The Muggleborn Vampire: A Dramione Story

Chapter 35: Velvet

(Warning, slight smut ahead)

Draco was surprised that the taste of his own blood on Hermione's tongue didn't disgust him as the brunette girl claimed his mouth after delivering her venom to his bloodstream. On the contrary, he found the iron taste pleasently tangy and his mouth became a bit tingly after a few moments, most likely due to said venom.

"Sweet Salazar...Hermione..." Draco moaned as the vampiric girl released his mouth and began to give him open mouth kisses on his jaw. He clung to her shoulders for support, for he was a bit dizzy after the bite, and, as if she could sense his worry, he felt himself being gently pushed backwards until his back met the tower's stone ledge. Hermione's hands then encircled his waist and drug him downwards, until he sat on the ground, the railing supporting his back. At any normal time, he would have protest the sliding of his robes on the dusty floor, but as the girl joined him and began to straddle his legs, that became the last thing on his mind.

Draco's eyes closed without his permission as he began to loose control over the thousands of stimuli bombarding his mind all at once. His skin felt aflame as venom coursed under it and kisses and hot breath brushed above it. Fingers delved into his hair and pulled at just the right force that caused him to see stars behind his lids.

His breath was shaky and gaspy already, but then the lips left his neck and raised to curress his ear. "You're being such a good boy. Let go for Mummy."

And that was it. All control left him as his baser instincts took over. Following a loud moan and a yell of Hermione's name, Draco's body fell unconscious, no longer able to process all the incoming and outgoing sensations.

---

When Draco came to, he again found himself sleeping in a pair of transfigured pajamas and laying on Severus Snape's couch under an Afghan blanket.

Blinking away the sleep from his eyes, his face flushed when the memories of he and Hermione's actions from the night before flooded his mind.

Who in their right mind would of thought that Hermione Granger, of all people, could break though his proper, poised and admittedly arrogent mask he normally had no problems keeping in place and cause him lose all control and turn his brain to mush? And where in the world did this mummy kink come from? Granted, Draco hadn't had that much experience with girls in the past, aside from a short fling with Pansy the year before that didn't go farther then heavy snogging, but he didn't expect something like that to effect him as much as it did.

'Merlin, I wouldn't mind doing that again. Not at all. Maybe tonight I can convince Hermione....when did Granger become 'Hermione'...?'

"If you value your life at all, Draco Malfoy, I better be halucinating you grinding into my couch mumbling my daughter's name."

"Shit!" Draco bolted into a sitting position fast enough to make his head spin. He moaned in pain and embarrassment as he simultaneously held his aching head with one hand and pulled the Afghan over his lap with the other. "G-good morning, uncle. I was just...admiring the softness of your couch. Oh, how I do love velvet."

An impregnated silence filled the room as the dreaded Potions Master turned surprisingly overprotective father sneered at his godson's tomato-colored face and uncomfortable sitting position. "Indeed, I do also enjoy that couch. It had been mine when I was younger, but it was unfortunately taken and rehomed by someone who thought I was unsuited to care for it. I have only just recently located it and reintroduced it to the surroundings in which I believe will allow it to thrive in the best light possible. However, in the last few days I've noticed that you have came and tried claimed it as your own. If I'm not careful, it could soon find itself being relocated to your living quarters before I have even had the chance to warm up to the notion of it being in mine again. Such a travesty, isn't it, nephew?"

"I-uh, have no clue what you're talking about."

"Pity, such a poignant metaphor it was."

Both of the room's male occupants were torn away from their awkward exchange by the sound of Hermione's bedroom door opening.

"Good morning, gentleman." She smiled as she entered the living room, turning to close her door and adjusting her beaded bag on her shoulder. When she turned back and finally looked up, she raised a confused eyebrow at the obviously tense discussion she had just interrupted. "Are we all okay here?" She asked, her eyes flashing red as she quickly scanned Draco's sitting body for harm before turning brown again after she insured his physical safety.

"Entirely. We were just discussing our shared fondness for unique furnature. Mr. Malfoy and I just finished coming to the agreement that, though we may enjoy surrounding ourselves with velvet furnishings, such special settings are to be handled with great care and respect, or we may find ourselves evoked of said pieces and punished by the ones who furnished us with them in the fist place."

A pair of confused eyes and a pair of narrowed eyes came to rest on Draco, who worked to swallow his uneasiness and straightened his posture on the couch. "You're quite right sir, though I'm a bit worried that the new couch I've acquired may overshadow and outshine my entire dormitory with its beautiful and smart design. It may not be the sort of furnishing that I'm used  to having in my living space, but I intend to give it all I have to make sure the rest of the room is worthy to house it, sir." 

"We will see in due time, I suppose."

"Yes sir."

"Okay..., if you guys are done being all weird and cryptic, we should get a move on and ready ourselves for the day before all three of us are late for classes, don't you think so?"

With a short nod, Severus stood and smoothed out the front of his robes. "Of course. You are dismissed, Mr. Malfoy."

"Th-thank you Unc-professor." Draco stammered as he all but fled the room, repositioning his re-transfigured school robes as he went.

Folding her arms across her chest, Hermione shot her father a suspecting glare. "That wasn't just a conversation about mere furniture, was it?"

"Of course not." He answered, his back to her as he entered the kitchen. "Would you like a cup of Ab+ or O-?"

With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, she sat down on the couch and folded her legs under her. "Suprise me."