Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Depressing, but true.

Hello friends! Well, it's been one heckuva season. Some stuff sucked, but some stuff was lovely too (I got engaged!). I've been having a bitch of a time with my full-lengths, so here's a smutty three-shot for you. It's very smutty, and there's a bit of non-con, so if those things don't suit you, avert your eyes. I meant for it to be one chapter, but I couldn't fit it all in (that's what she... nevermind). The plot is inspired by the experiences of some friends of mine who had really messed up dreams on malaria meds. You know what they say... All plot ideas lead to Dramione (oh wait, it's just me who says that). Love you! Will post the next chappie tomorrow, so please review!

"You're going where?"


Hermione's Muggle doctor smiled pleasantly at her, but tilted her head slightly to the left, indicating her confusion.

"That's quite a difference from the last time we talked. I think you had mentioned perhaps making a short trip to Ireland, no?"

"Yes, well, things have changed. I need a change of scenery. A big change of scenery."

Hermione swung her legs awkwardly from the hospital table on which she sat. A change of scenery was putting it mildly. What she needed was a new life, but since that wasn't terribly likely to happen, Malawi would have to do. It was really, really far away from everything she was used to, and that was fine by her. Everything she was used to was in the process of falling apart.

"Malawi is a fascinating place," her doctor said, scribbling something down on her clipboard. "I've done some work with charities in the region. You'll have an amazing time, I'm sure. I imagine you've looked into the different tours you can do?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely. The wildlife reserves, the safaris, the cycling trips…. I'm sure I'll be kept very busy." And I won't have any time to think about Ron, she finished silently. I will keep myself so busy that I won't be able to sit around feeling sorry for myself.

I won't think about how he moved out last week.

I won't think about his new girlfriend.

I won't think about how long it's been since we had sex.

"And will your boyfriend be joining you?"

Hermione's face fell. "Uh, we broke up."

A look of understanding crept across her doctor's face. "I see. Well, this will certainly take your mind off things. You'll need to get quite a few vaccines I'm afraid, and since it's a malaria zone, you'll need to take this." She handed Hermione a box of pills, and Hermione inspected the packaging with a frown.


"Effective, easy to take, and most importantly, will keep you from getting sick. Malaria is no joking matter. You say you leave in two weeks?"

Hermione nodded.

"Good thing you came to see me when you did. Take one pill per day until you leave – you need to have your body ready to protect itself by the time you go. You're not to skip a single dose, understand?"

"Of course," Hermione said. "Thank you."

"Have a good time, dear," said her doctor, smiling. "Sometimes getting away is the best cure for a broken heart."

Hermione's cheeks reddened and she fumbled with the box of pills, stuffing them into her purse. Even if it was true, she didn't particularly want to talk about it.

"Right. Thanks."

"Oh, and I should mention… This particular medicine has a rather odd side effect."

"Which is?"

"Strange, vivid dreams," her doctor said with a friendly smile. "Last time I had to take it I dreamt I was flying on an elephant through giant rings of donuts, and that was just the first night."


"I'm sure you'll be fine. Just know that it's completely normal."

As she left the room, Hermione could have sworn she heard her doctor mutter "don't even get me started on the dreams where I was swimming in a bathtub of rum, armed only with a toothbrush and a stick of rhubarb."

Hermione inspected the box of pills again. So plain looking. How much damage could they do, really? Dreams were such harmless things.

The door to her flat clicked shut behind her, and Hermione's breath caught in her throat. It was amazing how empty the place looked without Ron's stuff.

The articles he had framed were taken off the walls. His books, although nowhere near the amount she had, still left an empty shelf in the middle of the bookcase. His coats, boots, broom, smelly socks, dishes, rumpled clothing, toiletry bottles, towels on the floor… All gone. Despite having nagged him for years about those very things, she suddenly missed them fiercely.

A bowl of cold cereal and a halfhearted attempt to read a book left her feeling miserable, so she forced down the chalky pill with a glass of water and crawled into bed.

Malawi couldn't come fast enough. Gods, if she could, she would leave tomorrow. Unfortunately, the international portkey would only be cleared for use in two weeks time, and besides, she needed to get her things in order before running away with her tail between her legs. Work was busy, her files needed to be closed, and of course, Ron still had a few things at the flat he would be coming to get before she left for vacation.

Two weeks. It felt like a lifetime.

Hermione drifted off to sleep, hoping she would dream of something interesting. Even an elephant jumping through donut hoops would be better than this nightmare.

Something was wrong. She couldn't see anything. Why was she blindfolded? Hermione tried to move her hands.

They were tied together above her head. She tugged at them, hearing only the clinking of chains above her.

What. The. Fuck.

"Hello?" she called out, panicked. "Can someone help me?"

"Depends what you mean by help," someone murmured into her ear, hot breath ghosting onto her neck from behind. Yelping with surprise, she jerked away from the voice.

"I mean help free my hands and take the blindfold off," she stammered nervously, unsure about the intentions of whomever was hovering behind her. She heard him walk slowly around her body until he was right in front of her, and then felt him lean in until his lips were tickling her neck, causing her to recoil in response. Where the fuck did this stranger get off -

"Well Granger, I can help you with one of those things."

Her stomach dropped and she stiffened. That voice. She knew that voice.

"But I'm afraid I can't help you with the other."

The blindfold was pulled down suddenly, leaving her squinting in the dull light. A pair of grey eyes bored into her own, paired with a smirk she knew all too well. Her captor was wearing a black suit with a black dress shirt and a red tie. It was a very formal look considering she appeared to be locked in a dungeon.

His formal attire only made her more nervous. What was he playing at?

"Malfoy!" she seethed. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but I demand that you – "

"Ah ah ah, my dear Granger," he tutted, wagging his finger at her. His hair was parted at the side, hanging slightly in his eyes. "I think you misunderstand. You don't get to demand anything. In fact…"

Her eyes widened as he undid his tie with deliberate slowness, toying with it as his long fingers twisted the fabric around his wrist, snapping it to show its strength. He looked at the tie thoughtfully before returning his eyes to her face.

"In fact," he repeated, running his finger over her cheek, "you don't get to say much of anything."

Before she could respond, Draco stuffed the tie into her mouth, gagging her and stepping behind her once more, out of her line of sight. She winced as he tightened the fabric, whimpering with fear and surprise. Whines and muted cries made their way up her throat as he finished the knot.

"That's not to say you can't make any noise, however. I actually expect to hear a great deal of noise from you tonight."

Her brow furrowed with confusion until she felt his hands reach around her waist and begin to undo the button of her jeans. With a muffled cry she tried to pull away, but felt her restraints tighten the more she moved. Panic. Panic. What the fuck was happening?

"Now now Granger," he purred into her ear. "Don't be a bad girl."

Hermione's breathing skyrocketed as she felt him unzip her fly, and she yelled in protest as he tugged down her jeans to her knees, leaving only her knickers on. His strong hands traveled slowly up her thighs, over her hips, and then to her horror, under her shirt towards her breasts.

"I know you've been feeling stressed lately," he said, nipping her ear and causing her to jump. "I'm going to help you release that stress. This is a favour, Granger. Try not to be ungrateful."

In one quick move, his hands slipped under her bra and cupped her breasts, a low groan rumbling in his mouth. She felt his teeth sink into her neck as his fingers trailed over her nipples, tugging and pinching until she was sore. Another whimper escaped her. There was no getting out of this, was there?

Seemingly unmoved by her humiliation, he reached down to the hem of her shirt and dragged it up her body, taking her bra with it, until her breasts were completely exposed.

Oh my God, she thought, flushed with embarrassment and horror, squeezing her eyes shut. I'm going to die.

"Don't be scared, Granger," he whispered into her ear before biting her shoulder, lighter than before but hard enough to leave marks, she was sure. "I'm going to make you feel better."

His fingers trailed lightly over her stomach.


They slipped under the waistband of her knickers.


They traveled over her triangle of hair and slid, slowly, purposefully, between her lower lips.


His fingers were inside of her. She arched her back and tried to scream, but the muffled sound coming out of her was more like a jumbled oath. Leaning into her as he went deeper, she felt his length pressing against her arse, hard and long.

"You've been so tense lately," he continued, pumping two fingers in and out of her, encountering no resistance other than her squirming because, to her great confusion, she was already wet. "It's not good for your health, you know. Causes more problems than I care to list. You should know better, Granger. I worry."

His free hand tugged her kickers down to join her jeans, and he switched his technique, bringing one hand through her legs from behind to bury his fingers inside of her, and bringing the other around the front to toy with her clit.

Hermione's eyes began to roll back in her head, and she felt her body go slightly limp.

"I know," he purred. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

There was no way she was going to admit that he was right… But sweetholyfuck.

Two fingers worked her cunt persistently, which was now undeniably soaked with arousal, while the fingers on the other hand slid back and forth across her clit, teasing, rubbing, teasing some more. There was a rhythm – pump in and out, teasepump in and out, tease – and eventually - pump tease pump tease pump tease – and finally - pumppumppumppump….

Hermione moaned, unable to keep it in any longer. This was wrong. This was humiliating.

And if he kept going, she was going to fucking explode.

"So I've been thinking, Granger," he said, conversationally as he went back to teasing her clit with irritating slowness. "You seem tightly wound, but I'm willing to bet there's quite an animal inside of you."

Her head was tipped back against his collarbone, and she gurgled something in response as the wet sounds from his fingers echoed around the dark chamber. Draco Malfoy was not supposed to be touching her like this. They worked together in the Magical Law office at the Ministry. They were cordial with one another, and had been for several years. They chatted often, being two of few in the office who spoke sarcasm fluently. As such, they managed to get along without actually being friends. He was handsome, yes, but she had barely spared him a thought when she was with Ron.

Now Ron was gone.

Draco Malfoy was not supposed to be touching her like this.

Pump tease pump tease pump pump pump….

"I'd like to bring that animal out," he said, pressing his length against her a little harder.

She moaned again. Please don't stop.

"I'd like to hear you growl."

Quite suddenly, he pulled his fingers out, and smacked her pussy with his flat hand. She cried, her thighs shaking with unexpected pleasure as her clit hummed happily in response.

What what what what what, she thought, incoherently. Why do I like this? What's happening to me?

"I've been thinking," he said as he smacked her again, her hips bucking forward, his tongue licking from her neck over her jaw and all the way to her temple. "I've been thinking that I want to hear you roar, Granger."

There was a clicking sound. Hermione's hands were free, and dropped abruptly to her sides.

Before she could register her surprise, Draco bent her over and pulled the gag out of her mouth, leaning over and kissing her temple.

"Roar for me," he murmured, placing his tip at her entrance.

As he slid his cock inside of her, she granted his wish.

Hermione stared at the contract in front of her. She had re-read it five times, and still nothing made sense.

Best to try again.

The party in question must adhere to the basic principles of the agreement, whilst consenting to undertake all projects connected to their role as a contractor with or without the guarantee of additional remuneration, with any sub-contracting taken on as a non-billable expense.

"What?" she said out loud. "That can't be right."

"Talking to yourself again, Granger?"

Hermione froze, looking up from her work slowly, knowing with frightening surety who was currently standing in front of her desk. It was the same person who had haunted her dreams the night before, the same person who had fucked her into submission while she begged for more, eventually emptying himself inside of her as she shook from her own climax. The dream was so vivid that she had jolted awake with slippery thighs. It felt real. It felt so real she had taken hours to calm down, to talk herself out of her panic at actually having enjoyed whatever it was he did to her. At having come so hard. At having wanted more... At still wanting more.

She never got back to sleep though, and came into work three hours early. She was only awake now because she had eaten two energy bars and drank five cups of tea.

It was him, except this time she wasn't dreaming. This was real life. He didn't chain her up and fuck her speechless in real life… Right?

"People will start to think you're a bit strange, you know," he smirked.

Ah yes, the invite to banter. Banter was normal for them. They teased each other lightly, never getting too friendly, but never with any real malice, either. The Draco Malfoy she had gotten to know through work was sarcastic, a bit funny, and moderately polite. Now would be the time a normal Hermione Granger would reply with a good-natured zinger.

Instead, she blinked, her eyes focusing on his tie.

It was red.

"Um," she said.

He frowned. "Is that all you've got?" he complained. "I've come to expect a little more than that, Granger."

She stared at his lips, and then licked her own uncomfortably.

"Sorry," she said, hoarsely, throwing in an awkward chuckle as she pushed away the memory of his fingers inside of her. Of him bending her over. Of the sounds she had made when he filled her up. "Didn't sleep well last night. Not on the ball, I'm afraid."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, I suppose you get a pass. Here's the document you wanted yesterday."

"Thanks," she said, weakly.

"No problem. How's the McKenzie contract going?"

"Uh, pretty shite, to be honest. I can't tell if it's badly written or if I'm just too tired to make sense of it."

"I can take it off your hands, if you want."

She thought briefly about his hands. Of what they had done to her. Well, not his hands exactly, but what her subconscious apparently thought his hands might feel like if they were jerking her off.

"I would really appreciate that, Malfoy."

He shrugged and leaned forward, scooping the papers off her desk. "Not a problem. You took that bloody Brinks file from me last month when I was ready to set the thing on fire."

"That was no big deal… I was really familiar with the case," she said. He was smoothing out his tie. He really did have lovely fingers.

Goddamnit, she had to stop thinking about that dream. How did something so completely unbelievable manage to feel like it had really happened? Her pulse was speeding up just by looking at him.

"Well, this makes us even," he smirked. "I'll bring the contract by when I'm done with it. See you 'round, Granger."

She watched him leave and then crossed her legs tightly. Her knickers were ruined.

Two weeks of this? Really?

Hermione scooped the cold cereal into her mouth, chewing slowly. The bottle of pills sat in front of her. She glared at them.

"You ruined my day, you know," she said out loud, well aware that she should probably not trying engage her medication in conversation, but not caring enough to stop. "I was too distracted to work."

The pills said nothing.

"I'm not interested in him, by the way. I mean, he's grown up to be very attractive, granted, but there's too much history there. Plus we work together. We can't possibly be involved."

Silence from the pills.

"It's not like he'd be interested in me anyway."

Dead air.

"Ron was very gentle in bed. He was… He was nothing like that. Besides, Ron only moved out last week." She decided not to add that they had been living like roommates for months beforehand, and that it had been clear for a long time that things weren't going to work out. Saying that out loud wouldn't exactly help her case.

The pills were mocking her.

With a sigh, Hermione stood up and dropped her bowl in the sink, filling up a glass of water while she was there.

She sat back down. "Cheers, I guess."

The pill slid down her throat obediently, and she sighed, walking dejectedly to her bedroom, not at all sure what she was going to dream about tonight.

"Please just let it be a bathtub full of rum," she whispered as she slid between the sheets. "I can manage that, okay? A bathtub full of rum."