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{{Previously}} “No. You’re hungry,” he mimicked. When she still gave him a questioning look he continued, “Lust.”
“Excuse me?” {hermione}
“That’s what it’s called when you are hungry. Hungry for blood.











CHAPTER 4: A SKIRT SOME BOOTS AND ONE TREMENDOUS "LUST"




“For blood?” Hermione gulped.

“I just said that,” he answered testily.

“Are you sure?” she asked nervously at the thought of drinking someone’s blood.

“Yes.”

“Um,” she now had an image in her head of a boy’s body laying face down in the

forest, with blood oozing from its neck, but the more she thought about it the more the

image started to please her.

An evil smile recoiled from her lips. “Blood.”

Draco mimicked her with an equally evil smirk.

“Let’s go,” she whispered, standing up from that ever so familiar leather couch.

“You're going to wear that?” he asked, looking down at her small pajama shorts and tank top.

“Oh, hold on,”

“No need, I’ll do it,”

She stared at him suspiciously, then thought of blood, and how much quicker it would be if he just dressed her.

“Okay fine,” she finally said. “But not too far out there,” she warned pointedly.

“Not too,” he answered whipping out his wand, his face still harboring an evil grin.

He pondered for a second, then finally muttered something inaudible.

She felt her shirt grow tighter around her torso, as it grew longer down her arms, all the while feeling her shorts turn into a skirt and grow tighter and thicker, but not the least bit longer. She felt a slight weight on her ears and neck as jewelry appeared, while the weight of her hair lifted, being pulled up into a bun with a thick ribbon. She then felt a tight gripping feeling on her lower legs as she felt herself grow taller as high heel boots magiced themselves onto her feet. She stared at Malfoy angrily, who was still waving his wand about her body, adding a few more things.

“Not quite,” he muttered more to himself than to her.

She felt a little bit of weight on her waist, where a thick black belt had just appeared.

“Not quite,” he repeated once again, then pointed his wand at her left hand.

She stared at him for a second, then felt one last piece of jewelry appear on her left ring finger. Glimpsing down at her outfit, the first thing she noticed was the spectacular ring on her left hand.

Fingering it she was in awe, looking at the ornately decorated silver band that was inlayed with a single black onyx gem, surrounded by tiny white diamonds.
“Wow, Draco,” she whispered in awe, “It’s beautiful,” she finished holding it up to the light, watching it glimmer in the morning sun.

“Traditional Malfoy ring, as well as the earrings and the necklace,” he stated smugly.

“Well they are all beautiful,” she stated, now noticing the onyx necklace that lay on her neck.

“And the rest?” he questioned, reminding her of the rest of his creation.

She looked down at the rest of her body and noticed that he was a definite fan of black. Her tight black top and skirt were both made of what she thought was snakeskin and shined in the natural light. ‘Whore-ish’ was the first thing that popped into her head as she continued looking down at her body and came across high heeled boots made with the same black leather.

“Let me guess,” she began, “ you like black snake skin.”

“You’re very observant,” he muttered, smirking, as he took a step closer to her, examining his own work. “I think I did pretty well, if I do say so myself,” he grabbed her hand and spun her around lightly, taking in each and every one of her precious curves. “You look hot.”

“You’re very observant,” Hermione mimicked his words.

“Well I am a Malfoy,” he continued as he snaked his hand around her now snakeskin covered waist  and started to lead her toward the door.

“Um, Draco.”

“Yes.”

“It’s about 20 degrees outside,” she pointed toward the window.

“Oh yes,” he said remembering that it was mid-December. He pulled his wand out once again, whispering yet another spell and a long black suede coat appeared around her, trimmed with thick black fur at the neckline and cuffs. ‘He’s got good taste in fashion. Hmm?’ she pondered. ‘No.’

“Okay, lets go,” he finally said.

“Question,” she stated, once again stopping him in his tracks.

“Yes?” he asked trying not to sound too impatient.

“How am I supposed to go out and hunt in this?”

“Don’t worry, luv, I’ll do everything for you, all you have to do is drink,” he winked, and led her to the portrait door.

‘Again with the pet names.’ She rolled her eyes inconspicuously. ‘Sounds kinda nice actually.’ She began to smile.

“What are you smiling about?” came Draco’s voice from beside her.

“Oh nothing,” she answered trying to conceal her smile.

“If you say so,” he smiled at her.

‘He’s got a hot smile,’ she thought to herself as she caught sight of his pearly whites. ‘Draco Malfoy hot? Did I just think that? Hmm. I guess I did. Well he is.’ She smiled again at the thought of admitting that Draco was hot.

As they continued to stroll through the cold corridors, Hermione started to receive a few awkward stares from passer biers, followed by a series of low whispers. Most were of a look of mild interest, particularly from the male population, but some even of outrage that she would go out dressed like that (mainly from the girls). Shifting herself uncomfortably in Draco’s arms, she let him know that she felt a bit awkward with all the people staring and whispering.

“We’re almost there,” he whispered soothingly in her ear, as they reached the Great Hall where they would exit the castle. He squeezed her side affectionately.

“Okay,” she acknowledged, she walked gracefully next to him to the end of the hallway, not faltering in her step once. ‘I’m getting pretty good at this high heeled thing,’ she congratulated herself for making it this far.

Just as Draco put his hand on the great oak doors, a voice from behind rang through the hall. “Well isn’t it the Slytherin king and his little whore of the week,” sounded the cruel voice.

Hermione stopped dead. She knew that voice. It had always been a comforting voice, up until just a few days ago, but never had it called her someone’s ‘whore for the week.’

“Excuse me,” she spat, spinning around on her heels so she could get a good look at her accuser.

“You heard me,” came the harsh tone of her ex-best friend, Harry Potter.

“Don’t talk to her like that, you good for nothing son of a bitch,” Draco’s valiant voice bellowed from beside her.

“Why? It’s not like you treat her any better,” he retorted.

“And you would now this how?” Hermione joined in coldly.

He ignored her.

“I believe she asked you a question,” Draco said, while he snaked his arm around her waist.

“I don’t respond to sluts,” Potter answered.

Hermione’s eyes grew wide in anger. She broke free from Draco’s grip, marched straight up to Potter and slapped him good across the face.

He grabbed his cheek in pain.

“Bitch,” he spat.

“I have a name,” she whispered venomously.

“But I don’t care.”

SMACK!

She slapped him across the other cheek. Potter let go of his right cheek, as a new pain appeared on his other.

“What was that for?”

“For being a lying, sexist, egotistical, bigot,” she answered.

He looked up into her eyes as she said that, recognizing her motto for what guys were after she broke up with them.
“ ’Mione?” Potter asked.

“It’s Miss Granger to you, Mr. Potter,” she finished, turned on her heels and walked back to Draco.

“Let’s go,” she stated, grabbing his hand and leading him out the door, but stopped right on the threshold, grabbed the back of Draco’s head and kissed him passionately.

When Hermione felt like she had made a deep enough impression she pulled away, looked at Potter’s dumbstruck face, and gave him the most evil grin she could muster. She whispered seductively in Draco’s ear, “Good bye ‘Mione. Hello Hermione, vampiress of Hogwarts,” and then led him out onto the cold Hogwarts grounds.











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