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May We Live In Interesting Times Chapter 14
🕑 Added 2024-10-21 14:45:43 +0000 UTCThe Invisibility Cloak was surprisingly roomy, Hermione thought, as she moved through the quiet corridors of the castle. Maybe it was because she was alone under its shimmering folds this time, unlike the cramped adventures she’d shared with Harry and Ron. With only herself to conceal, the cloak seemed to flow more freely around her, granting her a greater ease of movement. She took full advantage, stepping quickly, silently, her pace brisk as she wound her way through the familiar moving staircases and dimly lit halls.
The castle was asleep. Portraits snored softly in their frames, the occasional flicker of torchlight casting elongated shadows on the stone walls.
Hermione pressed herself against the cold stone wall, her breath shallow as she clutched the edges of the Invisibility Cloak tighter around her. The silence of the castle at night was absolute, broken only by the faint shuffling of her feet and the occasional creaking of a moving staircase. Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom was just ahead, its doorway looming dark and ominous under the dim moonlight filtering through the narrow windows.
As she turned the final corner, she heard it—a sound that made her freeze in place.
Footsteps.
Hermione peered around the edge of the corridor, her heart quickening as the figure came into view. Draco Malfoy. He moved with the same air of arrogance that always surrounded him, but there was something different about his gait tonight—something off. His steps were uneven, almost staggering, and his face, illuminated briefly by the flickering torchlight, was pale and drawn. There was no sneer, no haughty lift to his chin. Instead, his expression was... haunted.
Of course. Hermione’s mind raced. Draco had always been on her list of suspects, but even now, something about his presence here felt too... simple. Too obvious.
The simplest solution is always the most obvious
The sentiment had always bothered Hermione—wasn’t life more complex than that? Weren’t people more nuanced? But now, watching Draco slip into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of that familiar logic pressing down on her.
Still, there was no thrill in the discovery. She had expected more from this mystery, something grander, something darker, and yet here was Malfoy, playing right into the role of the villain once again, this new school year as though scripted for it.
Hermione hurried forward, her footfalls silent beneath the Cloak, just managing to slip through the door before it closed with a soft click. Inside, the bathroom was as dreary as ever, its mirrors streaked with grime, the tiles worn and cracked. The constant dripping of water echoed in the gloom, but Hermione’s eyes were fixed on Malfoy.
He stood near the sinks, his hand raised to the nearest pipe, tracing its surface with fingers. Then did the most astonishing thing.
He hissed.
Parseltongue. The same unsettling language Harry had spoken to snakes with back in their second year, something rare and feared, a language tied to the darkest wizards in history.
Draco Malfoy was a Parselmouth.
But how?
This was wrong. He certainly hadn’t been one in second year when the Chamber had been opened the first time—she would have known, hell the entire school would.
Finally, she thought, her heart quickening. This was a real puzzle.
Just like that, the frustration she had felt earlier—the thought that this was too simple, that Malfoy was just the same as he always was—melted away, replaced by the electric thrill of something deeper, something far more unexpected.
A proper mystery.
Malfoy seemed to hesitate for just a second at the edge of the tunnel, casting a glance over his shoulder before he disappeared into the darkness below.
Hermione waited a heartbeat, then two. The soft echoes of Malfoy’s descent fading into silence, leaving only the steady drip of water from the leaky taps. Her mind raced, calculating, analyzing the possibilities. This was the Chamber of Secrets. The Chamber. And Malfoy... Malfoy, of all people, had access to it.
With her heart pounding, Hermione stepped toward the sinks, her hand brushing lightly over the cool, grimy porcelain as she peered into the tunnel. It gaped before her, dark and foreboding.
A warning for a normal person to rethink this course of action.
Not Hermione Granger though.
While a small part of her hesitated, the memory of what happened the last time—of the Basilisk, of Tom Riddle, of death—hovering at the edge of her thoughts.
But the thrill, the need to understand, pushed her forward.
With a final, sharp intake of breath, Hermione steeled herself and, tightening the cloak around her, slipped into the tunnel.
When her feet finally hit solid ground, it took all she had not to fall. She straightened, dusting off her dress, making sure she was properly cloaked before moving on.
The air was cool, damp, and carried a faint, musty odor that she couldn’t quite place—until her foot brushed against something soft, yet brittle. She froze. Her eyes flicked downward, and there, lying in long, pale strands, was unmistakable evidence: the remains of shed snake skin.
She gulped, her throat tightening involuntarily as her mind registered the size.
She pressed forward.
The tunnel eventually opened up into a wide, echoing chamber. The darkness receded just enough to reveal Draco, crouched in the center, his figure silhouetted against the faint light. His back was to her, his head bowed as if in thought or prayer, and for a brief moment, Hermione paused, observing him. She had come here expecting to find Malfoy, yes, but this felt… different. Wrong, somehow.
It was then that she saw it.
The massive, coiled form of the Basilisk, its body sprawled along the far end of the chamber, long dead but still grotesquely imposing. Its dull, lifeless eyes were half-clawed, its mouth agape. Even in death, the creature seemed to look so intimidating.
Out of fear, Hermione stepped back, her body reacting before her mind could catch up, and in doing so—
Krkkk.
Her foot struck a loose stone.
The sound echoed through the chamber, a sharp crack that seemed to slice through the heavy silence like a knife. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat, her heart thudding wildly as she froze in place.
“Who’s there?” Draco’s voice, sharp and strained, rang out. His head snapped up, his body tense as he scanned the room, searching for the source of the noise.
Hermione clutched the edges of the Invisibility Cloak tighter, her body pressed against the cold stone wall, willing herself to disappear entirely. She dared not move, dared not breathe, as she watched Draco’s eyes sweep dangerously close to her hiding spot.
For what felt like an eternity, he stood there, poised, listening, his eyes flickering in the dim light. Then, slowly, his shoulders relaxed. He turned away.
She allowed herself a slow, quiet exhale. Relief washed over her, but it was short-lived.
"Expelliarmus!"
Draco’s voice was sudden, and the spell hit its mark before Hermione had time to react. A gust of wind swept through the chamber, and before she could blink, the shimmering folds of the Invisibility Cloak were yanked away, spiraling into the air.
____________________________________
There she was: Hermione Granger, caught out of her element. Her wide eyes, sharp and observant under normal circumstances, were filled with confusion and fear. Her hair, usually restrained in tight curls, seemed to fray and lift like a storm was gathering inside her. It gave her a disheveled look, like a brilliant mind suddenly thrown off-balance. The dim light of the chamber glinted off her pupils, amplifying the shock in her brown eyes.
She took a tentative step back, her hand instinctively reaching for her wand. One step, then another, her breath coming faster now.
“H-how did you—” Her voice was uneven, clearly panicked at being caught. “Apparition… it shouldn’t be possible inside Hogwarts.”
I almost chuckled. Of all the things to say, trust Granger to focus on the mechanics of magic. Always the puzzle-solver, even in the grip of danger.
The better question however was how did she remain undetected to me? I should have…would have sensed her coming the moment she was within range, so why hadn’t I?
“But we aren’t inside Hogwarts proper, love,” I replied her smoothly, voice sweet as sugar. Saccharine, to my ears.
Hermione instead flinched at the such sugary tone from along with the endearment.
I don’t think it had fully dawned on her that she was down here alone with Draco Malfoy.
No teachers, no friends, no Harry Potter to save the day.
Just her, Draco Malfoy and the chamber of secrets.
At least I thought so until, like lightning, she bolted, trying to get around me and back out towards the slide.
Smart beaver.
She was fast, but not fast enough. My hand shot out and seized her wrist before she even got close to the exit. She twisted in his grip, but he was ready, too strong, too focused. With a sharp yank, I pulled her back, spinning her until her chest collided with the cold, unforgiving stone wall of the chamber. Her wand clattered to the ground as I wrenched her arm behind her back, pinning her in place.
"Going somewhere?" I asked, whispering into her ear.
Her pulse was wild, thudding erratically beneath my fingers as I kept her wrist pinned. Her chest rose and fell with shallow, panicked breaths. For a moment, I could feel the heat of her skin, could hear the tremor in her breathing—she was terrified, but trying to control it. That familiar Gryffindor bravery trying to claw its way out, but it was buried under the weight of her panic.
"Wait... wait, Malfoy, please!" Her voice was a rush, the panic now breaking through. She squirmed against his hold, but he held her firm, keeping her pressed against the stone. "I won’t say anything! I promise, I won’t!"
I tilted his head slightly, his grip on her wrist tightening just enough to draw a gasp from her lips. "Say anything about what?"
She froze, her body going rigid as if the wrong answer would somehow make this worse. "I—please.”
“Certainly not about how you caught Draco Malfoy in the Chamber of Secrets,” I said, my voice dripping with mockery. “And certainly not to your friends. Ronald Weasley. Harry Potter.”
“You must think me a fool, Granger”
“Well you are clearly smart enough to know that you are in a load of trouble. Let me go you’re hurting me.” She retorted, quickly dropping the act and immediately resumed struggling.
"Careful now," I warned, pressing up against her back. Pinning her struggles to the wall. My voice remained calm, concealing the turmoil brewing inside me. Truth was, she was right—Granger had me backed into a corner. Her friends would be all over this by morning, and if she slipped out of my grasp now, I’d be standing in front of McGonagall by sunrise.
And that wasn't an option.
I held her pinned against the stone, her pulse fluttering beneath my fingers like a caged bird. My mind raced, running through every option.
But killing her was out of the question, and as much as I hated to admit it, I didn’t have the skill to use memory charms on her. Even a simple Obliviate could go wrong. I wasn’t some master of mind magic—I
I needed time. Time to think. Time to maneu- I stilled suddenly caught in the unexpected softness of of what my nose perceived.
Lavender.
Hermione Granger, of all people, smelled of something as delicate as lavender.
The lust creature that I had become starting reacting, quickly overcoming my wizardly nature. Tantric energy quickly began emanating from me as my body started responding to her pheromones. My cock quickly engorging, fulling with blood and unfurling like a snake in my trouser pressing up agains-
Soft
She stiffened at the contact, immediately stopping her struggles. I could practically taste the tension now thrumming through the air as she stood, shocked and trapped between him, his cock and the wall. For a brief, surreal moment, they were both still, as though neither of them dared to move, to acknowledge the shifting dynamic that hung in the air like a thick fog.
Was that her ass
I looked down immediately to verify what I was feeling.
And was welcome to the side of my bulge separating Hermione’s considerable ass meat. Its shape visible even through the dress she wore.
____________________________________
Hermione twisted her neck to look back at Draco. Catching his pupils zooming to. She tracked their sight path to her ass. Her rosy cheeks grew rosier.
He’s looking at me… like that?
He didn’t even have the decency to be embarrassed about it. Leering at her arse with no shame. His lack of shame about it was embarrassing to her and quickly a smarting of pink dusted her cheeks.
Idiot
Still the idea that Draco Malfoy of all people was stricken by her arse despite his well known opinion on “mudbloods.”
It was funny and more than a little empowering and so she was determined to use that to escape.
So she backed up, intending to suffocate the hard bulge she felt with her ass cheeks when her cheeks kept getting forced more and more apart by the hot throbbing bulge she felt.
Merlin!! His cock ♡ ♡ ♡
Hermione had never really thought of Malfoy’s cock before but from his attitude, she would say that he had always given off little dick energy.
However little was not an adjective that could describe what he was packing, she thought, arching and rubbing against it, shimmying her hips.
“What…what are you doing!?” He said grunting as one of his hands left her wrist to hold her waist.
That allowed her to bunch her night wear around her hips, pulling it up all the way, leaving the bouncy softness of her arse on total display.
Without the obstruction of garments, his cheeks flew out wider and bounced even further and she felt her panties slowly disappearing into her gleaming bubble butt cheeks, tickling against her asshole
But at this charged moment, right now, she couldn’t care less.
As she pretty much twerked, enveloping his meaty cock between her ass meat, his cock was beautifully hotdogged between her bouncing cheeks. She could feel its warmth, feel it throbbing increasingly as it pushed against her soft and sensitive pussy lips, rubbing with a steady up and down rhythm
And so she increased her tempo.
Whap! Whap! Whap!
Going faster and faster
___________________________________
I was being dry humped with soft warm assmeat. My cock stroked up and down with the asscheeks of Miss know it all.
Hermione Granger—of brilliant intellect—But here, in this moment, the façade shattered as lust took over. Her lips trembled as she bit down, her breath catching with each movement. She moved against me, her body swaying in a rhythm I’d never imagined she was capable of.
There was a tension in the air, an unspoken contradiction. The girl who had always seemed a teacher’s pet now twerked up a story with a wild, reckless abandon. Her ass shook, fingers tightening with each roll of her hips, as if grounding herself to reality while she danced on the edge of something forbidden.
It was a stark contrast—the Hermione everyone knew, and the one now shuddering with the same vulnerability and desire she’d once buried beneath layers of knowledge and certainty.
The dichotomy between who she had always presented herself and her actions now was one of the hottest experiences of my life.
She turned looking back at me, with half lidded eyes, a blushed cheek and pouty lips and that was it. I came undone.
Shuddering as my urethra dilated and contracted in turn sending ropes of pearly white cum spilling into my trousers, wetting its front.
Exhaustion took over.
I leaned forward instinctively, pressing my forehead against her back, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing beneath me, letting the closeness of her body ground me. Each exhale slowly brought me back from the edge, the frantic beat of my heart gradually calming as I held onto her, just long enough to regain control.
The silence between us thickened, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on me. And then, finally, when my breathing steadied, and I felt okay enough to speak, I whispered to her ear,
“We are gonna make an Unbreakable Vow.”
