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Masquerade

Hermione flattened her ivory dress taking great care to not damage the delicate black lace climbing up the bodice. The fairy made lace started at the hem of her dress and swirled lazily up to the bodice of her dress where it joined at her sweetheart neckline.

It was a bit risque for a pureblood princess and a Malfoy, but tonight was a mascarade and her platinum blonde hair had been charmed to a soft golden blond. Her mother had allowed her to lengthen it for the event, but only after she had been forced to take a wizarding oath first to charm it back as soon as she returned home.

Hermione had arranged to spend the night at the Parkinson's. She wasn't actually planning to spend the night there though. Mrs. Parkinson was a habitual drunk and Mr. Parkinson was in Azkaban. The masquerade ball tonight was to celebrate the reopening of Hogwarts and Hermione planned on celebrating under as many gents as she could get in, in a single evening. The masquerade was going to be at Hogwarts. They were closed for winter break and Headmistress McGonagall had invited all of her alumni back to celebrate.

Hermione hadn't bothered going back to finish her seventh year. As a Slytherin, she had been present for her seventh year but she had not taken her N.E.W.T. exams. Her mother insisted she take them as they could affect a future marriage proposal. Hermione had simply gone to the Ministry and sat her N.E.W.T. exams with most of her year. She had actually been sitting next to Harry Potter of all people. He had nodded and smiled at her when she sat down. He even offered her a chocolate frog that she refused. Wasn't he dating one of those Merlin awful Weasleys? 

The other sidekick, Ron Weasley sat behind her. Draco Granger was notably missing. She wasn't surprised though. The swotty prat was probably insisting on sitting through an entire seventh year at Hogwarts. Hermione shivered at the idea of the muggleborn. Millicent had an odd obsession with him. He had helped her with homework in their second year, prior to him being petrified of course, and the bloody woman fancied herself in love with him.

Even though the war ended and the Purebloods lost their fight to keep their lineage pure, muggleborns still unnerved her. There was something so... so unnatural about them. Purebloods still didn’t want muggleborns in their homes. The only difference was now it was socially unacceptable to say so. Hermione slipped on a pair of pale pink shoes with rose gold leaves wrapped around the heel. The flowers ended at the base of the shoe in a dark pink rose that wrapped around her ankle.

Her ensemble was completed with red lips and a matching black lace mask, cut from the same material as the lace on her dress. Her hair tumbled around her mask and she pinned bits of it up. She smiled devilishly at herself in the mirror. She looked nothing like a Malfoy. Perfect.

Draco sat staring at the mirror in front of him. He had spent the semester breaking every scholastic record Hogwarts had. The fact that he could pummel everyone on the Quidditch field didn’t hurt either. Professor McGonagall had joked over tea yesterday that he had more awards and medals than any student ever. Draco had thanked her praise and headed off to read by the Lake. He had been offered the title of Head Boy for the year but declined it.

This year was about healing for him. He missed Ron and Harry terribly but right now he needed to focus on him. He lost his parents to Voldemort and with it his last ties to the world he had been born into. He wanted the year to heal, to be reborn as a proper Wizard. A Wizard that didn’t have one foot in the muggle world and one foot in the Wizarding world.

He knew he must have gotten all O’s on his N.E.W.T exams because he was already offered a sub-head job at the Ministry. People always asked him how it felt to be at the top of the world. He usually mumbled something about counting his blessing and looking out for the little guy. The truth was, he didn’t feel like he was on top of the world at all. While he was alone and his bed cold, Harry and Ginny were disgustingly in love and Ron had established himself as a Wizard whore.

Draco and Harry didn’t begrudge Ron his ways though. He would settle down eventually and abandon the alcohol and the women. Hopefully, he wouldn’t decide to settle down with Lavender. There was only so much shrill screaming a person could take and Draco didn’t think he could do yearly holidays with her. He’d lose his hearing before he was thirty.

Draco had not just spent the year studying though, he spent it training on the Quidditch pitch and running at night when the dreams wouldn’t leave him be. The result was what Draco was currently staring at in the mirror with a mixture of horror and awe.

He has abs and muscles! He spent the entire fourth year praying to every known deity for abs and now he had abs and muscles. When there was no one noticing him and when he had only one pair of dress robes and they didn’t fit his new body. Sighing he pulled a jersey on and began to bundle up. He was going to need to dash to Hogsmeade and purchase a new outfit for the masquerade ball tonight. Being in Hogsmeade he was going to have to take a thestral carriage with the alumni.

He sighed as he dashed out. Better get this over with.

Hermione’s robes sat on her shoulders as she cast heating charms on her toes. With her mask on no one knew she was a Malfoy. It was a great idea, in theory, however, that meant she had to stand on a line and wait with everyone else for the festive carriages. The line began to move and she stumbled. Hermione Malfoy didn’t just stumble, her heel was embedded within a crack in the cobblestone. She panicked as she attempted to dislodge it without cracking the delicate rose gold leaves. In her panic, she missed her turn and the next shift of carriages left.

“Need a hand?” startled she jumped and fell into a firm chest. A pair of strong arms righted her. One hand released her, as the man behind her knelt down and used his bloody hand to gently unstick her shoe. “Can’t just wave your wands for everything miss.”

His voice had a deep timber and as she turned around to get a better view of him she heard a carriage arrive. She could smell new robes as he walked in front of her to get the door. He strode with purpose, his back tall. This man was born a prince. Hermione stared at him with envy. Who was he?

He turned fully towards her. His black and white checkered mask took up most of his face and his light brown hair curled lightly on his head. Her grey eye’s zeroed in on his soft brown ones, trying not to focus on his full lips and wondering what they taste like. He reached out a hand and helped her into the carriage. He followed shutting the door behind him.

“It’s cold,” he said by way of making conversation. She chuckled as he rubbed his hands together. She waved her wand sending numerous warming charms ensuring to cover his whole body.

“It seems wand waving does come in handy.” She tried to come off light but her voice shook and she was pretty sure he saw how nervous she was.

“It does but there are plenty of things you can do with your hands that you wouldn’t want to do with your wand.” he murmured. Hermione felt herself get very warm and it had nothing to do with the heating charm.

Draco was panicking. How the bloody hell did he end up with this gorgeous Witch in a carriage together. One minute he carelessly bumped into her and the next he was bumbling and helping her into a carriage like he was Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. Also, he was freezing his bollocks off. Literally. He could feel them shrinking.

She flicked her wand with the practice ease of someone who probably used magic to brush their teeth. His parents would be horrified. He felt his entire body including his bollocks get toasty warm. He tried not to make any weird faces or say anything about his bollocks. She was saying something about a wand, like her magic wand. Not the other type of wand…

She was talking about using magic for things you could use your hands for. Imagine turning pages of a book with your wand! Draco had to hold back a groan at the terrifying thought.

“It does but there are plenty of things you can do with your hands that you wouldn’t want to do with your wand.”

As soon as he said it he realized how badly he had bollocks up. Her eyes darkened and for a moment Draco thought it was fear. He was very much aware that it was just the two of them in the carriage. Draco flicked his eyes out the window of the carriage. He wondered if he could jump-

The girl in the delicate shoes and revealing dress catapulted herself off of her seat and into his lap. Her hands gripped his arms with alarming strength as her lips met his. The first kiss wasn’t soft or sweet. It was searing and urgent and it left him completely breathless.

“You’re beautiful” he breathed. She smiled shyly. Her fingers were trailing along his shirt. At some point during their kiss, his arms had gone around her back to support her. He realized he was gripping her arse. He went to apologize but she smiled.

“I like it when you grab me.”

“Really? Most girls don’t”

“Moonpie, there is nothing regular or ordinary about me.”

“I’ll say,” he muttered before leaning her down gently on the seat and covering her body with his own. He ground his body on hers as they kissed. She made soft noises of pleasure when he felt himself grind up against the juncture between her legs.

Her dress had ridden up and he felt his throat go dry. She was wearing lace knickers that were clipped together by some sort of belt thing that was secured to a garter that was attached to stockings. He ran one hand up her smooth legs. It was like having an out of body experience. He knew what to do and when to do it without following a book or instructions. He was running on instinct alone

He used his teeth to unclip the garter and watched as the stockings slid down her legs pooling at her ankles. He kissed a line up her thighs until he reached her black lace knickers. Gentle not to tear them he slid them off with his fingers. She moaned, her back on the bench and her hands clawing at him.

He had heard his friends talk and he had seen both Muggle and Wizarding magazines. He knew what to do and what it was supposed to look like, but nothing prepared you for the real thing. He flicked his tongue on her quim and was rewarded with a loud moan.

“More?”

“Please!”

He buried his face into her and began to lap his tongue on her pulsing bud. She shivered and moaned. He remembered Harry mentioned Ginny liked when he sucked hard. He tried it gently and she jerked so hard she nearly fell off the bench.

“Like that?”

“If you don’t do it again, I may maim you.” He sucked and licked creating a rhythm. She moaned and pleaded and begged him for god knows what until she cried out and he saw a white cream explode out of her.

There was a soft layer of sweat on her pristine face and they were both panting. He was about to warn her that the castle was approaching when she yanked him down and started kissing feverishly up his neck.

“Again,” she demanded between kisses. “Again.”

He smiled casting a muffliato, notice-me not, and a cooling charm.

Hermione was in heaven. Hermione was in actual heaven. She stopped caring who he was the first time he made her orgasm. She had three while he went down on her and she wasn’t sure she could handle another one but she sure as hell wanted one.

He began to move back down to her body when she stopped him with a gesture of her hand. “No, let me.”

His face turned scarlet and Hermione wondered just how often he did this kind of thing. From his previous performance, she would have assumed he was some sort of man whore. His mildly terrified expression said otherwise.

“I’ve never…”  Bingo.

“Don’t worry. You have to have a first time at some point and I think I owe you a favor.”

“What if I embarrass myself?” he was so vulnerable Hermione kissed him softly.

“Then you’ll have time to make me scream again.” Without waiting for his response Hermione dropped to her knees and spelled down his trousers. He sprung from his pants quickly and Hermione smiled. She was definitely riding that later. It was huge. There was no other word to describe it. Even Blaise wasn’t that big and he was the biggest in their house.

She wrapped her mouth around him pulling him back as far he could go. Sliding her tongue up and down his shaft she sucked as she bobbed up and down. Her checkered masked crusader threw his head back and groaned. She smiled as her head bobbed up and down. She was glad she had thought to have put a permanent sticking charm on her mask before she left the Manor.

He threaded his hands in her hand and yanked her head up. It hurt, but not in a bad way. She was turned on and she began to finger herself as she sucked. He fucked her head harder and she slammed up and down on him. She choked on his length when he pulled her all the way to the base of him. He held her there for several seconds before releasing her to go back down.

“More.”

“More.”

“Harder”

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Aa-” he grumbled into an incoherency that Hermione knew well. He fell back bonelessly as Hermione swallowed his cum. After fixing his pants, he pulled her up into his arms and held her close. It was… new. Definitely not something she was used to. Purebloods slept around, it was common knowledge but there were certain things they did not do. Cuddling and pillow talk was not one of them.

“You’re an angel.” she giggled at his breathless face. “No seriously a nameless faceless angel.”

“Nameless?”

“Well yeah, I have no idea what your name is.”

“Well aren’t you a regular Romeo? I think… you can call me Juliet.”

“Well, Juliet you are possibly the most stunning creature I have ever seen.”

“Seen much have you?” she giggled again. She felt lighter than she had in ages. How was he making her laugh so much?

“Loads... in magazines and stuff.” she burst out laughing and he smiled as if she had given him free access to her Gringotts. “You really are beautiful.”

“Why thank you Romeo, but we really should get to the party. We’ll be missed.”

“How will I know how to find you, Juliet? I don’t think I could live without you.”

She swatted him playfully. “You’ll be just fine.

His eyes grew dark and he pulled her closer to him. He could hear loud voices around their carriage. Probably Harry or Ron looking for him, they must be really late. Harry and Ron would have checked their dorms first.

“No, I really can’t let you leave until I know a way for us to meet up again later.”

“We’ll meet up at the fruit basket painting on the first floor.”

“The kitchens?”

“Yes.”

“What if you’re not there?”

“I will be. Now go, so I can fix my lipstick.”

He rolled over and straightened his robes. He meant to give her a quick peck on his way out but it turned into a deep kiss with her on her back and Draco towering over her. She pushed him away lightly. They were both panting and struggling for air.

“Go.” he rushed out of the carriage and scurried up the path leading to Hogwarts. There were plenty of carriages lining the path and he hoped the occupants had half as much fun as he had.

Hermione stood next to Pansy trying to find her Romeo while speeches were given about the restoration of Hogwarts and the immense gratitude to those who helped. Apparently, the golden trio donated all their award money from their Order of Merlin’s to restore Hogwarts. Hermione and her mother had been forced to pay for half of the repairs as restitution.

Her father had been tossed in a cell along with his Death Eater buddies. While she missed her father, she was also terrified of him. The truth was she lost her father the day the Dark Lord returned. Her daddy would never have tortured innocent people over their dinner table or go down to the cellars where she knew her classmates were being kept. She could still hear their screams in her head at night.

“And lastly, I would like to invite Mr.s’ Potter, Weasley, and Granger to say a few words.”

“Oh look, Weasley is going up to the podium. I heard he’s shagged half of Europe and the Chudley Cannons gave him a deal for the upcoming season.” Pansy murmured.

“Aren’t they a terrible team?” she whispered back.

“Apparently he’s obsessed with them. I heard….” Hermione was no longer listening. Standing next to Harry Potter was a tall man with a black and white checkered mask.

“Romeo,” she whispered.

“What? Who the bloody hell is Romeo?” Pansy was looking at her as if she had sprouted two heads, Hermione honestly felt like she had. “Hermione, you don’t look good. Are you-”

Hermione rushed out of the Great Hall. She ran passed staircases and the hallway that would have led her to the portrait they were supposed to meet up at. She ran and ran until she reached the entrance hall. She rushed down the stairs her legs wobbling as she ran. She was going to burn the shoes when she got home.

Home.

She’d shagged one of the freakin bloody golden trio. She needed to get home. She needed-

“Wait!” Hermione froze on the last step. Oh, no. This wasn’t happening. Why had she stopped? “Why are you running?”

“I-”

“Is it because of who I am?” when she didn’t answer, he continued. “Most girls are intimidated to be anywhere near me.

Hermione whirled around. “I am not intimidated of you, Granger.”

Draco Granger winced while simultaneously grabbing her arm to prevent further escape. “Yeesh. I’m guessing you’re a Slytherin. I guess Ron was yanking my chain when he said all Slytherin’s wore green knickers.”

She spluttered angrily as he pulled her away from the main stairs and into an alcove on the side.

“Let me go!”

“Not until you hear me out.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“You’re not worth the trouble.”

He smirked like the regular git he was. “Yes I am, you said so in the carriage.”

“I did not!” she snorted.

“You implied it.”

“Not the same.”

He leaned close to her, pinning her against the wall. He traced one finger along the side of her mask. He lowered his lips right above her ear and breathed, “Take it off.”

She shook her head not trusting herself to speak. He repeated his request in the same sensual manner that was making her head fuzzy and her knickers damp.

“Why?”

“You’ll hate me when I do,” she whispered. Her eyes stung. She was having such a lovely night. She hadn’t been cursed, hexed, or shouted at. Granger threaded his fingers through her hair again.

“Please.”

Nonverbally, she released the sticking charm on her mask. Her heart felt so heavy she momentarily worried about it falling from her chest. With her eyes downcast in shame she felt her mask flutter from her face and onto the floor in between them.

“Hermione Malfoy?” he gasped. He took a step back and Hermione used that step to flee. She ran passed the Thestrals and the carriages. She ran until she was passed the anti-apparition wards. She spun in place, not caring that it was serious social gaffe not to have stayed for the duration of the evening. She ran through the empty haunted halls of Malfoy Manor and rushed into the safety of her room. Tears splashed down the front of her face and trickled down onto her dress.

She began to flick her wand but paused. Using nimble fingers she carefully unbuttoned her dress and set it over a chair. She removed her bra and panties and slipped into her night robes. Looking at her bed sent a fresh new wave of tears and she threw herself into her pillows. Tears poured from her eyes.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t her fault her father decided to host an evil maniac! Did anyone ask her what it was like to have sociopaths live in her home? Did the Wizengamot ask what the deranged prisoners from Azkaban did to her and her mother? No. All they cared about was blaming her and her mother for things that were wildly out of their control. Hermione was doomed to live pitiful dull life.

The only marriage contracts her mother had been able to finagle was old prejudiced Pureblood families. She begged her mother not to. She didn’t want her children to suffer from their father’s mistakes, as she had. Her deadline to pick one suitor was tomorrow.

All she wanted was one night out. One night of freedom before she was bound in servitude forever. She-

Hermione’s pity party was interrupted by a pounding on her bedroom door. She rolled off her bed immediately, crouching with her wand aimed. When the pounding didn’t cease she panicked. It was the only thing she could really blame for sending a Bombarda at a door her mother could have been behind.

The door flew off of its hinges and blew up in a spectacular splintery mess. She heard two shouts and an unmistakable yelp from a house elf. One of the shouts was female and the other was decidedly not.

“Hello?” she stayed behind her bed, her wand drawn.

“Hermione you idiot!” Pansy was standing behind the remains of her door looking shell-shocked.

“What? Pansy what the bloody hell-”

“Hermione! Were you crying?” Hermione turned away from her best friend. She wasn’t supposed to cry. She was supposed to be strong. Pansy stepped around the wreckage and flung her arms around her friend. “What happened, sweetie?”

The whole story came tumbling out as Hermione lay in Pansy’s comforting arms. She hiccupped and cried some more and even sent her house elf to get her some brownies and ice cream. They had relocated to the balcony so Hermione could get more air. She was prone to panic attacks and being in the outdoors helped them. She hated being trapped.

“It’s going to be okay. Don’t worry. Draco wants to apologize!”

“What? How could you possibly know that?” Pansy’s face paled and she jumped off of Hermione’s settee.

“Shit! He was knocking on your bedroom door. I brought him and then you blew the freaking door off its hinges!” Hermione took off running in time to see Draco Granger standing and casually talking to her mother like it was the most normal thing in the world. Her mother. There was a muggleborn in her house talking to her mother.

“Ummm…” Her mother turned and smiled at her daughter.

“Hermione! Mr. Granger just came by to let me know that he was planning on courting you! Honestly Draco dear, I really don’t know why she didn’t say anything. It was quite the shock to see you ambling about in the hallway.”

“I do apologies Mrs. Malfoy I really didn’t mean to give you a fright.”

“No. No. All is forgiven. You will be here for brunch tomorrow?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it. I was just going to say goodnight to my dearest.” Hermione gaped like a fish. She was still trying to process her obliterated door being completely fine and looking better than it had previously.

“Of course, Pansy it is more unfortunate your mother has the flu. Let me show you to a guest room. I’ll see to it that an elf sends your mother a care package in the morning. Poor thing…”

The two Witches took off walking down the hallway talking to each other.

“Hermione?” Hermione focused on his voice, Draco’s voice. Draco Granger. Who was standing outside her room, in her house, in the middle of the night? Oh, dear Merlin. She was wearing her pajamas.

“Draco what are you doing here?”

“I came to ask you and your mother’s permission to court you.”

“Me?” Hermione squeaked.

“Yes, I’m quite smitten.”

“But...I’m…”

“As long as you don’t try and blow me up again I think we’ll be good. I’ll be here for breakfast tomorrow and then after I had planned a trip to the circus. Pansy mentioned you always wanted to go?”

Hermione felt breathless. What… How?

Draco leaned in close and kissed her lips gently. He drew back quickly leaving Hermione aching for more. “I am going to show you just how great you are and just how amazing we could be together, Hermione Malfoy.”

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