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Week One: Wiggenweld Potion
“Merlin, Granger. Get a grip, you’re practically quivering in your shoes,” Draco said, barely throwing her a glance, as he cut the flobberworms.
Hermoine gulped. “I’m sorry.” She winced at her words. “What should I do?”
He pointed the scalpel towards some vials with various ingredients. “Grind those up.”
“How fine?” She asked, reaching for the mortar and pestle.
Draco shrugged. “Till it feels right?”
Hermione asked, “Well, what does the textbook say?” At his silence, she began reaching for it. “I want to do it right.”
“It doesn’t say,” Draco said, pushing the textbook out of her reach. “Just work off instinct.”
“Instinct?” She replied. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me just see for myself.”
Hermione reached for it on her tippy toes, now leaning over the entire desk.
Draco pushed it to the very edge, just out of her grasp.
“No. Now, leave me alone,.” He said, focusing back on the worms. “We need to finish this by dinner.”
“Must you be so difficult?” She groaned, leaning back.
“You know nothing about difficulty,” he muttered. Then louder for her to hear, “Just grind them down to a fine powder so we can make the paste.”
Hermione only now sniffed the air as she grinded the ingredients; certain behaviors had become natural to her since her designation. She expected the bitter smell of wiggentree bark to hit her nose, but instead the scent of him lingered. It was so thick; she could taste the sickly-sweet honey coax her throat.
It teased her, begging her tongue to roll out three silly words.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Draco stiffen slightly.
Despite her many suppressants, Hermione felt the twinge of need throb between her thighs. She squeezed her legs together, in a futile attempt to keep the scent of her arousal from escaping.
She concentrated back on grinding, now ignoring his presence all together.
X
“There,” Hermione said, pushing the mortar and pestle away. “They’re all ground up.”
Draco glanced up, not chopping herbs. “Pour a few drops of sloth brain slime and a few drops of salamander blood into it.”
“Have you made this before?” She asked, doing as told, noting he hadn’t looked at his textbook once. She held back a slight gag, tipping the vial of the slime, mixing it with ground up powder.
“Once, over the summer.” At her questioning eye, he added with an indifferent shrug: “I was bored.”
X
“You’re not mixing it right,” he complained, moving her hand off of the mixer. “It’s a steady pace, circular clockwise motion.”
“Fine.” She huffed, “You do it, then.”
Malfoy sent her a glare. “Cut the moly. We need it for the next part.”
The moly was a smelly garlic-like root. It kept turning as Hermione tried to cut it into small pieces.
The knife slipped and nicked her finger. She watched the slightest droplet of blood drip onto the desk.
It really wasn’t a big deal to Hermione as she quickly sucked on her finger to prevent anymore.
She heard the faintest sniff, and then Draco snapped his attention to her immediately.
“Did you just cut yourself?” He asked with the slightest hint of demand. It was so carefully placed - trained, practically unnoticeable to a beta, but she felt it.
She released her fingers from her mouth. Giving into the gentle pull of her tongue, she let the thoughts flow into careless words, “It’s not so bad. A small little thing.”
He dramatically tucked his nose into his elbow, peering over his arm with narrow eyes.
“Does my blood bother you that badly?” She sneered at his antics.
“No, it's just…a lot.” He choked out (muffled still under his arm), motioning towards her.
“Oh,” My scent. “I didn’t realize-”
“That I could smell, sense every little thing happening in this room? Well, I can.” He snipped, then waved his wand with a silent healing spell. He dropped his arm and sniffed the air testingly.
Every little thing? Hermione winced, but relaxed as she saw the cut heal, leaving a slight shimmer of magic.
Hermione felt herself shrink. Of course she knew alphas had heightened senses mirroring her own (some journals citing more , but Hermione wagered it was misogyny), but never had any alpha reacted like… this. Like it was repulsive.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
“It was for my benefit not yours,” he grumbled. “Hurry up and finish. I have things to do.”
Hermione softly snorted, “Like what?”
He spent nearly as much time in the library as herself, on the opposite side of the library, but the mirroring table. Always taking notes- book after book. It was never a competition, but sometimes Hermione played a one- sided game with him. How many books is he going to grab? Who could finish their book first?
“Do you really think I’m going to tell you?” Draco said, pulling her out of her thoughts.
At her silence, he added: “Itching to go run and tell Potty all my little secrets?” He taunted, inching closer. There was only an arm’s length of space between them, and she felt his cologne nip at her nose, dueling with the honey aroma that seemed to follow his every move.
Hermoine shrugged. “I always see you in the library is all.”
“Harry is convinced you’re a death eater.” She met his eye. “Care to prove him wrong for me?”
His eyes flickered for a moment then he replied, “I’ll see you next week.”
And just like that, he vanished. The only reminder being the faintest waft of honey as Hermoine bottled the potion.
X
Week Two: Boil Cure Potion
“You’re in an extra pissy mood today, Malfoy,” Hermoine remarked primly, while cutting some mangrove root.
Draco ignored her and continued to grind up the snake fangs. The recipe called for nearly a whole vial.
“That needs to be an extra fine powder,” she pointed out. “We can use a spell I found.”
He continued to ignore her, focusing only on his task. She saw the faintest glow of sweat dance along his forehead.
Hermione blushed, deciding to continue. “Last week, I woke up and my shoulder was insanely sore. I assume it was due to all that er, grinding I did. I found this one in an old chef's journal in the library,” she said shyly.
He, finally, glanced up. His eyes with just a hint of a haze, otherwise completely uninterested. “No, thanks,” Draco said evenly.
“It’s an easy spell,” she said in hopes of persuading him. “It seemed like it hadn’t been opened in years.”
“Will it get you to stop pestering me?” he said, sighing.
Hermione smiled. “Even better, maybe we’ll get out of here quicker.”
“Fine,” he replied, his wand now in his hand. “How do I do it?”
“Oh, I can do it,” she said. Hermione moved to his side of the desk. “It’s quite a tricky spell.”
Draco put his hand in front of her wand. “I’m not one of your little trolls that keep tugging on your skirt, asking you to do everything. Just tell me how.”
“Oh, right. You just-” Hermione swished her wand into a spiraling swirl. “ Puluerem Mineralis . Make sure and emphasize the ‘lu,’” she said looking up.
Draco watched her intently, mouthing the words as she said them.
Then recited the spell outloud mimicking her wand motion over the fangs.
“It worked,” he replied, slowly meeting her eye. “5 points to Granger.”
“Don’t you mean to Gryffindor?” She said laughing.
“No.”
X
“Granger, if you keep staring over my shoulder I’m going to walk out,” Draco said, sneering.
Hermione took a half step back. “I just want to make sure you’re doing it right,” she muttered.
“Must I remind you, I’m not the dim-witted company you keep around you,” he retorted. “Go do anything else.”
X
Hermoine watched as Malfoy summoned a cauldron, and poured in a basic base (snail slime and moonlight water).
“What do you think you're doing?”
Draco glanced up, then back to his potion. “It doesn’t concern you.”
Hermione squinted. “Doesn’t concern me?”
She waved her wand, summoning the vials of ingredients to her side of the desk. She glared at him. “Snape counts every single little one of these, down to the last fang. I won’t get punished for something so idiotic.”
“If he asks, I’ll say you cut the flobberworms till they were minced mush.” He gave her a pointed look. “Once I tell him that, he’ll just assume the rest was a mishap on your part.”
Hermione gawked at him, “Excuse me? It was one time,; withto only one worm. I was distracted.”
Draco shrugged his shoulders.
“I won’t take the fall for this.” Hermione grabbed her wand. “I’m not above saving a memory.”
“I’ll only use the scraps, is that better?” He tried, sighing.
“What are you brewing?”
“It's a dreamless sleep potion,” Malfoy replied, quietly.
Hermione felt herself step down off her soap box, folding into herself.
“You can use the scraps;, write off any herbs you use as being too dry,” she said finally.
“If by chance it comes up,” Draco said, chopping up the butterfly wings. “I would take all the blame.”
X
Week 3: Memory Potion
“We need female jobberknoll feathers,” Draco stated, setting down the vial in front of him.
Hermione internally fought back a groan;, her mind had been in a state of autopilot in recent days. She felt the edges of her mind begin to unravel, slowly fading into a haze.
“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I’ll go get the right one.”
Hermone reached for the vial, but Draco swiped it up.
“I wasn’t telling you to get it,” he said, only now looking at her. “Start boiling the salamander blood and willow sap.”
Hermione only nodded, as he intently stared at her.
Suddenly, Draco’s eyes snapped to hers. “Why do you look different?”
“Different how?” She asked, taken back.
She hadn’t done anything with her appearance had she? Maybe it was her hair being up, she had been getting quite a few stares.
Draco looked down at her body once more.
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. He sniffed the air, “Your scent too.”
“What does it smell like to you?” She whispered, softly glancing at him.
“Usually it’s more of a vanilla, sugar scent, but today,” he met her eye. “You smell like a mint.”
“Hmm, that’s interesting,” Hermione replied, trying to keep her voice neutral. She opened up her planner and gleaned at nothing. “I don’t think my current suppressants are working at optimal effectiveness.”
Draco didn’t say anything.
“I should also mention, since we’re on the topic- I won’t be here two weeks from now. I know we’re supposed to start on the potion for Sprout that week, so I can try and do prep,” she wondered aloud. Hermione flipped the page on her planner.
“We’re doing a Gillyweed Exlir,” Hermoine said, confirming to herself mostly as Draco was still silent, unmoving.
“I can definitely dry and grind the roots and herbs for you.” She said, looking up momentarily, “I think a stasis charm will work just fine. I can also do more the week after to make up for it.”
“This is happening in two weeks?” He asked, finally.
“Yes,” Hermione replied, nodding.
“And your suppressant’s aren’t working?” He said, reeling in the information. “How?”
Hermione grew annoyed flipping her planner shut.
“If you must know,” she jabbed pointedly. “Suppressants are not always a one wand fits all. They’re a shot in the dark. Sometimes they aren’t as forgiving to fluctuating hormone changes- which are normal and can happen from simple things like stress. I probably just need a stronger dose,” Hermione responded with a huff, working herself up.
In reality- it was a touchy subject, merely a puppet to her designation. Madam Pomfrey all but scuffed, looking down at Hermione’s chart.
“You’re already on a full omega dosage,” Pomfrey commented in disbelief.
“I need more,” Hermimone pleaded. “I can feel it. It’s not working as well.”
Pomfrey shook her head. “We can send a request to St. Mungos. No promises they’ll accept, but I’ll ask.”
“Please, anything.” Hermione replied, nodding. “I can’t go into a heat unexpectedly.”
Pomfrey looked at her with kind eyes. “I’m sorry, but you’ll more than likely have one soon. If your suppressants aren’t working, there’s a fair chance within the next 3-5 weeks you’ll have one.”
“What?”Hermoine said, taken back.
“But,” Pomfrey said, “Once you have your heat, we can start your new dosage.”
Draco eyed her curiously. “Are you going to nest with the Weasel?”
Hermone’s face scrunched. “Beta.”
“Potter, maybe? Does his scar get you all worked up?” Draco taunted with a smirk.
Hermione glowered at him. “Beta, and they’re two of my best friends. I’m not nesting with either of them.”
She watched his tongue trace over his top teeth, an utterly attractive gesture in the presence of the daughter of two dentists. She marveled at how straight and pristine they were, nearly mirroring his white hair. His sharp canine twinkled under the light, before he clicked his tongue. Her knickers dampened at the sight, as she refrained from squeezing her thighs together.
“And you’ll be in the castle? Just a sitting duck for any alpha?”
“Really, you don’t need to know any of this, but on the guise of being friendly, I’ll divulge,” Hermione replied, wiping the invisible dust off her robe. “McGonagall has arranged a private suite within the castle, it's heavily warded and undetectable unless you were told of it. Designed specifically for instances like this. I’ll be doing it alone.”
“Alone?” Draco scoffed. “Too good for an alpha?”
“I have no interest in being marked,” Hermione said, straightening her back. “I can’t trust a…suitor to adhere to that.”
“Like your choices were that good to begin with,” Draco stated. “I’ll take care of the potion. Don’t worry about prep and stasis charms,” he said, waving her off.
“It’s really no big deal,” she countered. “I can stay next week and do it.”
Draco studied her for a moment. “Fine. Are we going to talk about you this entire time, or are we going to do the potion?”
Hermione glared. “You’re the one who brought it up.”
X
“It says we need to drop the feathers one at a time, every four rotations,” Hermione said, reading the textbook. She felt the heat of the cauldron against her face, the condensation against her neck.
Hermione tied her hair up, watching Draco stiffen as he counted the spider fangs.
She continued to read the instructions. “Once we finish the 6 feathers-” she glanced up to see if he was listening.
Draco met her eye, letting her continue.
“We add 10 drops of troll snot, 2 drops every counter rotation,” Hermoine finished.
He straightened his back and moved his arm to rotate his shoulder. “Let’s do it.”
Hermione crossed her legs, watching his triceps flex under his robes.
X
“You have to keep it at a simmer, there should be bubbles actually bursting at the surface,” Hermione chided.
“Granger, I know what I’m doing,” he countered.
“I don’t care if you’ve done it before and found a better way,” she countered. “I want it done how the textbook says and right here-”
Hermione pointed down at the page harshly, “It says a small simmer. Which means-” she pointed at the cauldron. “That is too hot.”
“It has to be this hot if we want to dissolve the powdered owl shells,” Draco retorted. “I don’t care what the textbook says. If we do it like that, we’ll get globs of sediment at the bottom.”
“No,” Hermione said, not letting it go. “If we keep it this hot, the troll snot will evaporate.”
“Then we turn the heat on once the shells dissolve,” he said, shrugging.
“We need to do it at the same time!” Hermione exclaimed, standing up, “The textbook says shells and snot all at once.”
Draco threw down the spoon. “Merlin, you witch. Do you ever just let someone else win?”
Hermione slowly sat back down. “I don’t want to fail this. It may not be anything to you, but I want to do good on it.”
“And you think I don't?” Draco scuffed. “Just trust me.”
“Just this once.”
X
“Theo,” Draco drawled. “I don’t have all day.”
Theo looked around the empty classroom once more. “I don’t want any eavesdropping 1st years, is all.”
Draco rolled his eyes.
“Have you been feeling…” Theo trailed off, looking for the right word. “Off?”
If he meant the raging boner he had that morning that could not go away, then yes. If he meant the simmering, hot magic flowing through his veins- double yes.
Instead, Draco just nodded.
“I think there’s another Omega,” Theo said cautiously.
“What do you mean?”
“I was walking down the hall with the statue of the girl holding the rabbit right,” he said, glancing up. “And I smelled some sickeningly sweet mint. I’ve never smelled anything like it.”
Draco stared at him. “Did you find the source?”
“No, but I think they were close to their heat, probably don’t even know.” Theo grabbed his sleeve and yanked it up. “I literally clawed myself fighting the urge to chase after them. I noticed a lot of the other Alphas getting antsy.”
“Like what?”
“Blaise got into it with Hagrid and I heard one of the Gryffindorks threw a fit during breakfast,” Theo looked back at the door. “Just be weary.”
X
Week four:
He knew as soon as he walked into the classroom, the scent of her immediately nipping at his being begging to explore senses. He didn’t even know it was possible for a witch to produce such a thick wall of pheromones. Draco immediately occluded, hiding behind a mask of indifference.
Hermione sat at the desk they always used. He noticed first that her hair up in up, it reminded him of a bee’s hive the way it sat in a bun atop her head. Second, she was incessantly tapping her foot.
She glanced up from the textbook. “Oh, you’re finally here,” she said.
Hermione stood up and moved to the cauldron. “I have everything ready. We just need to mix it and let it cook.”
He took a few hesitant steps to the desk.
“How are you feeling today, Granger?” Draco hesitantly asked, debating on pulling his robe over his nose to block her scent. He could feel the warm magic pump through his veins, and he flexed his hand.
Granger gave him a weird look. “Why is everyone asking me that?”
“Who else has asked you?”
She stared at him before answering. “It doesn’t matter.”
He made a ‘hmm’ noise, opting against covering his nose. Maybe it was one of those things you had to smell more of to get used to.
Draco took a few test breaths through his nose. The mint coated his nostrils and seeped down his throat, waning down to his core. He felt his cock twitch after the second inhale. Fuck, fuck ,fuck . He stuck to mouth breathing, which was very unmannered of him, and if his mother could see he would be smacked on the head.
“I’m fine though,” Granger said, shattering his thoughts. His vision blurred on the edges- their surroundings meaningless. He focused on the sharpened features on her face, as his vision illuminated her only.
“I’m just nearing my heat,” she said, with a slight blush. “It’s probably causing slight upticks in testosterone.”
X
“Granger,” Draco sneered. “Stay on the far side of the desk.”
Hermione felt her jaw fall. “Excuse me?”
Hermione spitefully stomped to his side of the desk. “Is this too close for you?”
He peered down at her, with a cloudy stare.
“Granger,” he warned with a dark voice.
Hermione planted her feet, stirring the cauldron. She ignored the way his voice rattled her bones, sending a shiver down her spine.
“Move,” Draco commanded with his alpha voice.
Hermoine gasped, feeling herself want nothing more than to oblige.
“You can’t do that,” she squeaked.
“I’m going to be doing a lot of things , I shouldn't do it if you don't move,” he gritted out, with his hand over his face.
Hermoine took the warning, and shuffled a few steps back.
“What is your problem!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms out. “Are you getting all weird about my heat in a week?”
“Granger,” he said, cutting her off. “Your heat isn’t coming in a week. I don’t know if you notice or not, but you’re close.”
She froze. “What?”
Draco eyed her. “You have 2 days, at most.”
The room stilled, so quiet the sound of a pixie could have been heard from outside the castle walls.
“Oh my-” Hermione’s eyes went wide at his revelation, “I should- I need to-”
Hermione looked around the desk, grabbing anything of hers and shoving it into her bag.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize-”
“Granger-,” Draco said, trying to get her attention, while she continued to panic.
“-I knew I shouldn’t have trusted Pomfrey.” Hermione scuffed, “She is a beta after all. How would she possibly know?”
Draco sighed and tried grabbing her attention again, “Granger-”
“And don’t even get me started on St. Mungos-”
“ Granger -
“I’ll owl you,” Hermione said, cutting him off and pulling her robe on.
“ Hermione ,” Draco emphasized, using her name for the first time.
The textbook in her hand dropped to the ground, Hermione frozen in place.
“Yes?”
Draco shrugged, glancing down at the book. “If you ever find yourself with needs…”
Hermione watched him lean down, grabbing the textbook off the ground. Almost as if it was all in slow motion, and offering it back to her.
She felt a blush blotch her neck and cheeks, the heat radiating throughout her body. Her knickers were surely soaked at the basic- but chivalrous display.
He met her eye as she grabbed the book from him. He refused to let it go. “I’m only an owl away. I wouldn’t bite you,” Draco’s gaze landed on her neck. “Wizard's honor, you can guarantee I wouldn’t cross any boundaries.”
Hermione didn’t respond, instead choosing to run out of the room in a blur.
X
Hermione raced up the stairs, nearly two at a time till she reached McGonagall's office.
She knocked on the door urgently.
“Ms. Granger, what is going on?” The professor demanded while opening the door.
“Professor,” she said with her chest heaving. “My heat is coming sooner than I thought.”
“Oh Merlin,” the woman whispered. “Do you need the room?”
Hermione nodded. “Yes, I think I have three days.”
“Wait a moment, I’ll show you to it.” McGonagall replied, grabbing her robe.
X
She heard a knock at her door. “Hermione?”
Hermione opened it to find a rosy cheeked Ginny.
“Gin,” she gasped. “How did you know where I was?”
“Oh, McGonagoll mentioned it to me. I think she was hoping I could lend you an ear,” she grinned. “I hear you’re having your heat?”
Hermione dramatically fell back on her bed. “It’s just my luck. Sprung up early on me, I didn’t even realize until Malfoy-”
“Malfoy?” Ginny blurted, “He told you?”
Hermone gave her a reluctant glance. “It was during our weekly potions extra credit. He couldn’t even do anything with one of his hands covering his nose.”
Ginny’s eyes dropped down her body. “But he didn’t do anything, did he?”
“Merlin, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I think a simple touch of my skin would tarnish the Malfoy line.”
Ginny chuckled. “Probably.” Her features softened. “Are you doing okay?”
“My bones ache, every breath I take I can feel my body gearing up in anticipation. Everything is cracking, loosening,” Hermone glanced at her. “I’m so bloody hot. I can’t seem to place enough cooling charms.”
“I’m sorry, ‘Mione,” Ginny replied tenderly. She reached to touch her cheek, but hesitated slightly in case it wasn’t okay. When Hermione let her, she heard her ask, “Mum might have a spell. She’s an omega too, you know. But she always had my dad, her mate.”
“I’m not mating with anyone,” Hermione declared. “I don’t even want to think about my heat again once I get through these few days and back on a suppressant.”
“Did they ever figure out how yours failed?”
“No, they assume it’s just due to being in close proximity to so many alphas during a stressful year.”
“Alphas or one singular alpha you spend hours alone with, standing over a cauldron.”
Hermone winced, “Possibly.”
“I would have already told Snape to shove it. I couldn’t sit next to the pompous prick for any extended amount of time,” Ginny replied, scuffing. “He’s even meaner looking now that he’s growing into his designation.”
Hermione sighed, placing another cooling charm on herself. “I know, but there's only 8 more weeks of it and I need those extra credits. I don’t know how things are going to pan out in the wizarding world, but a letter of recommendation with a perfect potion score is a great career starter.”
“Neville is an alpha,” Ginny blurted. “He could help you. You wouldn’t have to mate with him. He seems passive enough to not bite you,” she squeaked.
“I’ll be fine, Gin,” Hermone said, fanning herself. “I don’t want anyone during it.”
Ginny nodded with worried eyes. “I’ll owl Mum.”
“Right,” she glanced at the younger witch. “You should probably leave. Please don’t tell anyone I’m here.”
“Of course,” Ginny said, sticking her hand out to shake. “Witches honor.”
X
“Theo, can you shut the fuck up for one fucking minute,” Draco snapped.
His head was pounding, he was over exerting himself- he knew that, but fuck , how could he not? Just when he felt comfortable, confident enough– being that close to her , suddenly- she was sex on legs. Stinking up the room at alarming rates with her new, unfiltered smell.
“Merlin, what the fuck has you so snippy for,” Theo gawked stepping back. “Has an elf pissed on your pillow or something?”
“It’s that dirty omega,” Pansy sneered. “They had their ‘little’ weekly potion assignment.”
“You’re still doing that?” Blaise asked, grabbing his cup of pumpkin juice.
“Wouldn’t you?” Goyle chuckled, “I would love to be cooped up with an Omega a few hours every week.”
“No witch would willingly agree to that,” Theo countered. “They run away from you, like literally.”
“It was one time,” Goyle whined. “It was dark and she didn’t have her glasses and-”
“She thought you were a troll,” Theo said, trying not to laugh. “Besides, you my-” he faltered slightly, “-house mate, are a beta. No Omega is going to look at you for a moment, much less Granger.”
“I don’t understand why Draco hasn’t asked Snape to end it,” Pansy replied, giving him a pointed look. “It’s for what? A few points and a pat on the back?”
“She has to be rather annoying, right?” Theo asked, reaching over him to grab a sausage. “Always raising her hand in class.”
Blaise chuckled next to him. “I find her eagerness exciting. If she’s that interested in history of magic, imagine how interested she’ll be in-”
“Do you lot ever shut up,” Draco sneered, cutting Blaise off.
He turned his nose up at the food around him, the sounds of Crabbe’s smacking, as he scarfed down his plate turned his stomach. He glanced towards the Gryffindor table, but she wasn’t there. The witch was probably stewing in that room, steaming the walls with her rising body temperature. His own blood boiled within his skin knowing what was to happen to her.
“Oh, she got under his skin real good today,” Pansy said, smirking. She tapped her plate, vanishing it to the kitchens and leaned on her elbows. “What did she do this time? Cut the flobberworms wrong again?”
Instead of answering, Draco merely rolled his eyes and walked out of the great hall. He had other things to do than indulge the snakes.
Behind him, he heard the Slytherin table erupt into laughs. All Draco could focus on though, was the sweet smell of a candied mint. It tickled his nose, pulled at his nerves. The instinct to find– mate , bubbled at the brink of his thoughts.
She hadn’t even started her heat and she was already oozing down every hall, calling for him to come to her. Like a siren, or a lighthouse, a yearning to follow it knotted in his magical core. He wanted to follow it, obey its calling, but it wasn’t his place.
X
“What did the cabinet do to you?” Theo asked, coming up from behind him.
Draco cursed under his breath hearing the sounds of Theo chewing an apple.
Draco glared at him entering the room of requirement, “What do you want, Theo?”
Theo shrugged his shoulders. “I figured it out.”
“The minty smell, it’s not another Omega. It’s Granger, but you knew that, didn’t you?” He accused, smirking.
“It’s hard not to notice, when you’re three fucking feet away from the witch,” Draco sneered.
Theo ignored his glare, choosing to tap his fingers on the cabinet. “So, who’s the lucky man that's going to accompany her?”
“She’s doing it alone,” Draco gritted out. “Now that you had your gossip sesh, are you going to stand around or help me?”
Theo eyed the cabinet. “I’m not very good with things like this.”
“I’ve tried sending so many fucking objects through,” he groaned. “None have comeback, some turned into fucking piles of ash.” He kicked it again, “I’m fucking over it.”
“Do you want me to try?” Theo asked, wearily.
Draco sent the sliver of parchment with the incantation towards him with a quick flick of his wand, “Be my guest,” he drawled dramatically.
Theo grabbed a coin off the mound of objects, and set it inside the cabinet. He read off the incantation and swished his wand, watching the cabinet expectantly.
“Did I do it?”
“You need to enunciate the ‘uh’ sound more,” Draco commented. “I doubt it worked with such sloppy latin.”
X
He gripped his sheets, the faint scent of her danced along his skin. Every pore was full of her, every fabric he owned was drenched in mint. She clung to Hogwarts like a virus, spreading slowly as her heat shook her in waves. The alphas lurking around the castle grew agitated and irritable, many detentions and house points were deducted at a steady rate.
Draco found solitude in the confines of his bunk, with his hand wrapped around his cock. There was no barrier between them in the seclusion of his mind, far away from the world they were living. Giving into his animalistic desires, he huddled in his bed through the second half of his day. Images of her writhing in her own suite, succumbing to her own inferno kept him rock hard. The knowing- she was in the castle, begging for someone. He came within an instant, the spurting in pulses against his stomach.
X
Hermione could feel the blazing haze begin to creep further into her mind, and with shaking movements, reached to grab her wand. She mumbled a few spells and attempted to add her own wards to the room, an extra layer of security. The whispered croaks of her voice muttered spells until the haze fully enveloped her body in a cocoon of warmth.
Her wand fell to the floor, but all Hermone could hear was ringing in her ears as her veins burst with molten lava. She wandlessly vanished her blouse and bra with a swift motion, in an attempt for any type of cooling effect. She growled as she vanished her pajamas and knickers, but it didn’t help.
The sweat dripped down her back, and she could taste the salt on her upper lip. She collapsed on her bed, and tried to find some comfort within the cool duvet sheets. She couldn’t though, with the feeling of her hair inciting a fit of rage as the weight of her curls caused her to feel claustrophobic. She wanted to cut it all off, maybe sport a cute pixie cut. Instead, she tied it in the tightest bun she could, careful to put all the loose ringlets into it.
X
The raging fire within her body dried her throat, the only sounds coming out being croaky and cracked. She gulped down the charmed glass of water.
Hermione flung out her hand. “ Accio wand”, she said hoarsely.
The wand rattled along the floorboards, until the cool wood met her fiery palm. She muttered more cool spells, even a few icy ones (they melted).
X
After only a few hours of sleep, Hermione awoke with a shutter. She arched her back in need, as her core throbbed to the rhythm of her heartbeat. Her toes curled against the sheets and she choked out a few incoherent mumbles.
She was horny, painfully horny. With the undeniable need for something, anything to fill her. She need to be fucked, stretched- completely ruined. Her hand found her cunt, teasingly rubbing the clit. It did nothing to ease the desire to be penetrated, to ease the hollow ache between her thighs. Her fingers dipped into her pooled cunt, her fluids oozing down her bum. She clenched around her two fingers, begging for more. Another slipped in, as she curled them up searching for the pressure point.
Finding a rhythm, Hermione moaned rolling her head back into the bed. Her other hand teased at her nipples, pinching the hardened pebbles. It still didn’t feel like enough . Her wrist hurt at the angle, and through her misty eyes she searched the room.
The shimmer of the door knob caught her eye, maybe- she shook the thought out of her head. She needed something longer, thicker. Something to push so far in, suffocating all the thoughts plaguing her mind.
X
Draco thrashed in his bed, the squeaks of it ringing in his ears. He knew she was experiencing her heat now, the minty scent had become wintery with an almost icy touch to it. Every wall, every crevice of the castle, every drop of fluid tainted with her scent.
He needed her. She needed him– no, ached for him.
This wasn’t a rut. This was a yearning, a need to fulfill. Granger was in pain somewhere within the walls, begging for an alpha to help. He entertained the thought that maybe, it was a calling only to him. A desire to succumb to his will- his knot.
Merlin, he wanted her.
X
Hermione grinded against the bedpost in a desperate attempt to increase the friction and fill just a fraction of the void within her core.
With a leg-shaking orgasm, she heaved herself onto the bed. The post climatic haze cleared her vision and organized her thoughts enough to remember water. She leaned over for another glass.
Her muscles ached, and her quim pulsed with need yet again. The initial frenzied feeling of insatiable lust had subsided, only to be replaced with the Omega rearing her ugly head.
Hermione chuckled. There was no control left.
She laid back. What was it she really wanted? Who was it she really wanted?
Visions of pale, muscular seeker hands filled her mind. She imagined his hands on her neck, grazing the sides, trailing over the sensitive spots just slightly. Would he touch her nipples? Would he suck on them? Would he try to fill his whole mouth with her breast? Leave watercolors of purples and reds? She mimicked her fantasy, slowly sliding her hands down to her breasts.
Despite feeling so warm, she shivered at the icy feeling of her fingers. Her nipples hardened instantly.
X
Draco groaned, his veins bursting with magma. He wanted nothing more in the world than to have Granger wrapped around him.
He fisted his cock once more, noting the alarming rate of it rehardening. She was going to put them all into a rut if she kept it up.
His vigorous thrusts accompanied thoughts of her sprawled out in front of him. He would make it tortuous, even if it meant painfully edging himself in the process. Slow licks along her stomach, a finger grazing her inner thigh. Did she taste as sweet as she smelled?
His hand was nothing compared to the heaven between her legs, and he ached to feel it one day. To feel her walls clench around his knot, expanding to intense lengths. Could she take it?
Groaning, he pumped the last few spurts of sperm onto his hand.
Finding his strength, he magically cleaned his cum off himself. Draco pushed the looming fog to the corner of his mind, he needed to stop entertaining such lucrative thoughts.
X
“Theo,” Draco said, pulling him to an alcove. “Did you feel that last night?”
Theo gave him a puzzled look. “Feel what?”
Draco paused, “You didn’t almost go into a rut last night?”
“Uh-” Theo started, taking a step back, “no.”
“What?””
“No offense, Draco, but I don’t want anyone to see just the two of us in the quickie alcove,” Theo said, backing away. “I slept like a baby.”
X
“Hermione, you’re glowing!” Lavender spoke, with a wide smile taking in her appearance before leaving the girls dorm.
Padma and Pavarti stopped her in the halls. “You have a different energy,” the Gryffindor said, looking to the Ravenclaw for confirmation. The ravenclaw nodded, her eyes glowing. “Her aura is different.”
“Brighter,” the twins said in unison.
Ron had avoided being too close to her. Scooching away when she sat down, careful to not touch her or anything she might have. Like she could infect him.
“What is your problem?” She finally erupted in the great hall, shaking the plate that laid before her with her outburst.
His eyes grew wide, as splotchy red patches appeared around his neck. With his immediacy to embarrass, quickly making excuses for his behavior. It disgusted her more than his subtle aversion to her designation. How easily he folded, crumbling off his soap box with a single question. She liked the fight, an equal competitor, like an alpha. It wasn’t any alpha though, was it?
“I’m sorry,” Ron said, recoiling. “I’ve never been around someone who…” he looked her up and down as an explanation.
She gave him a challenging glare, “Who what?”
“I mean- you know!” He sputtered.
“No, Ronald. I don’t,” Hermione replied, gritting her teeth. She saw Ginny from the corner of her eye looking between them both, with her brows scrunched.
“Your heat!” He finally exclaimed.“You’ve been holed up somewhere in the castle, fucking who knows who. I don't know what you might have contracted!” At his words, the gryffindor table fell eerily silent. Ginny made the only noise as she arose from her seat and moved towards Ron with her wand up menacingly.
At that moment, Ginny sent a purply hex racing down the table to Ron. Hermione watched as it plunged into his nose with precision.
“What did you hit me with?” He croaked, holding his nose. “Is it a bat boogey?”
“Our mum is an Omega,” Ginny bellowed. “You’re just being bloody dick, because you’re jealous.”
“Jealous? I’m not jealous,” Ron replied, narrowing his eyes. “What’s there to be jealous of, anyways.”
“Admit it. You’re upset, because you didn’t get the alpha gene,” Ginny pressed. “Just because you thought Hermione and you were mates, doesn’t mean you need to be so rude.”
“What are you going to do? Tell Mum?” He scuffed, hesitantly, only now letting his nose go
The moment the pressure lessened on his nose, he wailed in horror as the stream of magic erupted from his nostrils. The entire table broke out in a fit of laughter.
Hermione glanced up, she didn’t care about the communion Ron was causing. She didn’t care that all the house tables had turned their attention to her space, and she certainly didn’t care about all the stares as she walked out of the great hall (sparing only a small glance in a blonde alphas direction, but he wasn’t there).
Week five: Wolfsbane
Hermione bristled into the classroom and shook off her robe. She draped it over the chair at the desk without giving him a glance. “Wolfsbane is a tedious and long potion. I hope you are prepared, Malfoy.”
“I’ve brewed it before,” he replied steadily. “How are you feeling?”
The steady rhythm of her heartbeat quickened, maybe he was just being nice?
She glanced up. “Fine, why do you ask?”
“You’re not though, are you,” he tested, standing up. In a few swift movements, he was right next to her.
The sudden feeling of his presence, caused an embarrassing effect to her body. She straightened up, definitely.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied, flustered. “I had my heat, but it’s over now.”
“You still smell like you did before,” he said, eyeing her curiously. “It's been over a week, wouldn't they have adapted by now?”
The record scratched in her brain.
“No one else has mentioned it,” she replied, primly. “You must be confused.”
Draco dug his claw in, seeing the limping excuse. “They’re not working, are they?”
“I think they are working just fine,” she rushed out.
Hermione felt his breath against her skin as he leaned down.
“How many times must I tell you,” he tutted. “I am not one of your lapdog betas. You can’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” she squeaked. “I might be a little hot temperature wise, but I should be fine. Neville nor Cormac said anything.”
“Because it’s not for them,” he whispered into her ear. “Who were you thinking about during your heat?”
“No one,” she breathed.
“ Granger,” he chided. “I know you’re lying.”
Draco slithered his hand under her shirt, palming her stomach. “You nearly sent me into a rut.”
Hermione stammered out, “I-I di-”
“Shhh,” he said, letting his other hand snake over her mouth. “Nowhere to run now, no excuse to tell.” He nipped her ear, “Tell me, what did you fantasize about?”
“You,” she whimpered, tasting the dirty film the words left in her mouth. She was so easily putty in his hands, malleable and moldable to the notion of him. He plagued her mind, sticking to her skin like honey transforming every lustful thought into him and only him.
Draco dipped his two fingers into her mouth. Hermione sucked on them softly, remembering the taste of his skin.
“You need to be more specific,” he breathed against her ear. He took his fingers out of her mouth and found her throat with a loose grip. “What did you imagine me doing?”
“Lots of things,” she whispered, wincing at some of the dirty fantasies she conjured during her heat. “Did you really almost go into a rut?”
He flexed his hand, straightening her neck. Leaving kisses along her collarbone he spoke, “I skipped half a day's worth of class.”
“I didn’t mean to,'' Hermione replied, apologizing. “If I had known that was going to happen, I wouldn’t of-”
Draco cut her off. “Did you think of anyone else?”
Silence.
“No.”
His hand left her neck, journeying down to her right breast. He trailed his other up to her left, kneading both of them under her shirt.
“What did you imagine?” He mumbled against her shoulder. “Indulge me.”
“I thought about you um,” her confidence suddenly gone as he licked her neck.
“Thought about me doing what?” Draco asked, kissing below her ear. “Where was I touching you?”
Hermione grabbed one of his wrists and guided it to her knickers, unable to say the words.
“How many fingers did you try,” he asked, smirking against the back of her neck
“Three,” she squeaked, feeling his hand slide along her mound. Her vision clouded at the rim.
“It didn’t help,” she added, biting her lip at the anticipation.
Draco chuckled against her neck, feeling the accumulated fluid her cunt was rapidly producing. He gently sucked on her neck. Biting here, licking there- carefully avoiding the sensitive patches of skin.
“We really shouldn’t do this,” Hermione replied weakly, shuttering as his finger grazed her clit.
He leaned her back against his chest. “Why’s that?”
Hermione felt his erection against her back, throbbing with his own pulse.
“Wolfsbane is a long potion, we have nearly 95 minutes of simmer ti-,” she cut off in a gasp as his long fingers suddenly plunged into her core.
“You’re going to come on my fingers,” he whispered into her ear. His other hand pinched her nipple roughly, rubbing it against his fingers.
He made quick work, curling his slender fingers perfectly against her sensitive points at a steady pace. Hermione felt the corners of her mind tear, fraying at the seams as an orgasm rippled through her body alarmingly quick. She bit her lip till she tasted blood, resisting the urge to moan his name through her orgasm as she rode his hand through the aftershock.
He took his fingers out of her cunt and examined the glistening fluid on his fingers. “That was easy.”
“I hate you,” she mumbled, pushing off him with her wobbling legs, flattening her skirt back down.
Draco slowly brought his fingers to his mouth, hesitantly tasting her.
In any other instance, she would have curled into herself shying away from such an humiliating display of tasting anothers juices. Instead, she bit back a smirk and swallowed the pride that settled in her stomach watching as he licked his fingers clean.
“We really need to start this potion,” Hermione concluded, regaining a sliver of clarity she had been missing.
X
“We need to stir this twelve times counter-clockwise and then twelve more clock-wise,” Hermione announced after dropping the last moon flower into the cauldron. “We repeat that cycle for 48 minutes.”
“I’ll mix first,” Draco said, reaching for the spoon. “Start the timer.”
Hermione nodded. “I’ll clean up.”
Hermione watched as he studiously stirred the lilac potion. She was able to see a shadow of his profile, with his pink lips twisting into a smirk.
“So, feeling better?” He asked with a slight airiness.
Slightly stiffening, she threw him a bone of appreciation. “Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it,” Hermione said, shutting down the conversation.
X
She found him in every hall between classes. Hermione noted the way his white hair contrasted amongst the crowd, watching who he walked with, who he talked with, and memorizing the fluidity of his gait as he weaved between the masses.
There was a certain crispness her orgasm had given her—a sharpness to her senses—she had nearly convinced herself she had imagined following her encounter with Malfoy. She knew something had felt off within her after her heat.
During classes, she felt him before she would see him saunter in. His scent sending immediate cooling effects to her skin, raising the hairs with a shiver. The feeling of his fingers satiated her hunger more than riding through the waves of her heat.
Hermione came to the startling realization that her weekly meetings with Malfoy were only throwing her entire biology into both of their faces. It was merely a band-aid of sorts, with a temporary feeling of being normal in return.
X
Week Six: Elixir to induce euphoria
“Merlin, Granger,” Draco murmured, rounding the corridor to meet her in their classroom. Her scent was like the sea, pulling him in, wave by wave. Until his feet found the current, he found himself barreling into the classroom.
Granger wasn't even in the room, yet her pheromones greeted him like an old friend. Before presenting, he might have called out for her, but now? Draco sniffed the air, searching for her. Shamefully, an animalistic desire to hunt her like prey fueled his magic, and his cock twitched at the sight before him.
Granger was on her tippy toes in an attempt to reach for the butterfly wings on the top shelf. She tried once more before going back on flat feet. Without looking back, she quietly asked, “Can you grab it for me?”
“You’re a witch,” Draco stated. “I know you weren’t raised at one, but it's an easy spell. Maybe I could teach you.”
She whipped her head around to give Draco a sneer. “You try it with your wand, then.”
Draco flicked his wand with the intention of it whizzing into his hand. Except it didn’t fly into his hand. His smirk fell off his face as Draco tried again, speaking the words, but to no avail.
“Did the paranoid freak place an anti-magic charm in here?” Draco asked snidely.
“Can you just grab it?” Hermione groaned, “I’ve been trying for ten minutes. Not a bloody stool in sight either.”
“Ask me nicely,” he whispered against her ear.
“No,” she bit out.
Draco took a few steps back. “Good luck then, Granger. Let me know when you grab them.”
With another glance up at the shelf, she took a defeated sigh. “Please, Malfoy.”
He sucked air into his mouth, creating a ‘tsk tsk tsk’. “That wasn’t very convincing, but I’m taking pity on the Omega.” Draco lazily reached up, leaning fully against her back.
Draco deposited the vial in her hands.
“At least beg for it next time,” he replied, dipping down to nip her collarbone. She felt him smirking against her skin for only a moment, but all too quickly she felt the phantom of his lips. Without waiting for a response, he walked out of the closet.
X
Hermione cleared her throat before stepping out of the closet. The close proximity of his pressing against her back brought up memories and an insatiable hunger for more. The temptation to drag him back under the premise of needing his help again. She could beg; she could really beg if he wanted. Maybe she wanted to hear him beg too. Maybe she wanted to test the fantasies in her head; could he even be compared to her imagination?
She was painfully horny and made careful (squeezing) steps as the feeling of his pheromones tugged her to him. Like a rubber band being snapped back together, she found herself somewhat at ease, now facing him. The honey soothed her, putting a layer of film over her skin. She wondered if it ever stuck; maybe her hair absorbed his smell of sweetness, wafting the halls with their mixed scent. Could the other alphas smell it on her skin?
His robes had been cast to the side, long forgotten. Hermione watched as he opened the textbook and perfectly laid out all the ingredients, grouped into order.
“Are you going to just sit there, or are you going to help?” Draco asked pointedly.
“What would you like me to do?”
Hermione watched his eyes flash momentarily, recollecting himself within a blink.
He pushed up his sleeve, and she felt her toes curl in her shoes. ( which one he showed didn’t escape her.)
“The textbook says...”
“So we’re using the textbook now?”
He rolled his eyes, “Yes. I was going to explain it all to you in detail , but if you want to be snippy, chop the head off the sea slugs.”
As she grabbed the sea slugs, she felt the impending feeling loom over her chest that her control was being lost by the second. Her motions seemed out of body. Muscle memory while her mind succumbed to an unfamiliar syrupy haze.
The seams she had so carefully hand stitched back together after last week were already fraying, loosening with every movement he made. It was completely irrational and uncontrollable, but as she watched, she couldn't help but think he was speaking a language only she could understand. Or maybe it was the only one she cared to understand. Through the fog, he was the only beacon of clarity she saw.
X
“Granger, are you listening to me?” Draco snapped. “You need to brew those herbs in a cauldron with a drop of clover oil.” He turned his attention back to his own cauldron. “I’ll get the ooze, brains, and slime simmering in this one.”
Hermione nodded, trying to shake the dense cloud from her brain. It was an easy task—just steep some herbs—but as she squinted at the cauldron, the task seemed nearly impossible to her. Her vision was contorting, warping into foreign shapes. She felt like she was drowning; the only thing remotely similar was the time she and Ginny split a bottle of fire whiskey.
“I don’t think I can,” she replied weakly.
Draco stiffened in front of her, choosing only now to study her. She watched his features soften as he took in her appearance. Hermione could only assume she looked as small and pitiful as she felt. A task any first year could do, and she was staring at it lamely.
“Oh, Granger,” he murmured.
Within a second, he had rounded the table. Hermione felt herself freeze, a shell of the woman she usually was.
“Did I do this to you?” He asked softly, tucking a curl behind her ear.
Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded, chewing on the underside of her lip.
Draco took her hand to stand her up.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing her back against his chest. He bent down to her now exposed ear, “This is my fault. I should have fucked you properly last week.”
It was like he flipped a switch within her or cast a fire within her chest that was spreading within her body.
Take me, Alpha. Take me, she pleaded internally.
“You’ve been a mess since, haven't you?” Draco teased, nipping her ear, while his hands smoldered the flames in her abdomen.
She whimpered under his hasty, explorative touch. The pads of his fingers gripped at her breasts, teasing her with every pinch. Hermione was melting against his chest, finding herself writhing in his grasp.
“Please,” Hermione choked out. “I need-”
“More. I know, baby,” he murmured. “Do you want me to fuck you right here?”
She nodded, nearly at the point of tears, desperately yearning for friction.
“Do you want my knot to swell in that tight cunt of yours?” Draco whispered, kissing along her jaw. “You’d feel me for days.”
She felt him lick over her neck, swiping over the sensitive skin. “You’d smell like me for days. Everyone will know we fucked.”
His hand found her knickers, pushing aside the wet fabric. His fingers glided along her slick mound, the wet noises echoing in the room.
“I’ve been thinking about this since I tasted you,” he growled. “Lean over the desk.”
Without much thought, she leaned her elbows onto the desk. Draco gripped her hips, pulling her elbow closer to him.
“Spread your legs,” he whispered, sinking to his knees.
Draco carefully hiked her skirt well above her waistline and vanished her knickers with a flick. His large hands gripped her arse with such force that she held onto the desk for stability.
His tongue lapped at her cunt, licking away all the fluid. He teasingly circled her clit, before sucking along her labia. He explored her hole, circling around it before sinking his tongue in and drinking from the source until she sank into him with a throaty moan.
Satisfied with her cunt, Hermione felt him spread her arched cheeks. Exposing herself utterly and completely to him. It was everything Hermione thought she hated—the idea of being so vulnerable. There was no embarrassment or shame, because he wanted it. He touched her body like it was molded for him—a twitching snitch for him to study.
With a long, languid lick, he trailed from her cunt all the way up a foreign area. His grip on her cheeks tightened as his tongue darted around. She felt him spread her further, his tongue swirling along her hole in a circular motion. The sensation was unique and unexplainable as her cunt throbbed for the same attention once again. Something, anything.
There was something so addicting about the way his tongue slurped and sucked at her most sensitive areas. Hermione felt him use one hand, spreading them both at the same time. His other, danced along her cunt, teasingly soaking his fingers before plunging them deep inside her.
Hermione gasped, choking out a moan. She leaned further onto his face, relishing in the pleasure he was giving her.
There was no world outside the classroom; her place on earth was to be like this: consumed with ecstasy, needy, desperate, and completely at the hands of him .
Her knees wobbled as she shook, feeling the turbulence of an orgasm swallowing her whole.
She felt Draco rise to his feet, the sound of his belt rattling in her ears. Hermione wanted it. She needed it. What did it look like? How big was it?
Hermione pushed off the desk with the little strength she had. Feeling Draco stiffen behind her, she awkwardly maneuvered onto the ground. Through her hooded, lust-filled eyes, she glanced up at him.
It was an invitation, a plea.
His trousers were off within an instant. Draco let his eyes absorb her. She couldn’t help but notice his eyes were much darker than his usual shiny silver. They were stormy, glowing like the moon on a dark night.
“Please,” she whispered, feeling him crawl on top of her.
Draco kissed her jaw and said, “I won’t bite you.”
Hermione felt his girthy head prod against her wet cut, lubricating itself along her folds.
“This-” Draco pushed into her with a gasp. “This is mine, though.”
She felt her walls accommodate his large size, clenching around his length. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist, securing the sensation.
“I may not mark you on your neck, but this cunt ,” Draco pushed further into her, now stretching her to his perfect size. “This is mine .”
Hermoine squeezed around him, hoping she could make it feel half as good as she felt. Her mind, a muddy mess, memorized the markings on his face with every thrust. He was her salvation, a remedy curated by Merlin and Morgana themselves.
“I’ll find you every time,” he mumbled, finding his rhythm within her. “ Fuck , Hermione .”