#dom!draco

The stone corridors of Hogwarts were colder than usual that morning, and my hurried footsteps vibrated through the hallways as I clutched my books to my chest. The hands of the   grand clock in the tower were unforgiving; no matter how hard I tried, time simply didn’t bend to the will of a frazzled student.

I was late.

Again.

The door to Professor Snape’s Potions classroom appeard ahead, its heavy oak surface etched with shifting runes that seemed to mock my tardiness. I hesitated for a heartbeat, my hand hovering over the iron handle. There was no way he hadn’t noticed my absence. Professor Snape was known for his strict demeanor and his nearly magical sense of punctuality—or rather, his ability to detect a lack thereof.

Bracing myself, I pushed the door open.

“Ah, Miss Y/n,” his voice greeted me before I even stepped inside. It was cold, precise, and carried the weight of both disappointment and expectation. The professor stood at the head of the class, his long, dark robes flowing like shadowy currents around his feet. His silver-rimmed spectacles glinted ominously in the light of the floating lanterns above.

“I see the concept of time continues to elude you.”

“Professor, I—” I began, but he raised a pale hand to silence me. The twenty-something pairs of eyes from my fellow students—half curious, half pitying—burned holes into my back as I stood there, wishing I could melt into the stone floor.

“Spare me the excuses. You’ve disrupted my lesson.” He gestured sharply towards the rest of the room, where the students were grouped into pairs. Each pair had a cauldron before them, bubbling with the early stages of a potion I didn’t recognize. “Since you seem so keen on making your own rules, let’s see how well you fare when paired with someone you’re… less familiar with.” My stomach sank. 

No. No, no, no. Please, no.

“Draco Malfoy,” he called, his voice like the toll of a bell. “You will work with Miss Y/n for today’s assignment.”

My eyes widened in horror as a murmur of amusement spread around the room. The Slytherins, Draco included, seemed especially amused.

Slytherin. It was not my house.

I didn’t want to be stuck with that spoiled brat.

But before I could protest, I was being marched across the classroom and deposited at a table in the back, where the notorious Draco Malfoy was lounging in his chair. His hair was silver, his face chiseled in the manner of an angelic creature, and his gaze was icy, grey-blue. When his eyes met mine, his lips curled into a mocking smile. I took my seat beside him, ignoring the smirks and whispers around us.

“Now,” Professor Snape continued, his focus shifting back to the class at large, “you have exactly one hour to complete the Draught of Shadows. And remember—this potion is highly volatile. Mistakes will not go unnoticed.”

Perfect. Just perfect.

Draco Malfoy—my crush since forever—was sitting next to me. I’d fantasized about being this close to him more times than I cared to admit. But not like this.

“Here,” he said, shoving the parchment toward me. His tone was smooth but held a sharp edge. “You’ll do the measuring. And the stirring. Basically, all of it.”

“Uh—what?” I stammered, blinking at him. I’d barely sat down, and already he was bossing me around?

“You heard me,” he said, leaning back in his chair with infuriating nonchalance. He stretched out his long legs under the desk, taking up more space than necessary. “You don’t want to mess this up, do you?” His smirk was equal parts cruel and devastatingly charming.

“Fine,” I muttered, pouring the first ingredient into the cauldron with shaky hands. “But you could at least help.”

“I am helping,” Draco said, his voice taking on a teasing lilt. “I’m supervising. For your sake, and the sake of the people around us, you’ll do as I say.”

I shot him a glare, but he just raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my flustered state. My stomach churned with frustration, but I said nothing and continued with the potion. I told myself this was fine—better than fine, really. This was the most interaction I’d ever had with him. Even if he was being infuriating, he was still talking to me.

By the time I added the powdered obsidian, though, my patience was wearing thin. “Stir faster,” he said, his voice dropping into an almost amused drawl. “No, not like that. Clockwise. Honestly, Y/n, are you trying to ruin this?”

“Or you could stir Mr. Know-It-All” I snapped before I could stop myself. My face flushed immediately.

"What was this?" he said. But I couldn't answer him. Or else I would have told him to fuck off. 

"Y/n," he said softly, but his voice was tight with anger. "I'll ask you one more time—How did you just call me?" 

His hand was resting on the edge of the table, the tips of his fingers curling and uncurling as if he wanted to hit me. 

"I'm sorry!" I burst out. "I didn't mean that. I was frustrated, and it slipped out." I was blushing even more now, my fingers trembling on the wooden spoon.

There was a moment of silence. The bubbling of the cauldron was almost deafening, the silence in the room heavy. Professor Snape's sharp eye was on us, and I wondered if he'd overheard.

"You better," Draco muttered, his voice soft and rough at the same time. My eyes flickered to meet his, and I felt a thrill of fear mixed with excitement. I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, but he stopped me immediately.

"Shut it. Don't make things worse." My mouth shut with a snap. 

The rest of the class passed in a blur of shame, frustration, and occasional, sharp corrections from Draco. He didn’t say a word about what had happened, but it hung in the air like a cloud of tension. I stirred the potion until it turned to a deep silver, then carefully poured it into glass vials as Professor Snape had instructed. I glanced at the clock, relief washing over me; it was almost time to go.

“Excellent,” Professor Snape said as he approached our table. His eyes scanned the finished product on the table before him, lingering over each of the five vials of Draught of Shadows. “Well done, both of you.” 

Yes of course. Now that Ass gets my praise, even though he has done NOTHING but order me around. And be mean. But at least the class is over. As the Professor walked away, I started to pack up my things.

“Don’t.” Draco's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around my wrist in a cold, unforgiving grip.

I stared up at him, a shiver of fear running down my spine. “What?”

“Don't pack. We're not done here.” His voice was dark, his gaze intense. Then his attention shifted to the rest of the classroom, where his friends were gathering their things. “Excuse me for a moment,” he told them, before his fingers tightened around my arm, and he yanked me out of the classroom.

My feet struggled to keep up with his, stumbling slightly as he dragged me through the corridor. I couldn’t believe it. Where were we going?

The answer came when he pushed me into a room I recognized immediately—the Slytherin common room. The door of his room slammed shut behind us, the heavy wood reverberating through my bones as Draco released my arm. My heart was pounding.

“You were a very disobedient little girl in class today,” he drawled, his back to me as he leaned against the closed door. His voice was low and rough. “Do you know what happens to little girls who can’t behave themselves?”

“No—” I whispered, my stomach sunk. “I—”

But before I could finish, Draco was striding toward me, his movements fluid and predatory. I gasped as he pressed my body harder on the door, his hand grabbing my chin.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his tone almost hypnotic. I felt my gaze drawn to his, my body responding despite itself. The heat of him against my front was almost overwhelming. My vision blurred for a moment, his face swimming in my mind like a half-remembered dream.

But the haze was shattered by his next words: “Now, you’re going to learn your lesson.”

His fingers dug into my jaw as he forced me to stare into those piercing grey eyes. His grip was unyielding, and I could feel my breath coming in shallow gasps as his hand slid down my chin to my throat, choking me. I felt a rush of fear, but it was underscored with excitement. My blood hummed in my veins like a warm river, my cheeks burning under his gaze.

“Tell me you’re sorry,” he demanded, his voice dark. “Tell me you’ll be a good girl from now on.”

“Sorry,” I whispered. My tongue felt heavy in my mouth, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his. My voice was barely audible. “I’ll be good,” 

"What else?" he asked demanding.

“I won’t be disobedient.”

The words tumbled from my mouth like a confession. 

“Mmm,” he murmured, his gaze tracing over me. “I want to see you apologize.”

"Undress yourself and get on you knees." he ordered softly.

My cheeks flushed, and I hesitated, my mind in a daze.

He raised an eyebrow. “Now.”

My fingers trembled as I fumbled with the buttons of my shirt, my vision blurring around the edges. I peeled off my shirt, tossing it aside, and slid off my skirt. The cool air of the room danced over my skin, and I shivered.

“Panties,” he prompted, his voice low and dangerous. My pulse raced as I hooked my fingers into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down. There was something about the way he looked at me—something that made me want to obey him. 

I knelt on the scratchy carpet, my heart pounding. How the hell did I end up here.

But the thought was short-lived as Draco’s hands settled on my shoulders, his cold fingers digging into my skin. I watched as he reached for his belt, sliding it free with a metallic jingle. The leather creaked as he wrapped it around my neck, pulling it tight with his left hand. My breath caught in my throat.

“I am going to teach you your place.” His gaze was burning, his eyes pinning me “You’re a good little slut,” he whispered, his voice making me shiver. “Aren’t you? Tell me.”

"Yes Sir"

“That’s more like it.” His right hand wrapped around the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Now,” he purred. “What do you say to me?”

“Thank you, sir.” I felt something inside of me shudder, some last vestige of resistance falling away under his touch.

“Good girl."  His hand tightened in my hair as his other hand started stroking my cheek. The belt around my throat relaxed. His thumb caressed my bottom lip as he murmured, "Now open up." The roughness of his voice made my heart jump. The command made my head swim.

“Open,” he repeated, his voice sharp this time.

I slowly parted my lips. Then, without warning, he shoved two fingers into my mouth.

"Suck them," he growled. I moaned in response, the sound muffled by his fingers. His left hand tightened painfully in my hair as he pulled my head back. My eyes watered. "Suck them." he repeated, shoving his fingers deeper.

I obeyed, sucking and licking his fingers eagerly. He watched me with a satisfied smirk. It only made me hotter, making me suck his fingers harder.

He pulled his fingers from my mouth and unzipped his trousers.  My mouth fell open as he pulled out his cock, hard and thick. The sight alone made my pussy clench in anticipation.

He grabbed my hair, forcing my head back as he positioned his cock at my mouth. He gave me no warning, shoving his cock down my throat with one smooth motion. I gagged on his cock as he started pumping in and out. My throat ached as he fucked my face, tears streaming down my cheeks. I struggled to breathe around his cock, since the belt tightened around my throat, was restricting my breath as well.

He pulled out, letting me catch my breath before shoving back inside me. He held me there, his cock buried deep in my throat. I gasped for air as he fucked my face.  His grip on my hair was unyielding as he used me for his pleasure. The belt tightened as he thrust into me again. My lips were stretched tight around his cock, saliva dripping down my chin. He was ruthless in his use, uncaring of my pleasure. All I was, was a hole to fill with his cum.

He started panting, his thrusts speeding up. "Good girl," he groaned as he fucked my mouth. "Such a good little slut." My pussy ached to be fucked, but I knew I had to wait. My mouth was for him. "Take it all," he growled.

His fingers tightened in my hair as he rammed deep into me. I felt his cock pulsing in my throat as he filled my mouth with his cum. The salty taste of his cum was my only reward as he filled my mouth. I swallowed his cum down greedily, lapping at his cock with my tongue. His moans of pleasure sent shivers through my body as he used my mouth to clean off his cock. His softening cock slipped out of my mouth, his cum still dripping down my chin.

"Such a good little whore." he purred, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "If you do something stupid again, remember that I know how to punish you. And next time, it will be much worse."

© SlitherInky 2024 Do not copy, repost or translate.

English Love Affair (ao3) - Anonymous Astoria/Draco/Ginny E, 3k

Summary: Balancing a wife and girlfriend was already a challenge for Draco Malfoy; it didn't help that they were both brats who loved to play.

Give It To Me (ao3) - nikki_t_11 Hermione/Draco/Theodore E, 11k

Summary: Hermione Granger is no stranger to kink. She learned as a teenager that she had a certain proclivity toward watching others get off, and her tastes only grew from there.

A special night at her preferred sex club takes an unexpected (wonderful) turn when she's approached by her ex-bully-turned-friendly-coworker, Draco Malfoy. As well as her long time friend and occasional fuck-buddy, Theodore Nott. Theo has a big mouth, though, and Hermione ends up having the night of her dreams with the men of her fantasies.

Good (ao3) - LovesBitca8 Hermione/Draco E, 46k

Summary: He stood, buttoned his robes, and came around her desk to lean against the front. “Blaise told me you’re looking for something specific.”

She blinked at him, wondering if she could reach for the emergency Portkey she kept in her shelves and disappear to St. Mungo’s before he could stop her. Her mouth opened, voice beginning to squeak a response.

“And I just wanted to drop by,” he cut her off and tilted his head, “and say that I’m flattered. But I won’t be taking you on.”

“That’s—that’s not—what?”

“I don’t think we’d be a good fit,” he said simply, like he was interviewing her for a secretary position.

Greenhouse Number Five (ao3) - Lost_In_Google_Translation Hermione/Draco N/R, 16k

Summary: There are many parties thrown at Hogwarts. But it is good. After all, Hermione has a drug problem and Draco is addicted to firewhiskey. Everyone has to deal with post-war trauma somehow. But every Muggle knows, it's better not to mix drugs and alcohol. It's a pity they forgot to tell the wizards.

La Petite Mort (ao3) - Orchid_Haven Hermione/Draco E, 76k

Summary: What the French commonly refer to as an orgasm, though directly translated, means "the little death."

An extensive collection of one shots starring Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, involving eye-rolling tropes, tooth-rotting fluff, a smidgeon of angst, and lots, and lots, and LOTS of face-fanning, collar-pulling smut.

Come along and enjoy the ride!

late night devil (put your hands on me) (ao3) - Anonymous Draco/Ginny E, 4k

Summary: She’s insatiable and he was going to give her everything she asked for.

Marked (ao3) - Tolazytopickaname Hermione/Draco E, 58k

Summary: It felt wrong to be there - like she was trespassing on private property. Like she was standing in Diagon Alley long before the shops opened. No - perhaps not Diagon Alley. Perhaps Knockturn Alley was a better fit. Knockturn Alley in broad daylight. The cats waiting, hidden, for darkness to fall and the mice to scurry out of sight. Hermione felt very much like a mouse.

Hermione saw a shimmer and the doorhandle appeared. 8PM. The cats were waking up. Hermione strode forward and opened the door.

Hermione finds herself drawn into the world of kink and healing at Marked, a discreet club where boundaries are tested, trust is built, and scars, both visible and hidden, are reclaimed.

On the Nature of Daylight (ao3) - ikorous Hermione/Draco E, 235k

Summary: Hermione Granger wanted to lose control. And Draco Malfoy wanted to take it.

push, pull (ao3) - meimori, plumforests Draco/Harry E, 2k

Summary: Draco likes having the control, and Harry likes having Draco.

ride the wave, like a message in a bottle (ao3) - IndigoHaze Draco/Ginny E, 1k

Summary: After a dreadful quidditch loss, Ginny retreats to a hot shower to calm down that is until an unexpected visitor arrives.

Snow Storm (ao3) - Brave_lil_Lioness, kblynne Hermione/Draco, Harry/Ginny E, 193k

Summary: Everyone copes with stress and trauma in different ways, and Hermione Granger is no exception. When after Harry's victory Hermione is unable to locate her parents in Australia, the young witch acts out in unexpected ways. When returning to Hogwarts, Head Boy Draco Malfoy is shocked to find a playful, sexually charged Head Girl waiting for him.

What starts out as a drug fueled lusty affair turns into much more for the Head Boy and Girl. Whether its comfort, distraction, or simply an outlet for years of pent-up stress, they learn there is one thing more addictive than the substance they love to share, and that's one another.

Teach me, Draco (ao3) - Ramelle_Kammae Hermione/Draco E, 85k

Summary: Hermione Granger didn't orgasm in four months. Draco Malfoy is determined to save her.

The Curse (ao3) - Samayel Draco/Harry E, 17k

Summary: Draco Malfoy enlists the unlikely aid of Hermione Granger in a bid to save Harry, who had been missing after the war for several years, from himself.

The Legacy of Ashes (ao3) - LunaGreyson Hermione/Draco E, 187k

Summary: Hermione grapples with her father's legacy of pure-blood supremacy, her internal battle complicated by a forbidden love with Draco Malfoy. Faced with impossible choices, she must sacrifice everything, including her chance at happiness.

The Vault of Heaven (ao3) - dodgerkedavra Draco/Harry E, 23k

Summary: Harry and Draco, curse-breaker partners, get trapped in a Gringotts vault with a cursed orb. One of them's got to get fucked, or they both die. Harry volunteers as tribute.

'til the day's done (ao3) - Anonymous Draco/Ginny/Blaise E, 4k

Summary: Blaise has had a long day, but when you're dating Ginny Weasley, the day doesn't end until she says so.

Or the one where Ginny milks Blaise (and Draco) dry...

Under Control (ao3) - Aneiria Hermione/Draco/Theodore E, 29k

Summary: When Hermione Granger started dating Theo Nott, she knew eventually she’d have to make peace with his best friend (and ex-boyfriend) Draco Malfoy.

How hard could it be? Just be polite, ask nice questions, and don’t punch him in the face.

The first time Hermione had noticed Mattheo looking at Draco differently than it had been for years, was at a garden party at Mattheo's house.

Hermione and Draco were standing under one of the large white parasols which were set up in the garden. She was just sipping from Draco's wineglass, when she looked over his shoulder and caught Mattheo red-handed.

Mattheo was standing directly across from them, leaning against the wall of his house, smoking. His eyes gave way to his thoughts. If Draco had turned around that very moment and looked him in the eyes - only Merlin knew, what he would have found there.

But Hermione saw his gaze and while she couldn't read his mind like Draco could, she saw the lust that flashed in his very eyes as Draco turned and placed his glass on the table next to them. Mattheo eyed Draco so tensely that he didn't even realized that Pansy had come up to him and had started talking.

When Pansy tapped him on the shoulder for not responding, Mattheo looked away from Draco and accidentally looked straight into Hermione's eyes. He immediately realized she knew it.

She stared back and couldn't help but smile, knowing that Draco had always thought Mattheo was attractive - But neither of the boys wanted to admit that there were other things than just 'normal' monogamous relationships with one man and one woman.

Draco was talking about his work and some paperwork he was supposed to have done in four days, when Hermione saw Mattheo walking over to them. His steps were slow and his eyes almost pierced Draco's back. Hermione tried with all her strength to keep her thoughts to herself, wanting to see how the evening would turn out.

Mattheo greeted Draco by placing his hand on his shoulder and patting it gently. He was laughing and making a joke about Thestrals. To anyone else it would have seemed innocent but Hermione saw him bite his lip and his hand trailing down Draco's chest as he lifted it from his shoulder.

Her eyes wandered to her glass which she had now picked up from the table and she studied the red texture of the wine, shimmering in the dusk light. She listened to Draco and Mattheo innocently but an idea had already formed in her mind.

She wanted them both. She wanted to feel them, to fuck them, to own them. She wanted to hear Draco's name out of Mattheo's mouth and she wanted to see Draco indulge in a fantasy, he'd never had the opportunity to live until now.

She just didn't know how she could make it happen.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was already evening when Mattheo said goodbye to the last guests - the last ones except for Hermione and Draco.

Mattheo was just closing the front door with a slight movement of his hand when he noticed Hermione shamelessly lasciviously taking a seat on his large, black leather couch. Draco couldn't take his eyes off off of her, as she sat there in her dark green dress that was pulled up to her thighs. She had crossed her legs slightly with the one foot on the floor on tiptoes.

She looked as innocent as she definitely wasn‘t.

Her other foot tapped to the beat of the soft music coming from the radio that was placed on the antique wooden table next to the door to Mattheo's bedroom. Her eyes were half-closed and her mouth slightly open and a soft sigh made it out of her mouth at that moment.

Draco stared at Hermione and didn't notice Mattheo stepping up behind him. Mattheo stopped a few inches behind Draco and inhaled his scent, his eyes never leaving Hermione. Then, as if nothing had happened, he walked around Draco and lightly elbowed him in the side.

“That was a good party, wasn't it?,“ he laughed mockly, more to get Draco's attention than for any other reason. Hermione opened her eyes and looked over at the two men - almost in surprise. They weren't standing far from her.

“Mattheo..,“ she said in a softly tone and in a voice that made both men immediately look back at her, “..you could visit us tomorrow. Draco has discovered that he seems to enjoy fumbling half-naked on his new motorcycle.“

After all, her expression was innocent, as were her movements, but Draco saw exactly where she was getting at.

He looked into his wife's beautiful eyes and by Merlin, he wished he could have taken her right here and now - right there on the couch. On Mattheo‘s couch. With Mattheo watching them.

Hermione gave him that kind of look which made her irresistible to him and he could feel how much it aroused him. It took him a lot of strengh not to run over to his wife and fuck her right on the spot.

“I don't know.. what are you thinking about it, Draco? The two of us, half-naked and tuning up a motorcycle?“ An innocent smile played around Mattheo's lips. It was in complete contrast to what his eyes were showing.

‚Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.‘

Draco could hear Mattheo's thoughts in his mind. It was the first time he had let him inside his head in ages.

‚Take me. Please.‘

Draco gulped. He tried not to show anything to Hermione. He was still standing there with his body turned towards Hermione and Mattheo beside him. Their shoulders were nearly touching. Draco would have loved to turn around to Mattheo.

‚You can have me. I'm your’s.‘

Mattheo's thoughts in Draco's head grew louder and louder. He couldn't concentrate on anything other anymore.

Hermione watched the scene intently. She could tell from the way Draco clenched his fingers in a fist and then stretched it out that he was bound by Mattheo. She knew that not much was missing for him to give in to him, but she also knew that this wouldn't happen this evening. She would have to talk to Draco first, because without her permission he would never get involved in anything else then only them two.

“See you tomorrow, Mattheo. Around 7pm?“

Hermione's voice literally cut through the air and tension between the two men. Mattheo cleared his throat. “Of course. See you tomorrow then.,“ he whispered. His voice was shaky. After a few seconds Mattheo turned around and escorted his last guests for the evening to the front door.

‚Tomorrow?‘

Draco heard Mattheo‘s question in his head, just as Mattheo slowly closed the door behind the two of them.

Hermione took his hand and as his fingers wrapped around hers, Hermione opened her mind to him. It wasn't a long walk home, so they walked. They spoke wordlessly, Hermione thinking and Draco reacting with his body language.

‚He wants you.,‘ Hermione thought. Draco squeezed her hand lightly as a sign he had heard her.

‚What's stopping you? I could see you struggling not to give in to him.‘ Draco sighed softly, almost silently. He shrugged his shoulders. He didn‘t know what to say.

‚I want to see it.‘ Hermione just thought it with no other words to not mislead the statement. ‚I want to feel you both.‘

Draco now stopped and turned to face Hermione. “Did I get that right?,“ he asked his wife. Hermione didn't even bat an eyelash when she said it out loud again.

“I want to feel you both. I want to see you fuck him.“

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

At 7 p.m. sharp there was a knock on the large glass front door that had separated the Malfoy's home from the rest of the world for several years already.

Hermione opened the door for Mattheo.

She had come up with an special idea for this warm summer evening. Draco had disappeared outside to the garden for over an hour ago already.

If Mattheo walked through the Manor and through the other glass door in the huge bay window which leads to the garden, he would spot Draco with nothing on but only wearing black sweatpants.

Hermione was wearing her long, red sundress which had a slit on one side, that started right at her waist and went down to the bottom. She was tired of looking innocent. Tonight, she wanted to be anything but that.

At least she hoped so.

“Good evening, Mattheo.,“ she whispered attractingly, as he stepped through the door into the Manor. He tried not to stare at her bare skin, but he noticed that she wasn't wearing any underwear. It was unmistakable - no matter where he placed his gaze on at her body. She looked amazing standing there, barefoot and with her long loose hair falling in curls over her big breasts.

“Hello, Hermione.“ Mattheo swallowed hard. In fact, he had never seen his friend's wife like this before. He couldn't help but wonder what lay underneath the thin layer of fabric which she used to hide her curves with from other people's eyes. Hermione smiled.

“Draco is outside in the garden. You surely want to see him first?,“ she asked him with an innocent expression on her face. Mattheo didn't take his eyes off her bare hips. „I wouldn't mind staying here a little longer..,“ he breathed.

„Would you like a drink?,“ Hermione asked him, leading the way towards the kitchen. „I've got a really good brandy in my cupboard..“

“Brandy sounds good.,“ Mattheo answered her, with more than desire for the drink in his voice. And Hermione.. she liked the feeling he gave her with it.

Slowly she opened the cupboard that hung over the kitchen counter. It was where Draco kept his most expensive brandy and whisky. “It‘s really good.. it‘ doesn‘t taste too tart.. and has a fruity note..,“ Hermione began to explain to Mattheo - But Mattheo was staring out of the window. Hermione followed his gaze.

He was staring at Draco.

Draco was kneeling next to his motorcycle, working on one of the wheels.

“I know what you want.,“ she said with a slight undertone in her voice that immediately drew Mattheo's attention back to her. “Your facial expression can't be mistaken. You‘re almost drooling, looking at him.“

She turned away without waiting for an answer and picked up one of the glasses on the wall cabinet to fill it with expensive brandy. Mattheo really didn't know what to say. He felt bad the night before after the two left. Mostly because he was afraid that his friends had felt completely different about the situation than he did. He may have misunderstood Hermione.

“Do you want me to leave?,“ Mattheo asked Hermione. But she just shook her head, causing her brown locks to fly slightly around her head. Then she laughed and handed the glass to him. “No, quite the opposite. I already told Draco..,“ she replied while reaching for another glass. “I can't wait.“

She didn't look at Mattheo as she was saying these words.

Mattheo‘s gaze lingered on her for a long time, before he did finally take a sip of his brandy and looked back at Draco in the garden. “What did he reply to that?,“ Mattheo demanded, his excitement evident in his voice and without taking his eyes off the man.

“He didn't need to say anything. Just seeing his breathing pick up speed when I told him I want to see you two fuck was enough.“

Hermione tapped on the kitchen window cautiously. The sound surprised her husband slightly, so that he looked over to the window, confused.

Noticing not only Hermione in the kitchen but also Mattheo, his expression changed immediately and he got up from the grass he had been kneeling on.

His muscles seemed to dance in the glare of the evening sun as he moved. Even Hermione wondered how she deserved him and his body. She called herself lucky every time she took Draco‘s clothes off or kissed him.

Her gaze rested on his hip. A moment later, as he stepped out in front of the bike, Hermione could see that he wasn’t thinking about the motorbike the whole time.

He definitely had indulged into more hotter thoughts.

Draco raised a hand in greeting and pointed to the right, where the door of the terrace was separating the garden from the house. He made his way there and with every step the bulge in his pants became more than obvious.

Hermione pulled Mattheo with her by the sleeve. “Come, go greet your host.,“ she laughed softly. Mattheo didn't need to be told twice. He was at the door before Hermione, right when Draco who had kicked off his shoes and was stepping into the living room. “Hello, Mattheo.,“ Draco greeted him and kissed Hermione passionately.

‚I want you to kiss me like that.‘

Mattheo pushed himself into Draco's head, causing him to flinch at his words. Draco's lips didn't break away from Hermione as he opened his eyes and stared at Mattheo, who had come up behind Hermione.

Draco looked at Mattheo's lips, and actually for a moment imagined what it would be like to kiss him. His grip on Hermione's waist tightened. How badly he wanted to kiss him too..

Mattheo was only a few inches away.

Hermione opened her eyes and caught the look her husband was giving his friend. She broke away from Draco. “Kiss him.,“ she breathed into Draco's ear, after slowly getting up on her tiptoes and bending towards him. Draco kissed her forehead slowly, not looking away from Mattheo.

A heartbeat later he bridged the space between them in only one step.

Mattheo's mouth was slightly open, his lips glossy, his breathing fast and shallow. His heart was beating like crazy. He had been waiting for this moment for years already. Even if he had never admitted it to himself: His desire for his friend grew more and more over time - until he could hardly bear it anymore. That‘s why he told Draco the evening before.

Draco looked Mattheo straight in the eyes as he ran his hand through his hair, pulling his head towards him. The room around them seemed to pulsate, so loud echoed their heartbeat in their ears.

Finally - after what felt like an eternity - their lips touched.

Hermione couldn't help, but admit that the sight of the two men drove her insane. They kissed with a passion Hermione had otherwise only experienced from Draco when he fucked her.

Hermione‘s hand, which she had used to brush her hair out of her face a second ago slowly wandered down her body. He didn’t take her eyes off her husband. She felt herself getting wetter and wetter the longer she watched them.

It was like being addicted. Hermione couldn't stop.

Draco's left hand had meanwhile travelled down Mattheo's back and was gripping his perfect ass. Mattheo moaned softly into Draco's mouth, which only made him harder..

Suddenly, Hermione stepped up to the two and put her hand on Draco's shoulder. Almost reluctantly he broke away from Mattheo and looked at her. A smile played around Hermione's lips. “I'm going upstairs.,“ she said softly. “Will you two be following?“

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hermione walked into her bedroom and immediately pulled the dress over her head, only to drop it on the floor. The wetness between her legs had become unbearable for her, and with a soft sigh, she sank down on her bed. She ran her fingers over her nipples which instantly stiffened and wondered when her husband would be coming upstairs with Mattheo.

Her thoughts kept turning to the scene of how passionate her husband had looked while kissing Mattheo. She could feel the heat only too well that this thought triggered in her midst. Lost in thought, she slipped her hand between her legs and moaned softly at her own touch.

The next moment the bedroom door opened.

Hermione turned her head slightly, still moaning, only to see her husband standing in the doorway, breathing heavily and dragging Mattheo behind him. He barely walked a few steps into the room when he pulled Mattheo to him and caught his eye.

“Get on your knees, love.,“ he breathed. Mattheo immediately did as Draco asked.

Draco slipped his pants off his hips and they fell to the floor without much effort. Out came his perfect cock, thick and veiny, and Hermione was almost a little jealous that she wasn't in Mattheo's place now. She was still lying on the bed, but now had her legs apart so that Draco could stare at her most intimate part. Her gaze met her husband's.

‚I'm almost losing control.‘

Draco parted his lips slightly in response to her question and licked his tongue across them. „Not now. I want you to cum on my cock, when I fuck you.“ His tone was assertive, just as Hermione was used to from him.

He turned back to his - now - lover. “Open your mouth, love.,“ Draco cooed with a lascivious grin to Mattheo, who was kneeling in front of him and looking up at him with a longingly expression on his face.

Draco grabbed his hair again when Mattheo finally opened his mouth and let Draco's full length slide down his throat. Draco groaned softly, as did Mattheo. His moans grew louder the more he ruthlessly fucked Mattheo's throat. They completely forgot everything around them for a minute..

“All you could think about since last night was 'fuck me, fuck me, fuck me' and how you moan my name.,“ Draco said to Mattheo and his voice grew darker as he became more aroused.

Hermione pulled her fingers out of her slit and slowly got up from the bed. With a few steps she was beside them and kissed Draco passionately.

“Oh fuck, Mattheo.,“ Draco moaned his name into her mouth. Hermione chuckled. “Look at him Princess, look how well he's taking me.“ He spoke with an effort and Hermione could see his longing for release in his eyes. “Do it.,“ she whispered in permission into Draco's ear.

Mattheo had his eyes half closed and was moaning with every thrust. “Fuck Mattheo, this feels so good.,“ Draco moaned again, his thighs shaking. “I want you to say my name.“ Mattheo groaned more and he said Draco's name, but the sound was muffled. Draco gripped his hair tighter. “Louder.,“ he commanded him.

“Draco!,“ Mattheo moaned again, as Draco pulled his cock out of his mouth for a second. 'You're my good boy.,“ Draco whispered, admiring the saliva dripping from Mattheo‘s chin and picking up where he left off. Hermione kissed him again and slid her hand up to his butt, to press him even tighter into Mattheo's mouth.

“I'm so close, wait until you can taste me, wait.. soon..,“ Draco tilted his head back, “I'll fill your throat and make you swallow all my pureblood cum.“ Draco moaned with lust as he took a few final thrusts down Mattheo's throat, filling his mouth completely. And the good boy Mattheo was, he swallowed it all.

Hermione thought, she would tear apart in lust.

Draco opened his eyes and looked at Hermione. “Fuck me.,“ she whispered and pulled her husband to the bed with her. “Kneel down on the bed, princess. It's your turn now.,“ Draco said, pushing her forwards slightly. Hermione knelt down on the bed facing him. “Open up, wife.,“ he commanded, putting his cock to her lips. Hermione grinned and willingly opened her mouth.

Mattheo came into sight from behind Draco.

“My good girl.,“ Draco moaned softly as she started sucking him, “Suck me, make me hard again.“

Mattheo wrapped one hand around Draco's waist, to tease his nipples and used his other hand to slide Draco's cock even deeper into Hermione's mouth. He bowed his head and placed small kisses on Draco's throat and neck.

Draco moaned more and more loudly. “You both are so fucking addicting, oh fuck..“ He was momentarily overwhelmed with all the impressions, Hermione blowing him so well and Mattheo rubbing his hard cock against his back.

“Does this feel good, Princess? Moaning all over my hard Deatheater's cock, and taking it like the good little slut you are?“

Hermione felt dizzy with pleasure. She wanted to feel him. Deep in her, where he belonged. She forced words to the front of her mind, just for him to hear it.

‚Fuck my cunt now, finally..‘

Draco pulled his cock out of her mouth. 'Lie down.', he said to Mattheo, in a tone, that left no room for contradiction. Mattheo slowly lowered himself onto the bed, not taking his eyes off Draco. “Blow his cock.,“ Draco demanded of Hermione. She hesitated for a moment, but then lowered her lips over Mattheo's hard cock with a big grin. “Oh Merlin.,“ Mattheo groaned as Hermione started sucking him into her mouth, “Your wife is a goddess.“

Draco let out a soft laugh. “I'll fuck you, until you can't walk no more, Hermione, until everything you can say is my name.“ Hermione swallowed, Mattheo's cock still inside her mouth.

“Hermione,“ Mattheo groaned, “Hermione, this is so good, please don't stop.“

Draco climbed onto the bed behind her and placed his cock right in front of her entrance. “Today you are our fucktoy, Princess.,“ he said before shoving himself deep into her tight pussy. She tensed, about to come. “Draco,“ Hermione moaned, “Draco!“

“Yes, do it again, I want to feel you squeeze my cock with your tight pussy.“

Draco fucked her with hard thrusts, banging his cock against the walls of her pussy, but he didn't stop. He knew how much Hermione loved that feeling. “You're my fucktoy, my cock looks so perfect in your sweet cunt, I can't stop watching it.“

“Draco.,“ Mattheo suddenly whimpered, “I'm coming, I can't hold it any longer.“

As soon as he said those words, he came right into Hermione's mouth, who was moaning Draco's name so loudly, that Mattheo's cum ran out of the corners of her mouth back onto his dick.

“Oh fucking hell, I love how you scream my name, and he is looking so perfekt cumming for us, bloody Merlin, I'm going to pump all my pureblood seed into you too, Princess..“

Draco pulled her off Mattheo. “You want to be our little whore, don't you?,“ he breathed in Hermione's ear, „Come on my lap.,“ he said louder this time, his voice demanding and dark. She knew what this meant. Draco lay flat on the bed and pulled Hermione onto him. “Finally..,“ Hermione breathed as she lowered herself onto his cock. Draco leaned forward and kissed her greedily.

As she started riding him, her screams got louder and louder. He clawed his fingers into her ass and caressed her breasts which were bouncing up and down. “Faster, princess, come on, squeeze every drop of cum out of me with your tight pussy.,“ he whispered to her. Hermione was no longer paying attention to him. She rode herself to the climax, she finally wanted salvation, she couldn't wait any longer.

Draco glanced over at Mattheo, who was laying on the bed next to them, watching him jerking off his cock. He kept his eyes on him as he spoke to Hermione. “Tell me how much you love my cock, fucking you so hard, wife.“ “So much, Draco.“ Hermione could barely speak.

“Love, look at me, I want you to look at me, when you cum.,“ Draco demanded of Mattheo. Mattheo opened his mouth in a silent scream, spurred on by Draco's words and his eyes were still locked with Draco's when his load shot out of his cock, directly on the bed and over Draco's thighs, who smiled and let his thumb run over Mattheo's mouth. “Don't pause, Princess, keep going.,“ Draco demanded again, turning to Hermione.

“Are you coming, Princess?,“ he moaned in her ear, “Are you coming? Tell me how does it feel to know, that I'm gonna fuck you 'til you black out?“

Hermione sat up on his cock, his words making her feel unbelievably hot. “Not yet.,“ he commanded her. “Wait.“

She whispered his name over and over, almost like a prayer. “Draco..,“ she whined and kept urging, “please let me cum!“ Her screams grew louder, as he entered her without pausing and hit her in her sweetest spot. “Not yet, princess.,“ he moaned, trying to control himself.

She wanted him to lose control.

“I can't hold it anymore..,“ she almost yelled, as he squeezed her nipple lightly, making her see stars. He slid his hand to her neck, his thumb on one side of it and the other fingers on the opposite side, squeezing it tightly, leaving traces of his fingernails on her skin. She moaned, before losing control of her breathing, but tried anyway and realized how much it turned her on. She caught his gaze and when he finally looked at her, she opened her mouth in desire and he understood. “Now cum for me, Princess. Run all your delicious liquids down my dick.“

Hermione completely lost control. Her screams were so loud, that they rang in the two men's ears. „“Your cunt feels so amazing, I'm almost there Princess, keep going, I want to see your sweet ass bouncing up and down my cock.“

“I'm coming..,“ Hermione yelled. “Me too, Princess, come with me.,“ Draco replied, unable to breathe because all of his pleasure.

Mattheo slid over to them and started kissing her neck, biting and leaving marks of him on her skin too, and reached between her legs and began rubbing her most sensitive area.

And Hermione came. She came so hard, that she actually fell unconscious on top of Draco for a moment, after her high-pitched screams had penetrated the whole manor.

Draco kissed her forehead. When she regained consciousness after a few seconds, she saw him kissing Mattheo again.

“Next time I'll fuck you.,“ he said to Mattheo and moaned into his mouth.

When he finally neared the end of his meetings, he retreated home to his office, pouring whiskey into a crystal glass, relaxing as the familiar tinkling of the ice reached his ears. His feet rested on the desk as he drank, staring off at nothing, letting the weight of the day wash away in the silence.

He faintly wondered where you were. Draco was used to his sweet little girlfriend greeting him whenever he returned home, waiting at the door like a puppy. Your innocent excitement alone was often enough to make him forget the stress of the day, though now you were absent. 

He didn’t worry too much. 

Despite being in the mafia, Draco wasn’t hyper controlling of you like many of his peers were with their girls. He trusted you, you’d earned it. After so many years of loyalty and nearly absolute obedience, as well as self defense training, Draco had a long leash with you. It allowed him to worry about one less thing, letting you take some of the burden of anxiety.

As if you could hear Draco’s thoughts of you, the door cracked open, allowing you to step inside his large office, immediately closing it behind you.

Draco lost interest in the whiskey when you came into view, clad only in very, very expensive black lingerie. It had been designed to fit your body, showing off every curve and asset, swirling over your skin and making you look like a piece of artwork.

To Draco, you were perfect, both in spirit, and physically. Draco loved everything about you, the concept of flaws and insecurity unknown to him. You were the epitome of absolute perfection, his lover that hung the sun and the moon.

Draco gazed at you like a starved man, ravenous for your body. Though, when you stepped into his reach, his touch was incredibly gentle. That’s how he was, existing in a state of ferocity, though softened into tenderness by you. You balanced him, reminding him of his humanity, something that often got lost in the mafia.

“You look beautiful,” he spoke, silver eyes admiring every inch of you.

You knew what he needed. Business had been rough recently, calling for late nights and extra bullets. You didn’t need him to tell you, either. You knew your lover like the back of your hand, memorizing every tiny detail about Draco.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“Come here,” he whispered, bringing a hand to your face and gently pulling you into a kiss.

Your lips met his in a soft embrace, tasting the whiskey on his tongue. It was soothing in its familiarity. You never grew tired of Draco, only loving him more as time passed. 

He brought his feet off the desk to sit up, moving so he could ease you to straddle his lap in the brown leather chair. His hands smoothed up your thighs, going to squeeze the soft flesh. Your lips parted, deepening the kiss with Draco as he touched you, melting into him.

“Sorry,” you breathed with a small laugh, apologizing for the shudder and goosebumps that rose on your skin as he trailed his fingertips up your sides.

“It’s a little cold in here, yeah?” He smiled, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand.

“A little bit.”

You traced your fingertips over his cheekbone, touching the sharp features as he studied your body, following the intricate lace patterns with his eyes.

“Can I take you to bed? I want absolutely no distractions from my baby.”

“Please,” you agreed. Draco had made it a habit to gently ask your permission for you, never allowing you to feel pressured into things you didn’t desire. In his work, he was the boss, and he made every decision, but with you, you had all of the choices. 

He left his phone in the office, standing with you still wrapped around his upper body. Your head rested on his shoulder as he carried you to your shared bedroom— a solace for you both, filled with memories of intimacy.

Draco gently set you down, and your fingers instantly went to the buttons on his black shirt. He let you undress him, smiling as your delicate fingers brushed over his skin. He slipped a designer belt from the loops, watching as you stared at it in his hand.

“What’s that look?” He asked, kissing the tension in your forehead.

“Nothing, I was just thinking.”

“Thinking…?”

“I’m glad you’re not pulling the belt off to use it on me,” you answered, feeling suddenly shy.

He laughed, setting it aside and wrapping his arms around you. You giggled when he suggested he punish you for being so sweet, and you pushed him off gently. You stretched out on the bed, folding your arms under your head and gazing at him over your shoulder. 

You took the moment to stare at him, beautiful, tall, and all lean muscle. Draco was fair, with silver eyes and white hair, as if the moon itself were a person. He knelt behind you, kissing down your spine and squeezing your hips. 

Draco carefully manhandled you onto your back, so you were splayed out before him to be devoured. You reached for the clasp behind you, halting as he caught your wrists.

“No, I want to fuck you in this. You look so pretty, I’m not ready to undress you yet.”

You wrapped your hands around his forearm, nodding and accepting a quick kiss. He gently pried the lacey panties to the side, running his finger along your slit before teasing your clit. A breathless gasp escaped you as he prodded your entrance with the tip of his cock, pushing in slowly as he rubbed your clit, forcing your body to relax as he filled you. 

“How does that feel?”

You tried to answer, but a broken whimper came out instead, making Draco smile proudly. 

“My darling girl, can’t even speak when you’re full of me,” he teased gently, his hands exploring your body, groping and squeezing you as his hips hit deep, steady thrusts. 

You arched your back, pushing your breasts into his hands, squealing as he tugged on your nipples through the thin lace. Hickeys were left on the skin that peeked out between the fabric, marking you as his. 

His fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties, tugging down to see the initials, D. L. M. tattooed between your hips, a sign of your commitment to him. Draco leaned down to press his lips to the inked letters, the burning sensuality of it all making you tumble into bliss, coming so hard your vision blurred. 

He beamed down at you, lost in the sight of your own ecstasy, pouring into you as you squeezed around him, writhing and crying out his name in broken squeals. He slipped two fingers in your mouth, letting you suck on them gently as tears slid from your eyes, consoling your shaking form. Draco gently shushed you, pressing down on your tongue and letting himself soften inside of you. You lost track of how long you spent like that, barely registering when his body retreated from yours.

“Where’s your head at, pretty girl?” 

You just hummed in response, hardly able to open your eyes. Draco gently cleaned you up, slipping the lingerie off of you and exchanging it for silk, monogrammed pajamas.

“Don’t go,” you whimpered as he slid sweatpants on, heading toward the door. 

“My darling, I’ll be right back. Don’t fuss,” he spoke, kissing you.

You were nearly asleep when he returned, happy when he snuggled you in his arms. 

“You looked so beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, tracing over tattoos that adorned his chest.

“I might have to buy you some more pretty lingerie.”

“Really?!” you gasped excitedly, making him grin.

The air was crisp and smelled faintly of coal as I stood on the platform, gripping the handle of my suitcase like it was the only thing keeping me grounded. My heart was doing its best impression of a hummingbird, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the excitement bubbling under my skin or the sheer terror of what lay ahead.

Hogwarts. My new school. A place I’d only heard about in stories, where the brightest and most ambitious witches and wizards honed their craft. A fresh start, I’d told myself. "It’s what you need." But as I watched the bustling crowd—students greeting friends, families hugging, enchanted luggage flitting around like over-eager puppies—I couldn’t help but feel like I didn’t belong. I was completely, utterly alone. 

I shifted my weight, trying to look like I had a purpose. It’s not like I didn’t want this; I did. Leaving my old school had been my decision. But the farther away I got from everything I knew, the heavier the suitcase in my hand felt.

That’s when I saw him. 

At first, I thought the light was playing tricks on me, the way it glinted off his blond hair, almost too perfect. But no, he was real—and walking through the crowd like it parted just for him. He was tall, wearing the Slytherin uniform like it was made for him. Maybe it was. Everything about him looked polished, from the lines of his blazer to the relaxed way he moved, as if nothing could faze him.

And then he looked at me. 

Just for a second. His sharp grey eyes caught mine, and I felt like I’d been pinned to the spot. There was no reason for my cheeks to warm the way they did, but they did. His lips curved into the faintest smirk—like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on people—and then he turned away, just like that. 

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

The train’s whistle broke through my thoughts, a sharp reminder that I wasn’t here to gawk at strangers. Students were starting to board, and I realized I was still rooted to the same spot like some kind of nervous statue. I grabbed  my suitcase and forced myself to move forward. 

But, of course, he was there. Standing by the entrance to the train, his luggage already stowed, looking impossibly at ease. As I approached, he glanced at me again, one eyebrow quirking up. 

“You look a little lost,” he said, his voice smooth and annoyingly self-assured.

Lost? I bristled, heat rising in my cheeks again. “I’m not lost,” I said, a little too quickly. My voice came out firmer than I expected, though, which felt like a small victory. “Just… new.”

His smirk deepened, like I’d just confirmed something for him. “New, huh? The transfer student, I’m guessing.”

“Good guess,” I muttered, feeling a knot of annoyance rise in my chest. Who was this boy to call me out like that? 

“Welcome to the Hogwarts express,” he said, stepping aside with a mock bow. “You’re in for quite the ride.”

I wanted to say something clever, but my mind blanked. Instead, I just stepped past him, muttering a quick “thanks” as I boarded the train. Behind me, I could hear him chuckle softly, like he’d already decided I was amusing. 

Great. My first impression at Hogwarts, and I was already someone’s entertainment. 

This was going to be interesting, whether I liked it or not.

The train lurched forward with a hiss, and I felt a mix of excitement and dread churn in my stomach. My suitcase felt heavier with every step as I dragged it down the narrow aisle, peering into compartments in search of an empty seat. Most were already packed with students—laughing, chatting, and sharing snacks like they’d known each other forever.

Every door I slid open seemed to reveal the same thing: full benches and friendly chaos. I got a few curious glances, but mostly, people were too absorbed in their own groups to notice me.

Compartment after compartment. No luck.

By the time I reached the last car, my arms were aching, and I could feel my resolve slipping. Just one seat, I thought. That’s all I need.

I glanced into the final compartment and felt my stomach drop. It was packed, like all the others, and the students barely spared me a glance before resuming their loud game of Exploding Sparklers. I closed the door quickly before one of the cards could go off in my face.

I straightened up, biting back frustration. Maybe I could stand? It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. I turned to lean against the wall, only to feel a hand clap down on my shoulder.

“Miss,” a sharp voice said. I turned to see a tall, intimidating looking teacher in a black robe. Her glasses perched precariously on her nose as she fixed me with a disapproving glare. “Standing in the aisle during travel is strictly against regulations.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, I—there weren’t any seats, and—”

She raised a hand to cut me off. “Find one. Immediately.”

I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

As she marched off, I turned to face the now hopelessly crowded train car. And that’s when I saw him. Sitting alone in a private compartment, his long legs stretched out like he didn’t have a care in the world. Blond hair catching the light. Smug, infuriating smirk.

Of course.

I hesitated, staring through the glass at his empty bench. He caught my eye and gestured dramatically at the open space across from him, as if to say, What’s taking you so long?

My pride bristled. There had to be another option. I spun on my heel, determined to check the rest of the train one more time, but then I felt the teacher’s sharp gaze on me from the other end of the aisle.

I was out of choices. With a groan, I turned back to his compartment. He was still watching me, his smirk somehow even more irritating up close. Taking a deep breath, I slid the door open.

“You win,” I muttered, dragging my suitcase inside. “But only because I don’t feel like getting detention before school even starts.”

His grin widened. “I’ll take it.” He gestured to the bench opposite him. “Make yourself at home.”

I dropped my suitcase unceremoniously by the door and sank into the seat, folding my arms across my chest. I could feel his eyes on me, and I refused to meet his gaze.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “What’s your name, transfer student?”

I turned to glare at him. “Y/n,” I said shortly.

“Y/n,” he repeated, rolling the name around like he was testing how it felt on his tongue. “I’m Draco.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is this where I’m supposed to be impressed?”

He laughed—a low, easy sound that somehow made me feel both annoyed and self-conscious. “You will be eventually.”

I groaned, leaning back in my seat and staring at the ceiling. This is going to be a long ride.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, me avoiding his gaze and him fiddling with some invisible lint on his blazer. I tried not to squirm under the weight of his attention, but it was impossible to ignore. 

Finally, he seemed to have had enough of my silent treatment. “So,” he said abruptly, “how does a student end up transferring to Hogwarts?”

I turned to look at him, my eyes narrowing. “That’s none of your business.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, “but I’m asking anyway.”

I snorted. “How does a Slytherin student get to be so nosy?”

He chuckled. “Slytherins are naturally curious.”

“Of course they are,” I murmured, rolling my eyes. “That’s why you’re all a bunch of—”

The word got caught in my throat as he leaned forward, his grey eyes piercing in the dim light. “A bunch of what?”

My heart stuttered, like a rabbit in a hunter’s sights. There were plenty of things I could have said that wouldn’t have ended in me getting insulted or worse, but I said them anyway. 

“Of what?” he pressed.

“Of snakes,” I spat out, the words tumbling forth like they had a mind of their own. I instantly regretted it, but he just laughed again. The sound felt like it could cut through the air, like it was sharper than I realized.

“Of course,” he repeated, shaking his head. “I should have known better than to expect a Ravenclaw to hold her tongue.”

“Ravenclaws are naturally clever,” I said quickly, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “Or is that what you were about to say?”

“Maybe,” he murmured, his eyes glinting. “And maybe we’re getting a little off track.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he held up a hand, stopping me. “Answer my question, y/n,” he commanded. 

The authority in his voice was enough to make my stomach clench. I bit my lip, looking away. “I didn’t fit in,” I said softly. “My old school wasn’t for me.” I didn’t look at him; I knew he was probably smirking.

“That’s not surprising,” he said. “I doubt many places would be suitable for someone like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped.

He leaned back in his seat again, a smile playing on his lips. “It’s nothing.” He glanced down at my suitcase. “I thought you said you weren’t lost.”

I flushed, the accusation stinging more than it should have. “I’m not.” I said fiercely.

“Sure you’re not,” he replied. “That’s why your eyes are all wide and scared like some lost little rabbit.”

I felt a surge of frustration. “I’m not scared,” I lied.

He raised his eyebrows. “Of what?” he challenged. “Me?”

“No,” I scoffed. “Why would I be scared of you?” 

He leaned forward again, his grey eyes narrowing. “Do you want me to show you why you should be afraid of me?” 

My heart started pounding in my chest. I opened my mouth to retort, but he cut me off before I could get the words out. 

“If you’re lying to me, y/n, that’s going to make things a lot worse for you.”

I glared at him, trying not to let my panic show. But the way his eyes bored into me told me that he could see everything I was trying to hide. I couldn’t look away; he had me pinned under his sharp gaze like a butterfly in a jar.

He leaned in a little closer. “Now,” he said in a low voice. “Are you scared of me, y/n? You can tell me. I won’t bite.”

The way he said my name made my stomach clench, and not from fear this time. I squirmed in my seat, trying to ignore the feeling that was building inside me. 

“N-no,” I stuttered.

He smiled, a lazy smirk that did absolutely nothing to help my situation. “Good,” he purred. “Then it shouldn’t be a problem to do what I ask you.”

I was about to retort, but then his fingers were brushing against my thigh, and everything else disappeared. I froze, staring at him in disbelief.

“Wh—what are you doing?” 

“Checking,” he said simply, as if that explained anything. His hand slid higher under my skirt, and I sucked in a breath, feeling my cheeks flush. 

I tried to push him away, but he was faster. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the armrest, his fingers closing around them like a vice. 

“Let go,” I demanded, trying to wriggle free. 

“Not yet,” he replied easily. 

My skirt was hiked up now, almost to my waist. I squirmed against him, fighting to free my hands. I had no idea what he was doing, but I knew it couldn’t be good. 

His eyes were glinting with amusement now, like he could read my fear in every twitch. His thumb pressed against my wrist, feeling the pulse there. 

“You’re not fooling anyone, you know,” he said calmly. “Your heart is going a mile a minute.” 

I gritted my teeth, trying to fight down the panic. But it was hard. He had me trapped; all I could do was stare up at him and try to figure out what he wanted. 

“You’re right,” I said finally, deciding on the safest tactic. “I am scared. Just let me go.”

He tilted his head to one side, a small smirk still playing on his lips. He looked like he was debating something, weighing the pros and cons. Then, in one swift movement, he released my wrists. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said abruptly. “Much, anyway.”

I sucked in a breath of relief, pushing my skirt back down. I didn’t ask him what he meant; I didn’t care as long as he stayed away from me. 

But then his fingers closed around my thigh again, sliding higher between my legs. I let out a small cry of surprise, pushing against him. 

“What are you doing?!” I demanded.

He smiled down at me, his sharp grey eyes glinting with something I couldn’t quite recognize. 

“Just a little test,” he murmured. “Spread your legs for me.”

I stared at him, my mouth falling open. 

He raised his eyebrows. 

“Now,” he ordered. 

I felt my face grow hot at his command, but I couldn’t deny the thrill that was building inside me. His voice was low, commanding, and even though I hated him, it still sent shivers down my spine. I wanted to obey him, like something deep inside me was telling me that I should follow his every word. 

That was a dangerous thought.

“No,” I said firmly, folding my legs against him. “Get your hand off me.”

He didn’t. Instead, he just laughed, like he thought my protest was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. 

“Oh, y/n,” he said in mock disappointment. “I expected more out of you.”

His fingers were pressing against my inner thigh now, trying to pry my legs open. I fought against him, but his grip was too strong. 

Suddenly, his hand was gone, and he was leaning back in his seat like nothing had happened. I stared at him in disbelief as he lifted one foot to rest on top of the other. 

“You really are stubborn,” he remarked.

I narrowed my eyes, anger rising in my chest. “Well, it’s not like I was going to let you get away with this.”

He laughed again, a low, dangerous sound. “I always get away with what I want,” he drawled. “And right now, I want to fuck you.” 

My heart skipped a beat. “What?”

He smirked down at me. “Did I surprise you?”

“No,” I lied, trying to keep my cool. But I could feel the flush in my cheeks spreading, and he seemed to notice. 

“Lying to me is very unbecoming of you, y/n.”

I glared up at him. “And threatening me is very becoming of you? You’re something else, you know that?”

He chuckled, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe me. “You have no idea how much trouble you’re in,” he said.

I felt a shiver run down my spine. “Maybe not,” I replied. “But I do know that you are in big trouble."  I glanced out the window, watching the rolling hills outside. "We’re getting closer to the school; I’m going to go find a teacher and get you expelled before we even get there.” 

“Do it,” he challenged, raising an eyebrow. “See what happens when you cross me.”

I stood up, ignoring him. But as I reached for my suitcase, his hand closed around my arm, pulling me back down.

“I don’t think so,” he murmured.

I fell back into my seat, glaring at him. “Let go!”

He leaned forward, and for a second, I thought he was actually going to kiss me. But then his lips brushed against my ear instead, sending shivers down my back.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he whispered. “Now, are you going to spread your legs like a good girl, or do I need to make you?”

I shivered at his words, feeling a surge of excitement. Why was I enjoying this? I didn’t understand it myself, but the way he was commanding me to do whatever he wanted had something in me responding. Something in me wanting to obey.

I glanced up at him, feeling a blush rise in my cheeks. “You can’t make me,” I muttered.

He just smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. Then, suddenly, his fingers were closing around my knee, digging into the soft flesh. I yelped in surprise.

“Ow!”

“I can, and I will."  He dug in his nails a little harder, and I sucked in a gasp of pain. "Now do what you’re told and spread your fucking legs for me, before I hurt you even more.”

I gritted my teeth as he dug into my skin, but I was no match for his grip. Slowly, fighting against every instinct that was telling me to refuse him, I let my legs fall open.

“Good girl,” he praised, releasing his hold on my knee. His fingers traced lightly up my inner thigh, feeling for my panties. Then he slid them aside, brushing against me.

I let out a small moan of shock at the sudden sensation, feeling my face flush. “Don’t,” I muttered weakly. 

“What was that?” he replied sharply. But before I could answer, I felt a sharp pain on my left cheek. He had hit me.

It only took me a second to register what happened, but by that time he was already smacking me again. I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes as pain blossomed on both cheeks.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Don’t what?”

I tried to fight back tears as I looked up at him. He had a smug, satisfied look on his face, like he enjoyed hitting me. “Don’t do this,” I whispered.

He smirked. “Too late for that,” he purred, his fingers pushing inside me. I gasped at the sensation, feeling myself clench around him. 

“That’s right,” he murmured, pumping his fingers in and out. “Feel good? Let’s make you feel even better.”

His thumb brushed against my clit, and I gasped, trying to squirm away. 

“No,” I breathed. “Stop!”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he snarled. “I’m in charge here, not you.” His fingers pressed into me harder, forcing me to take them deeper. I cried out, feeling the edge of an orgasm building inside me.

“P-please,” I gasped. “I need—”

“You need?” he mocked. “What do you need, y/n?”

“I need—” I swallowed hard. “I need to come.”

He laughed, a cruel sound. “Do you think you deserve to come? Tell me why you deserve it you little whore.”

I bit my lip. “I—I don’t know.”

“That’s right,” he purred, pressing against me harder. I moaned in frustration, so close to coming that it was agony. “You don’t deserve anything. You’re just a dirty, little slut who wants to be fucked. Isn’t that right?”

I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eye again as I looked up at him, and to my surprise, he met my eyes. His expression was hard and cold, but there was something in his gaze that almost looked like pity.

“Yes,” I breathed, fighting the lump that was forming in my throat. “I’m a dirty little slut who wants to get fucked.”

“Good,” he said. Then, as suddenly as he had started, he pulled his fingers out.

I cried out in frustration, trying to reach for him. But he reached up to grab something from the luggage rack—a sleek, well-worn bag I hadn’t noticed before. "Where are you going?" I asked still feeling the emptiness in my wet pussy

“Stretching my legs,” he said casually, slinging the bag over one shoulder.

“Oh,” I said, sitting up a little straighter. “Well, when are you coming back?”

He paused for just a second “Who said I was?”

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