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Harry Potter and Draco's Secret Revenge I

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Chapter 1 – Hermione part I: Abduction

Draco was walking back up to the castle with the rest of the Slytherins and the Gryffindors after a deeply satisfying Care of Magical Creatures class – the great clod, Hagrid, had been on the verge of tears through the whole lesson. It had been hysterically funny, and it was all thanks to Draco's father who had frightened the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures into sentencing Hagrid's pet hippogriff Buckbeak to death. The filthy beast deserved it, after attacking Draco and injuring his arm several days ago. If Draco hadn’t leapt out of the way, bumping into Potter in the process, he’d probably be dead.

Draco was accompanied by his trusty goons, Crabbe and Goyle, as always. Behind them, Potter, Weasley, the mudblood and the oaf were traipsing along dejectedly. It was just too delicious! Draco had taken his revenge on the hippogriff, and got Hagrid, Potter, Weasley and Granger all at the same time. Justice had been served. That would teach them to mock him!

Draco kept looking back, just to see their faces. They were so miserable, it was hilarious! When Draco reached the castle he and the goons loitered just inside the doors so they could eavesdrop.

“’S no good, Ron,” said Hagrid sadly as the group reached the castle steps. “That Committee’s in Lucius Malfoy’s pocket. I’m jus’ gonna make sure the rest o’ Beaky’s time is the happiest he’s ever had. I owe him that...”

Hagrid turned round and hurried back towards his cabin, his face buried in his handkerchief.

“Look at him blubber!” Draco exclaimed in delight. “Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic? And he’s supposed to be our teacher!”

Harry and Ron both made furious moves towards him, but Hermione got there first – SMACK!

She had slapped him in the face with all the strength she could muster.

Draco staggered, his nose exploding in agony.

Harry, Ron, Crabbe and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again.

“Don’t you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul loathsome evil little cockroach!” she screamed.

“Hermione!” said Ron weakly, and he grabbed her hand as she swung it back.

“Get off, Ron!”

Denied another punch, Hermione pulled out her wand.

Draco stepped backwards, unable to take his hands from his face. He was completely defenceless! Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered. What did they think he wanted, the morons? They should be defending him! Were they seriously hesitating because Granger was a girl? Unbelievable!

“C’mon,” Draco managed to mumble through the pain, and dashed down the passageway toward the dungeons.

Muffled voices echoed behind him.

“Harry, you’d better beat him in the Quidditch final!” Granger said shrilly. “You just better had, because I can’t stand it if Slytherin win!”

“We’re due in Charms,” said Weasley, and their footsteps faded away.

As Draco made his way down the cold damp corridor, he seethed with fury. Granger would regret what she’d just done to him. She’d struck him! Not only was that outrageous, it bloody hurt! He’d been forced to flee for fear of bursting into tears from the shock and the pain. Of course the nasty bitch would take that as a huge victory, and so would Potter and Weasley. It was beyond galling.

Even if he wanted to, Draco couldn’t let that go. Crabbe and Goyle would lose all respect for him. They’d probably report his humiliation to their parents... who would report it to others. He’d be a laughing stock in the pureblood community, and bring shame upon the Malfoy family name. His father would go berserk if he ever heard about it.

No, Draco had no choice.

Granger was going to have to pay, and her punishment would have to exceed the severity of her crime. She had hurt and humiliated him, so he would need to hurt and humiliate her even more. But how?

What did she care about that he could take from her? Her high grades? But Draco could hardly use that to humiliate her. It would take him years to learn enough to push her into second place, assuming he could actually succeed in that endeavour. Much as he hated to admit it, the mudblood was infuriatingly smart. Not as smart as Draco, of course, but smart enough to make it a depressingly difficult task. Even if he succeeded, depriving her of her top academic standing wasn’t nearly humiliating enough.

Perhaps he could he get her expelled? With his father’s help it might be possible, and it would certainly cause her enormous distress. But it wouldn’t humiliate her. Also, Draco didn’t want to involve his father, because that would require him to confess his shame, and it would imply that he couldn’t deal with one uppity mudblood on his own.

In any case, Granger had physically assaulted him, so really he needed to do the same to her. Yes, it had to be something physical. But again, what? A densaugio hex maybe? That would make her buckteeth even larger. Draco chuckled. Yes, that would be humiliating and physical... and funny, so that was definitely an option. But it felt a bit juvenile – the sort of thing a first or second year would do.

Also, it just didn’t seem severe enough. She’d touched him, after all. A filthy mudblood had touched him! The memory made his skin crawl. How dare she? She clearly didn’t know her place, and elongating her teeth wouldn’t teach her that. Not at all.

Abruptly, Draco realised where his thoughts were taking him. In previous years it never would have occurred to him, but he’d recently gone through puberty, and he’d been as horny as hell for months now. All he could think about most nights was what delights might await him inside a girl’s underwear. Of course none of the Slytherin third-year girls would countenance shagging a boy yet, and the upper-year girls would just laugh in his face. None of the girls in other Houses would let him anywhere near them either, especially not Granger – not in a million years.

But that’s what made it such a delicious revenge. If he imperio’d her she’d have no choice but to do whatever he wanted, despite hating every minute of it. It was absolutely the most humiliating thing he could possibly do to her. She’d be his servant... no, his slave, as she should be! It was a physical punishment to fit a physical crime, and it would certainly teach her to know her place...

The more Draco thought about it, the more he knew it was the perfect punishment. Just as importantly, it was a very simple plan to execute and wouldn’t involve his father at all. Crabbe and Goyle would report it to their parents, who might report it to others, but that would just enhance Draco’s standing among the Death Eaters. During his father’s meetings, when his mother was elsewhere in the Manor, Draco listened at the door and overheard his father and friends sharing raucous stories of their exploits ravishing mudbloods during the last war. His father would be proud of Draco when he heard what his son had done to Granger. Draco’s back straightened as he swelled in pride and anticipation.

His back wasn’t the only thing that was straightening and swelling.

The idea of forcing himself on Granger was giving him a huge erection. His dick was so hard that it was actually quite painful. He needed to scratch this itch as soon as possible. In fact, he was already hugely looking forward to it. He’d wipe that self-satisfied look off Granger’s face and make her regret ever crossing him. His revenge would be so severe that no matter what she did in future, he would always look at her in smug delight. It would be the ultimate victory.

“Right,” Draco declared suddenly, making the goons jump. “I have decided how to punish Granger. I am going to inflict upon her the ultimate humiliation. Come on!”

He span around and sprinted back the way they’d come, heading towards the Charms Classroom.

- § -

“Harry, you’d better beat him in the Quidditch final!” Hermione said shrilly. “You just better had, because I can’t stand it if Slytherin win!”

“We’re due in Charms,” said Ron, still goggling at Hermione. “We’d better go.”

They hurried up the marble staircase towards Professor Flitwick’s classroom.

“You’re late, boys!” said Professor Flitwick reprovingly, as Harry opened the classroom door. “Come along, quickly, wands out, we’re experimenting with Cheering Charms today. We’ve already divided into pairs...”

Harry and Ron hurried to a desk at the back and opened their bags. Ron looked behind him.

“Where’s Hermione gone?”

Harry looked around, too. Hermione hadn’t entered the classroom, yet Harry knew she had been right next to him when he had opened the door.

“That’s weird,” said Harry, staring at Ron. “Maybe – maybe she went to the bathroom or something?”

But Hermione didn’t turn up all lesson.

“She could’ve done with a Cheering Charm on her, too,” said Ron, as the class left for lunch, all grinning broadly – the Cheering Charms had left them with a feeling of great contentment.

Hermione wasn’t at lunch either. By the time they had finished their apple pie, the after-effects of the Cheering Charms were wearing off, and Harry and Ron had started to get slightly worried.

“You don’t think Malfoy did something to her?” Ron said anxiously, as they hurried upstairs towards Gryffindor Tower.

They passed the security trolls, gave the Fat Lady the password (‘Flibbertigibbet’) and scrambled through the portrait hole into the common room. Hermione was sitting at a table, fast asleep, her head resting on an open Arithmancy book. They went to sit down either side of her. Harry prodded her awake.

“Wh-what?” said Hermione, waking with a start, and staring wildly around. “Is it time to go? W-which class have we got now?”

Harry heaved a sigh of relief. Draco hadn’t done anything to Hermione. She was just tired from all her lessons.

- § -

The more Draco thought about his plan, the happier he was. The thought of seeing Granger’s snooty face every day and enduring the smug looks she gave him would drive him insane – he had to do something, and this was perfect.

She thought she’d defeated him, that he’d run away with his tail between his legs – that he was so pathetic that he’d never even attempt to get back at her. It was intolerable, and fanned the flames of the fire in his trousers. She thought she’d stripped him of his dignity. Well, he was going to return the favour! In fact, if his observations were accurate, he was going to take much more than that. Judging by the way she interacted with boys in general, Draco was almost certain that she was still a virgin.

As they ran headlong through the deserted corridors, his plans for what he’d do to her became increasingly elaborate. He rationalised each additional act of vengeance by recalling more of what she’d done when she struck him. She’d been about to hit him again, for example, when he was already helpless – she would have done so if Weasley hadn’t stopped her. That was worthy of extra punishment, as was the fact the Weasley had saved him, of all people. She’d also drawn her wand on a defenceless wizard. Merlin knows what she’d have done if Draco hadn’t made a run for it. Her malign intent merited a penance of some sort, as did the ignominy of his forced retreat.

The more he thought about it, the more severe her crimes were revealed to be. Unfortunately, the more convoluted his plans became, the more horny he got when he thought about them. That drove him to new heights of anger, sexual frustration, and unfulfilled desire.

He caught up with Potter, Weasley and Granger just as they turned the corner towards the Charms classroom.

“Wait here!” he whispered to Crabbe and Goyle.

He poked his head round the corner. Potter and Weasley were about to enter the classroom. Granger was just behind them.

He was too late! Damn it! He’d have to get her some other time. He almost screamed in frustration.

But then a miracle happened. She turned around! Of her own accord, she turned around and ran back towards him! Draco frantically waved the goons back against the wall, and ducked back round the corner to await her arrival. He had no idea what had prompted her to return (maybe she forgot a book or something) but he wasn’t going to look a gift-horse in the mouth.

He stood, wand at the ready, and waited.

The moment she rounded the corner he hit her square in the chest with an, “Imperio!”

Draco’s father had begun teaching him the Unforgivables over the summer. Unfortunately for Granger, Draco had mastered one of them already. She came to a complete stop, staring blankly into space.

A curious sensation shot down his arm, a feeling of tingling warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast. He felt Granger’s presence at the edge of his mind – the tell-tale sign that the curse had worked.

“You two,” he ordered the goons, “go find a disused classroom! Somewhere nobody will interrupt us.”

As they sprinted away, Draco regarded the girl intently. He’d never really considered it, but for a mudblood she was actually quite pretty. She was wearing the regulation school uniform for witches – flat functional black shoes, a grey pleated shirt, grey sweater, white blouse (buttoned all the way up) and a neatly presented tie, all trimmed in Gryffindor colours. It wasn’t the most flattering outfit, but she looked quite fetching in it – surprisingly feminine actually, in a straight-laced sort of way. Of course it was her goody-goody prudish attitude that made what lay ahead so sweet for Draco. He was very much looking forward to cracking that Victorian facade.

He shook himself. This was no time for such thoughts. He wasn’t safe standing out in the open with an imperio’d Gryffindor. Assuming she was imperio’d, of course. Was she faking? Could she throw it off? He wouldn’t put it past her.

Show me your knickers,’ he instructed her mentally.

If she could throw off the curse, that order would definitely prompt her to do it.

Without hesitation, Granger lifted her grey knee-length skirt to reveal a pair of white cotton knickers. They were quite plain, apart from a tiny pink bow on the waist at the front. They were still massively sexy though, framed as they were by the soft white skin of her thighs and belly. Draco’s throat had gone mysteriously dry. He licked his lips and swallowed heavily.

Draco still wasn’t convinced though. Maybe she was really committed to lulling him into a false sense of security? Maybe she was quite kinky and got off on this sort of thing, so wasn’t as bothered as he thought she’d be?

Kiss me,’ he ordered. That should do it! No way in hell would Granger willingly kiss him, no matter how determined she might be. He held his wand at the ready, watching for any sign that she was faltering.

Looking quite content, Granger leaned forwards, looking straight up at him with her chocolate-brown eyes...

How had he never noticed how amazingly brown her eyes were? Not a single fleck or imperfection marred their deep cocoa hue. They were perfect brown rings around dark black wells... He felt suddenly light-headed, as if he were in danger of falling... falling... falling... into those endless shadowy pools...

But then she kissed him full on the lips.

Draco was yanked instantly out of his daze. He starred at Granger in shock as her soft lips pressed wondrously against his own.

Stop!’ he snapped as he heard footsteps approaching. She immediately pulled away, entirely unconcerned.

To his enormous relief, it was only Crabbe and Goyle. They stopped in their tracks at the sight of Granger still flashing her knickers. She let her skirt drop at Draco’s silent command.

“Have you found a suitable classroom?” he demanded of the goons.

“Yes not far,” Goyle replied, “up on the fourth floor.”

“Lead on,” he told them.

Draco followed the lumbering idiots to the nearest staircase, with Granger following obediently behind. After glancing round the corner to check nobody was there, they all rushed up the stairs to the fourth floor. Goyle lead them down one corridor, turned left down a dustier one, then right into one that Draco had never seen before. It was a dead-end and looked like it hadn’t been used for decades – dust lay thick and smooth on the ground, unmarred by even a single footprint. There were classrooms on both sides, but they were clearly not in use.

Draco strode past Goyle and selected the furthest classroom on the right. The door emitted the slightest of rusty squeaks as he opened it, but was otherwise mercifully quiet. He waived Crabbe and Goyle inside.

‘Can you remove our footprints from the dust?’ he asked Granger.

Hermione drew her wand and pointed it at the floor.

Oblitero!” she intoned calmly, waving her wand along the corridor. Flattened dust billowed out of their footprints in tiny dancing clouds, and then settled back to form a single undisturbed sheet of dust across the corridor once more.

“Brilliant,” Draco whispered. “You’re a clever little mudblood aren’t you?”

The helpless Gryffindor smiled dreamily.

Inside they found a large and airy space, if a little stale. Desks were piled high in the shadowy far corner. The rest of the room was empty apart from a professor’s desk at the front. Bizarrely, there wasn’t a single speck of dust anywhere in the room. It was absolutely spotless. Draco frowned, but quickly banished the mystery from his mind. He had more important things to think about.

“Okay,” Draco declared. “We better get started before somebody comes looking for her. I reckon we have about an hour while everyone’s in class, then maybe one more hour during lunch, before Potter comes looking for her. Let’s call it ninety minutes to be safe. That’s not much, but it’ll have to do. You two, go stand by the door. Feel free to watch, but keep your ears peeled for any noises outside.”

Granger stood impassively, wholly unconcerned by his words. Draco circled the girl, taking a good long look at her. She really was quite attractive. How had he never noticed that before? Because she was a mudblood, of course – she was beneath his notice, a mere irritant. But now that he looked at her, he had to admit that she was very pleasing on the eye... for a mudblood. She didn’t have the breeding or poise of a truly beautiful pureblood like that stuck-up cow Daphne Greengrass, but Granger would certainly do for a bit of ‘fun’.

The Gryffindor girl’s bushy hair had been partially tamed by a braid above each ear which she’d tied together at the back. It was quite a fetching look, actually, and Draco heartily approved. She had soft-looking golden-brown cheeks, full lips and quite a large mouth. No wonder she was so gobby and loud all the time, he mused, with a mouth like that. Her front teeth were still slightly too large, but she’d grown into them over the last two years so they didn’t look too bad any more.

At his command, she removed the heavy and overloaded book-bag from her shoulder and placed it on the floor. Her cloak-like outer robe soon joined it. Now he could get a better look at her. She had a very slim figure, with nice hips, a small waist, round bum and discernible mounds stretching her jumper, suggesting a decent set of breasts hidden beneath.

Strip,’ he ordered her.

Without hesitation, Granger began undressing. She pulled each arm in turn out of her sweater and lifted it off over her head. It fell to the floor, instantly forgotten. Draco now had a much better view of her chest. There was definitely a nice pair of tits under there, but they were still well-concealed by her loose shirt. A swift yank on her tie pulled it loose enough to lift off and it fell to the floor. With barely a pause, she began unfastening the buttons on her blouse. Draco was tempted to tell her to slow down so he could savour the experience, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was suddenly very hungry to see what was under those clothes. Something stirred in his trousers.

By the third button Draco got his first view of her bra. It looked like a plain white cotton affair, with a small pink bow to match her knickers. She had a beauty spot on her left breast, he noticed. A shiver of excitement ran through him as her hands worked lower, revealing more of her chest and wonderfully flat stomach.

She pulled the blouse free of her skirt and let it fall from her arms to land on the floor behind her. Draco hardly noticed. Her bra and otherwise-naked upper torso had his full attention. Merlin, it was glorious! Granger had been hiding a very curvy figure under her shapeless school uniform, and was blessed with soft-looking pale tanned skin, which he hungered desperately to touch. But he resisted. He wanted to see everything first. The strange egg-timer-like necklace she was wearing barely registered. There were much more interesting things to look at.

She had a couple of minor imperfections, he observed, now that he was close enough to see. But they didn’t detract from her beauty at all. Her slim and toned legs had almost no blemishes, but she had two tiny moles on the left side of her chin, a beauty spot under her lower lip on the left, and two more above her lip on the right. There were faint freckles across her nose and upper cheekbones, but she seemed to have attempted to cover them with some sort of muggle make-up. There was another beauty spot on her left collar bone and a tiny one on her left shoulder. Each arm possessed five or six freckles, and her stomach sported a couple of small pale birthmarks just below and to the left of her navel. The largest imperfection was on the inside of her left forearm – a curiously shaped scar about the size of a snitch. Was it a burn from a potions accident perhaps?

Somehow these tiny blemishes made her more individual, more real, and that enhanced Draco’s anticipation of the punishment he had planned for her. She may be a mudblood, but she was a person, and Draco was about to defile her. He found the prospect intoxicating.

Granger was already reaching behind to unfasten her bra. Draco’s breath caught in his throat. The goons stepped forward for a closer look. He snapped a glare at them and they returned to the door looking chastised. The bra was released and fell loose. She immediately pulled it forwards and let it drop to her feet.

Stop,’ he instructed. ‘Give us a twirl.

With her hands on her hips, Granger turned slowly on the spot, giving all three boys a grandstand view of her fabulously perky breasts. Draco had never seen anything so magnificent in his whole life. They were each about the size of a half orange, he reckoned, with a very slight tear-drop shape. She had a distinct cleavage too, with her breasts standing a good few centimetres apart and pointing slightly away from each other. Draco wondered how they’d look if he removed that stupid necklace and pressed them together.

He was very glad to see that she had discernible tan lines, where she’d obviously worn a muggle bikini in the sun on some foreign holiday. A white triangle of un-tanned skin covered most of each breast. Draco suspected he was the first boy who’d ever seen her bare tits... plus Crabbe and Goyle of course. He chuckled at the thought of what her reaction would be to that news.

The outer rings of her pleasingly pink nipples – the ‘areolas’ Draco thought they were called – were about the size of a Galleon, which Draco found amazing. They were much larger than any boys’ he’d ever seen, despite her relatively slight frame and small stature. For some reason, that turned him on enormously. The stress of their clandestine flight through the school had reduced the pressure in his trousers, but his nascent erection pulsed rapidly to a full-scale hard-on once again. He had to adjust his trousers to make it less uncomfortable, and noticed the goons doing the same thing.

As the girl before him turned, he noted that her nipples were also much larger than a boy’s. For some reason he was overcome with the desire to lick them. Again, he resisted. There were other visual delights ahead first. But he promised himself that he would lick those nipples, and nibble them, and cup her breasts in his hands... savouring every soft fleshy detail. The intimacy of those acts, and the fact that he’d be doing them against Granger’s wishes, made his cock pulse with excitement.

Amusingly, he observed that Granger’s right boob was noticeably larger than the left one. Granger was probably quite self-conscious about that, so Draco was delighted to have discovered it, but it honestly didn’t subtract from her appeal at all.

With her rotation complete, Granger resumed undressing. She removed both shoes and then both socks. Her feet were delicate and nicely shaped. Draco had never been interested in feet before, but Granger’s were really quite pretty – petite and feminine. Her second toe was slightly longer than her big toe, which was odd but gave them a rather childish look, as if she were younger than her fifteen years. Did all teenage girls have toes like that, he wondered, or just mudblood girls, or perhaps just Granger? Would she grow out of it? He had no idea.

He was surprised to see that her toenails were painted bright pink. Her fingernails were unadorned of course, in accordance with school rules on a weekday, so was this a little hint of rebellious individuality? Perhaps there was more depth to her personality than he’d realised. Under that bookish exterior was she hiding a wild streak?

He snapped his gaze back up, because she was already reaching behind to unbutton and unzip her skirt. Quicker than he’d expected, the skirt fell to her ankles. She stepped out of it while Draco’s eyes surveyed every inch of her gorgeous legs and the mound in her knickers.

Stop,’ he instructed again. ‘Give us another twirl.

This time she held her arms out to the side to give them a better view of her body, and slowly turned on the spot. The way her hips curved down towards her slim legs turned him on enormously, as did the significant gap between her legs where they met her body. Draco knew from seeing girls in trousers that not everyone was like that. He heartily approved, as it would provide much easier access to the delights within. Draco caught sight of another intimate detail – a beauty spot just below the panty-line on her left inner thigh.

Those thoughts fled his mind once her bum came into view though. It was fabulously proportioned. Draco couldn’t wait to see it without knickers covering the most interesting bits, and licked his lips hungrily. How would it feel to grab those butt cheeks and squeeze, he wondered?

Over by the door, Crabbe and Goyle had both thrust their hands down their trousers. Draco gagged.

Ugh! The thought of those two jerking off while he tried to savour Granger’s delicious body turned his stomach.

“Out!” he screamed at them. “Both of you, OUT!

“But Draco...” Goyle objected.

“No! You’ve seen plenty. That’s all you get. You can find your own mudblood to play with! Now stand guard outside while I have some fun with this one.”

Crabbe and Goyle slouched out through the door, grumbling unhappily. Granger watched them go impassively. Her expression betrayed no emotion whatsoever. Draco smiled. Her passivity delighted him. It made a very pleasant change from her usual demeanour, and underscored the complete control he had over her.

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