Hermione stepped onto the Hogwarts Express with a smile on her lips. Even after all these years, she loved the excitement of the start of school. Watching the new first years walk down the corridor, fear and excitement in their eyes, she was taken back to her first year on this train. Neville, the first friend she had made. Meeting Harry and Ron, who would become her best friends, and her first meeting with Malfoy, the snobby blond who had become her enemy. It was amazing how time changed things, how she now boarded the train with happiness instead of anxiety, how Hogwarts had become her home, making everywhere else feel as if she was just visiting.
She was mid-way through the train, her progress slowed by the numerous students also making their way to their respected compartments, pausing to talk along the way with several. She was about to step into the next train compartment when a strong arm went around her waist, a hand covering her mouth, pulling her backwards into a dark compartment. Hermione struggled, fingernails clutching at the hand across her lips, listening to a low chuckle that sent tremors throughout her body as she recognized the husky tone.
"Keep struggling, Granger. I love it when you fight," Draco Malfoy purred in her ear as he shut the door of the compartment, pushing her forward and quickly locking the room using a charm she wouldn’t be able to unlock. With a few words, candles were burning, casting a pale glow on the darkness, letting him see her frantically searching for something. He smirked as he held her wand up, innocently asking, "Looking for this?"
Hermione’s eyes widened as she saw her wand, reaching for it, "Give that to me, you bastard. Let me out of here!"
"Let me think about that," he smiled smugly as he looked at her lazily, enjoying the control he had that afternoon. Her chestnut curls were loose, unruly, framing an extremely pretty face that was flushed with fear and perhaps excitement. Her robe was not yet fastened, letting him see the full breasts her Muggle shirt did little to conceal, and the pleated skirt that displayed long legs golden brown from a summer spent mostly outdoors. Her knee socks were firmly in place, letting him view just a brief expanse of flesh between the skirt and socks. In a way, he found it more arousing to see so little, knowing it would make it more enjoyable as each bit of tantalizing skin was revealed to him. Draco ran his tongue along his lips, looking very much like a predator as his eyes feasted on her unique beauty. His voice lowered and his eyes darkened as he said, "No. You’re mine now, Granger. My captive. Whatever shall I do with you?"
"Malfoy, this isn’t funny," Hermione’s voice was trembling as she saw the look in his gray eyes, conflicting emotions spreading all over her. Fear of what he was planning and, damn it, arousal at all the possibilities. He wasn’t wearing his robe yet so she could see the black trousers that fit him as if they were made to caress the contours of his muscular legs and firm arse and his white shirt that was only buttoned at the bottom, displaying his smooth chest and the giving glimpses of a flat abdomen with only a bit of pale blond hair leading into the waist of his trousers. He was definitely an attractive man, his face sharp angles and classically handsome, his hair tousled and falling to his neck in waves of white gold, his full lips curving into a knowing smirk as he caught her ogling. Her cheeks blushed as she looked away, cursing him for causing such a reaction despite her worry.
"Well, Granger, I’m not trying to be amusing," he smiled as he saw the desire in her eyes, deliberately unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He’d been getting dressed when he heard her voice in the corridor, impulsively deciding to grab her, wanting to play a bit before arriving at school. He’d known she’d fight him, his palm still stinging from where she’d tried to bite him. He tossed her wand on the luggage shelf, holding his on her as he demanded, "Remove your robe."
"I certainly will not!" she glared at him, her body reacting to his voice and his eyes and his command as a wave of arousal spread over her. He moved before she had time to react, his hand on her chin, his wand against her throat.
"You’re not the one in control here, Granger, so I advise that you do exactly what I say," he warned dangerously, his eyes looking from hers to focus on her full lips, groaning softly as he lowered his head and kissed her possessively, her mouth opening to protest, his tongue using it to his advantage and claiming her fully. It was a rough and passionate kiss, not pretense at tenderness, her lips bruising beneath the ferocity and fierceness of his lips. When he released her, she was breathing heavy, her lips swollen and wet, her eyes wide and aroused. Smirking, he sat down and repeated, "Take off your robe, *captive*."
Hermione glared as he stressed the word captive, letting her know that he had the power with just that one word. With a scowl at his smug expression, she let the material of her robe slide off her shoulders, folding it and placing it on the bench behind her before looking back at the wicked blond. She was amazed to find him watching her closely, his hand squeezing a very prominent erection that was pressing against his trousers. She suddenly realized what he had planned, unable to ignore the blatant and sexual way that his eyes were moving over her. Her nipples hardened and her juices began to flow when she saw lust burning in his eyes.
"Good girl," he said in a patronizing tone, "now your shirt. Unbutton it and toss it over there."
She nibbled on her bottom lip as she obeyed him, finding it exciting to not to be in control. When her shirt was unbuttoned, she removed it and placed it on her robe. His lips curved into a smile when he saw her.
"No bra? You naughty little witch," he looked at her full breasts, noticing that her rosy nipples were hard, the plump globes rising and falling from her rapid breathing. He arched a brow as he huskily ordered, "Remove your knickers but leave your skirt on."
"I’m not wearing knickers, Malfoy," she smirked slightly as she saw his eyes darken at her words, realizing that he was just as aroused as she was and finding that gave her a bit of power even if she didn’t have her wand.
"Sit down and spread your legs, wider. Now lift your skirt. I want to see that pretty pussy, Granger," Draco licked his lips as she sat down and slowly lifted her skirt, groaning softly when he saw the tuft of curls that were a little darker than those on her head. His voice was almost begging as he said, "Touch yourself."
Hermione moved her fingers over the curves of her breasts, squeezing them and playing with her nipples, finding it very erotic that Draco was watching her perform this intimate and private act. Her amber eyes flashed with lust when he unzipped his trousers, freeing a very thick and hard cock, beginning to stroke himself as he watched her pleasure herself. His pale nipples were hard, his hand imitating her actions and brushing the flat of his thumb against one. Moving her hand to her lips, she sucked two fingers into her mouth, her eyes on his erection as she wet them. He moaned softly, his hand enveloping his cock and moving slowly, his pale body flushed with arousal.
Her fingers moved along her breast, a wet path of saliva visible as she twisted her nipple slightly, moaning lowly as she watched the handsome wizard wank. Deciding that she had teased enough, she moved her hand beneath the skirt that was bunched around her waist, raising a leg and resting it on the bench, giving him a better view of her pussy. Using two fingers, she spread herself open, his eyes narrowing as he watched her hands, his hand beginning to move faster along the length of his erection.
She moved her finger into her, not surprised at how wet she was, the juices flowing down the lips of her pussy and past her arse to leave a wet spot on her skirt and possibly the bench beneath her. Continuing to keep her pussy open for him to watch, her other hand began to move, another finger joining the first. The only sounds in the compartment were their heavy breathing, her soft moans, the sound of flesh against flesh as he stroked himself, and the squishing sound of her fingers plunging into her wetness.
After fucking her pussy with her fingers for a few minutes, she removed them, running them along the length of her lips, gently brushing against the pucker of her arse and then back up again. Her curls were matted with juices and her body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat as she continued to play with her pussy. Her skirt was around her waist, the material a bit scratchy, and she wished he’d told her to remove it, but it seemed he found it erotic for her to be wearing part of her clothing as she performed this act for him. Her eyes watched him stroke himself, his cock thick and leaking precum, white liquid dripping from the flap of skin on the head, his fingers using that liquid to coat his shaft.
"Fuck yourself, Granger," he growled, eyes flashing as he caught her watching him wank, "No more teasing. I want that hand buried in that tight wet cunt. Come for me."
"Merlin," she whimpered, finding his words exciting, plunging two fingers inside as she began to fuck herself. A third finger was added, her body pressing against her hand as her other hand moved up to fondle her breasts. She was so aroused that she knew she’d come as soon as she touched her clit, avoiding the sensitive nub as her fingers explored her depths. She continued that way for several minutes, deliberately avoiding coming, watching him watch her, excited beyond belief as she saw the desire he felt for her.
"Now, damn it," he ordered huskily, knowing she was close, watching her thumb brush against her clit three times before she came with a low cry of his name. He was off the bench instantly, his hand released his throbbing erection, his face buried between her wet thighs. His hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling it from her pussy, his tongue entering her as he feasted on her come, the brunette becoming more vocal as he tongued her clit and lapped at her release. She was writhing on the bench, her skirt covering his blond hair, his hand moving to hold her wet one, fingers entangling, as he kept her on the edge from her previous orgasm, her voice begging him for more, wanting him inside her.
He waited until he heard the gasping moans that signified her imminent release before he stood up and pulled her against him. His hands moved beneath her arse, squeezing her cheeks as he lifted her, her hand holding his cock as she slid down onto his erection. Their lips met, her tongue licking her juices from his face before delving into his mouth. Pressing her against the window, he began to fuck her hard and deep, their foreplay finished for the time being. Her muscles convulsed around him, her body still riding the previous two orgasms, his own release so bloody close. As he soon as he was sheathed inside her, he felt home, her legs wrapping around his waist as she bounced down to meet his thrusts.
Fingers tangled in his hair as her other hand played with his sensitive nipples, causing him to go even deeper as she teased the nubs. Within a dozen thrusts, he felt his balls tighten before his body arched, sinking into her as he came with a groan of her name. His fingers moved between them, twisting her clit, her body exploding as she came, milking his release from his cock as they kissed again. Unlike the other kisses, this one was tender and loving with the same passion that always existed between them. Releasing her lips, he smiled wickedly, his fingers brushing a lock of hair from her sweaty face.
"Don’t say anything," she warned as her fingers moved against his full lips, "you’ll make some arrogant or rude comment and just make me mad."
"I like making you mad, love," he reminded with a smirk, "your face turns the most lovely shade of red and your eyes are gorgeous when you’re upset with me. Ravishingly beautiful, I’d say. Makes me want to shag you no matter where we are because I know it will be rough and wild and you’ll lose control."
"You always make me lose control," she sighed happily.
"Yes, well, it’s only fair since you have the same affect on me," he declared smugly, kissing her again.
Before Hermione could reply, there was a knock on the door to their compartment. A voice called out, "Professors Malfoy? The Prefect Meeting will begin soon. I’m gathering everyone for you."
"Thank you, Karen," Hermione called out after Draco reluctantly removed the silencing spell from their compartment. "We’ll be there soon."
"Trust an annoying Gryffindor to interrupt us," Draco muttered as he slid out of his wife and let her stand. With a few waves of his wand, the sweat and sticky release was removed from their bodies, though he deliberately did not remove the mark he had left on her neck, wanting to make sure everyone was aware that she was his, knowing those damn seventh years loved to try to charm her or flirt with her since she was easily the prettiest witch at Hogwarts. That would stop after the first attempt, a glare from him working wonders on the students’ libidos and foolish infatuations with him or his wife.
"Don’t insult my House, Slytherin," she smiled as she smoothed her skirt down and put her shirt back on, buttoning it as she watched her husband of five years do the same. They’d been out of school for eight years, both finishing their University classes in two years and becoming Professors at Hogwarts at the same time. They’d not gotten along at all those first few months, bickering and fighting just as they had for seven years as students, though they were more mature and subtle with their arguments as they matured. It had been the Christmas holidays that year when they’d found themselves beneath mistletoe, glaring at each other before they’d kissed.
The kiss had deepened until they’d pulled back, both breathing hard and unable to continue ignoring the attraction that had always seemed to exist between them. A year later, they were married beneath the same mistletoe, her husband having a bit of a romantic streak despite his adamant claims about finding such nonsense foolish and pathetic and sappy. He’d kept the mistletoe that had caused them to realize what they’d always tried to fight, charming it so it never died, and placing it in a position of importance on the bookcase. With a teasing smile, she arched a brow, "So that’s what you thought about doing to me during the train ride to Hogwarts each year?"
"From fourth year on," he smiled somewhat sheepishly, "that was the year you grew a bit taller and began to develop those gorgeous breasts. I’d watch you walk around with Potty and Weasel and imagine stealing you away from them and making you touch yourself while I watched. Merlin, I spent a majority of the trip to Hogwarts in the loo wanking while imagining all the things I’d love to do to you."
"You hid it well because I always thought you hated me," she grinned, always finding it astonishing when he volunteered something regarding the time when they’d still been enemies, not believing that he’d wanted her for so long and she’d never realized. She knew they’d have never been able to have what they have now if they’d realized their feelings during school, neither prepared to handle a relationship with such conflict as theirs would have had during that time, and she couldn’t imagine not having him in her life so she was actually happy that they had ignored and fought the attraction during their years as students. Of course, she was also grateful for that mistletoe because, without it, who knows how long it would have taken for either of them to actually admit they might care?
Even after they got together, it took time before Draco had confessed that he’d fancied her a bit during school. Since then, he’d sometimes mention things about those years, what he had felt and wanted, the things he had wanted to do to her. She would do the same, confessing her fantasy of taking him in the middle of Potions class, the two of them acting that one out several times since. It had taken him five years of marriage before he’d admitted this particular fantasy, a bit sheepish as he told her about it when they’d been laying spent and sated beneath the stars one evening over the summer. He had gotten hard talking about it, telling her exactly what he had imagined doing to her during the ride to Hogwarts all those years ago, and she’d known she wanted to experience it, the two of them always eager to act out each other’s fantasies.
Besides, she had to admit that she had a very similar fantasy during the last two years at school, drifting off when Ron and Harry talked about Quidditch to think about the sensual blond Slytherin shagging her rotten on the train ride to school. He might have been an enemy, but he’d grown up into a very handsome, confident, sexy man and she was a woman, even if her friends rarely saw her as one, so it was only logical that she would have fantasies about the one wizard who could best her in an argument and seemed to look at her some times as if she was female when he didn’t think she was looking. It had never occurred to her that he might want her because he was so contemptuous of her know-it-all attitude and upbringing as a Muggle, but he had definitely been her primary fantasy from sixth year until he’d become her reality. Of course, she still fantasized about her sexy husband, finding him even more arousing after six years together.
"Oh, I didn‘t like you much at all. I just wanted you desperately," he smirked as he finished buttoning his shirt and tucked it into his trousers. Looking at her, his eyes softened and he smiled, "The love part didn’t happen until a few years later." He walked towards her, lips brushing against hers before he admitted, "And now I can’t imagine my life without you, Hermione. I love you so bloody much."
"I love you, too, Draco," she kissed him gently before removing his hand from her arse and scolding him playfully, "There will be none of that, Professor Malfoy. We have a prefect meeting to oversee."
"Don’t remind me," he grimaced as he squeezed her arse, purring, "however, after the blasted meeting, we’ll still have several hours before we get to Hogsmeade. I do wonder how we can occupy our time."
"I’m certain that we can think of something enjoyable and creative," she winked before kissing him once more, her hand cupping his cock and squeezing as she nibbled his lip, "after the meeting."
He smiled wickedly as he followed her into the corridor, his mouth beside her ear as he promised, "This is going to be the shortest Prefect meeting in history, love."
*the end*