Blood Bound

Chapter 17 - Desideratum

Despite her earlier insinuations to coerce Draco to Ancient Runes in the afternoon, the two of them only had only been on the sofa in their little common room for an hour before Hermione made to retire to her room, alone. She still had plans for him that did not include inviting him into her bed tonight.

Slightly unsteady from the bottle of firewhiskey the two had shared, she pulled Draco’s hand out from under her blouse, an amused smile forming on her lips when he pouted against her mouth.

“Oh tuck that look away for someone who will fall for it” she coo’ed patronizingly, pushing his lip back in with her finger. “I have some homework and brewing to catch up on tonight if you want me to watch you play tomorrow.” He unwound his hand from around her waist, letting her up off of his lap but the petulant look on his face remained.

“But you brewed your potion the day before yesterday, even if your tolerance is increasing you can’t have possibly used it already” he complained with a slightly distracted look, obviously doing calculations in his head about the doses in a batch.

“How do you know when I brewed it last?” She asked, narrowing her eyes at him. She grabbed her wand from where it had gotten wedged between the couch cushions and tucked it into her sleeve.

“I’m observant” he replied casually, relaxing back into the couch and taking a sip from his glass. “I still don’t know why you brew it yourself instead of just buying it like a normal person or asking Madam Pomfrey.”

“Because,” she snapped “last time I requested a refill prescription from St. Mungo’s they called me an addict and gave me brochures for fucking rehab, and I’m sure the healers have forwarded my file to Hogwarts already so Pomfrey knows as much.”

“I mean they’re not wrong” he replied, rolling his eyes at her when her hair started sparking in anger. “Relax love, I’m not exactly one to be lecturing on substance abuse issues” he gestured with his glass of firewhiskey to emphasize his point. “Either way, there’s still no way you’ve managed to use up the entire batch already regardless of why you make it yourself.”

“I just want to brew some extra in advance” she acquiesced, “you know because I’m going to the game tomorrow, and we have that prefect meeting on Sunday morning, not to mention Ginny is forcing me into a study night tomorrow to start our N.E.W.T prep.” He started pouting again at her words.

“You mean I don’t get you all to myself again until Sunday night?” she hummed in confirmation to his question, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully, she hadn’t realized that fact until right now.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to manage for a few more days, absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that” she winked at him playfully turning to head to her room.

“Can’t say the same for my cock.” She heard him mutter to himself exasperatedly, which caused her to snicker quietly to herself once she was secluded inside the four walls of her bedroom.

Placing a locking spell on her door, she turned to the small brewing station she’d set up on her desk in the corner of her room. Though she’d been truthful in saying she was brewing tonight, Hermione was in fact not brewing more sine sensu potion, but something else entirely. Lighting the flames under the cauldron with a wave of her hand, she turned and opened one of the potions books she’d borrowed from an unknowing professor Slughorn -it’s not stealing if you intend to return it- and opened it to table of contents to find the recipe she had in mind.

When she flipped to the page she was looking for, a devious smile played at her lips when she read the description of the potion.

DesideratumObject of Lust

Unlike amortentia, which is a love potion, and libidine which is a general libido enhancer; desideratum is specifically tailored to the individual consuming the potion. While still inducing feelings of enhanced physical arousal, the arousal will be specific to the individual whom a piece of their physical body -a hair with the follicle attached is recommended for best results- is added to the finished brew.

It is important to note that this brew is ineffectual unless both the recipient and the object of the induced lust, possess physical attraction to one another prior to ingestion.

Ingredients and instructions are presented below, it is suggested this potion be brewed during the night time for optimal results.

Oh Draco has no idea what he’s gotten himself into she thought to herself gleefully. He likely had assumed that she’s forgiven him for the stunt he pulled this morning, but he’s quite wrong about that. What Draco -well nobody actually- knows about her is that despite her being a lion at heart, there had been a very heated discussion between herself and the sorting hat when she was eleven; during which it considered putting her in Slytherin house and she had threatened to feed it to the giant squid if it put her in the -as she’d called it back then- evil house or anything other than Gryffindor.

Over the years she’s come to terms with the fact that though she wore her red and gold with pride, she occasionally sported some Slytherin scales.

She set about starting the brew, throwing some ingredients into the cauldron and humming the sorting hat song softly as she worked, mentally concocting a plan as to how she was going to get him to drink it.


Draco woke in the morning to the mouth-watering smell of bacon and coffee. When he was fully awake, he laid in his bed for a few minutes simply listening to the sounds of his witch bustling around the apartment, singing along to a song on the radio. Rising to his feet, he didn’t bother changing from his joggers or to put on a shirt before he followed the smell of food and the sound of her voice into the kitchen. He was pleased to see that she too was scantily clad in a pair of tight shorts and an overly large, black long sleeved shirt.

Sneaking up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and bent his head down to place a kiss on the sensitive skin of her neck just below her jaw, sucking just enough to leave a small red mark, but not enough to bruise. She leaned back into his embrace, spatula still in hand as she waited to flip the eggs she was cooking on the stove. She twisted in his embrace to face him, snaking her arms up around his neck and kissing him properly.

Draco groaned audibly when his tongue roamed into her open mouth and met hers. She already tasted wonderfully like pine and honey, though the tequila was absent this morning. The lovely combination of sweetness with the bitter pine reminded him of when his mother would make juniper tarts from the berries he would collect off the bushes in their gardens as a child.

All too soon, Hermione was pulling away from their embrace, turning her attention back to not burning their breakfast. He refilled her teacup and poured himself a mug of the coffee she’d brewed for him before he took a seat on one of the stools at their small countertop island.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he said over the rim of his coffee cup, “but is there a special reason we’re having breakfast here instead of in the Great Hall this morning?” She walked past him and into the small living room to sit on one of the sofas, levitating her tea and both of their breakfast trays behind her. He followed and sat on the same sofa, his back against the armrest so he could face her while they ate their breakfast.

“Because,” she explained, smothering her muffin in some of the orange marmalade on her tray. He noticed pleasantly that his marmelade was not orange, but rather green apple. “You said yourself we won’t have any alone time until tomorrow night, so I told Ginny that I wanted to spend the morning responding to letters before I have to go to the game with her.”

“Weaslette is coming to the game?” He asked, surprised.

“Her name is Ginny, Draco. But yes, she insists on dragging me to all the games to ‘scope out the competition’.” The last part of her statement was accompanied by an exaggerated roll of her eyes before she picked up her tea and sipped.

“Regardless of what I call her, she can scope all she wants but you lions don’t stand a chance for the quidditch cup this year.” He assured her, taking a bite of his eggs.

“I couldn’t care less who wins the cup if I’m being honest, I still think quidditch is unreasonably dangerous, not to mention bloody boring” he was on the receiving end of her eye roll this time. He glared at her quite seriously.

“Well that is just blasphemous, you watch your mouth or I’ll scourgify it for you.” He threatened her, aiming his fork at her as though it were a wand to demonstrate. She just snorted at him and the two continued to eat their breakfasts, exchanging conversation occasionally but often lapsing into comfortable silences, content to simply sit in each other’s company.


Hermione watched in satisfaction as Draco ate his breakfast, she’d cooked the potion into his apple marmalade with a modified stasis charm to delay its effects until the perfect time. She hid her victorious grin behind her teacup when he thanked her for breakfast and sent their dishes into the sink to be washed with a wave of his wand.

When he walked back out of his room after changing into his quidditch uniform, Hermione was still sitting on the sofa, now reading from her transfiguration book.

“Reading about Animagi, hm? I bet if you were to be one, you’d be a kitten.” He whispered in her ear, she jumped when his hot breath washed over the back of her neck. She hadn’t even noticed him reading over her shoulder.

“Merlin you scared me!” she exclaimed, pressing a hand over her heart to steady its rapid beat. He raised his hands in apology, winking at her mischievously. “What makes you think I’d be a kitten?” She asked haughtily, setting her book in her lap to cross her arms over her chest.

“Because you’re small and quite cute, not to mention you actually purr sometimes.” He answered, coming around the back of the couch to lean on the wall in front of her. Oh he looks quite fit she thought to herself, momentarily distracted by the way the green and black of his robes brought out the silver in his eyes, and the cut of the robes accentuated his lithe seeker build. He cleared his throat loudly, bringing her out of her thoughts as he raised an eyebrow at her knowingly.

“I do not purr!” she stated indignantly, just now realizing what exactly he’d said.

“Oh yes you do,” he laughed. “When I bite or suck on that spot right above your collar bone on your neck, you do this lovely little purring thing in your chest that is quite possibly my favourite sound in the whole world.” He told her, a light tone in his voice, but the heated way his eyes were swirling pools of silver gave away his excitement.

Hermione felt her cheeks burn at his words, and she was quite certain her face resembled a tomato. She coughed to try and dislodge the lump that had formed in her throat.

“Anyways,” she said before he could continue any more “you should probably head down to your team, captain.” She got up from the couch and walked over to him, running her hands up his chest and around to the back of his head so her fingers could thread through his white-blonde hair. She stood up on her tiptoes and brought his head down to meet her lips, kissing him hotly as she pressed her body up against those lovely green robes. He moaned into her mouth when she bit down on his lip slightly, and Hermione wondered if perhaps she hadn’t used enough of a stasis charm and the potion was already working.

Hoping that his reaction was entirely his, she broke their kiss and looked up at him with a smile. His lips were more pink than usual and the bottom one was the tiniest bit swollen. His hair was mussed from her fingers so she attempted to fix the damage she’d done by smoothing it down a few times.

“If you’re going to react like this all the time” he said with a smirk, “I think I might start wearing my quidditch robes more often, maybe I’ll even start sleeping in them.” He threw her a flirtatious wink when she laughed.

“Go on,” she said, giving him a shove towards the door. “Good luck! And don’t fall off your broom!”

She heard him scoff indignantly at her words as he walked out the exit and into the hall.


The game had been playing for well over an hour when it started. Draco wasn’t entirely sure was it was but he knew he didn’t like it. At first the feeling wasn’t so bad, it was just like a small itch on top of his skin, as though he’d put on a scratchy sweater. The longer the game went on, the worse it got.

By the time Draco managed to catch the snitch and win the game for Slytherin, his skin felt like it was on fire. Not to mention that at some point he’d caught a glimpse of Grang- Hermione in the crowd and had immediately grown hard like some 13-year-old boy. By the time he landed his broom, the tightness in his trousers was uncomfortable to the point of pain. His entire body was screaming with need, need for the curly-haired witch. He felt like he’d been edged for hours, and his body and his mind craved the release she could give him.

He caught her gaze from across the field as he cagily avoided his teammates’ congratulations, the thought of anyone else touching him making his skin crawl. She smirked at him knowingly. He growled audibly as he headed in her direction, but his growl turned to a low whine when she winked, and his cock twitched in its confines.

Before she could say anything when he’d approached her, he wrapped one hand around her bicep and the other over her mouth. The feel of her skin against his made the burning a thousand times hotter anywhere their bodies touched but simultaneously sated some of the need burning inside him. He dragged her away from the crows and into the change rooms, shoving her roughly into the lockers lining the wall. He felt half-mad as his desire to fuck her into the ground battled with his impulse to curse her.

“You crazy fucking witch,” He growled, releasing his hold on her mouth to instead use that hand to fist her curls in his hand and wrench her head back to look up at him. “you drugged me with something didn’t you?”

“If I did, you deserved it” she replied arrogantly, her eyes twinkling with amusement and mischief. The lack of fear in her face only enraged him further.

“You’re going to fucking pay for it.” He threatened her, his voice low and menacing.

“What are you going to do? Hit me? Do it Draco” Her eyes were challenging as she lifted her chin in defiance. Something primal inside him longed to put her in her place, show her who was truly in charge. She lifted both of her hands and shoved roughly against his chest, taking him by surprise as he stumbled a few steps away from her.

“I bet you’d fucking like it wouldn’t you?” He growled, advancing back towards her as she did the same, the two met in the middle until they were so close, he could see the way her eyes were glowing gold around the edges.

“Only one way to find out” she was challenging him, he knew that. Forcing him to either assert his dominance or admit defeat. He narrowed his eyes at her, it almost looked like she wanted him to lash out at her. She raised an eyebrow when he didn’t react. “What’s wrong baby? Is the big bad death eater scared to hit the itty-bitty kitten?” She taunted him, tilting her head mockingly. “Are you scared Draco? Go on, do it. Hit me.” She tapped her cheek with her index finger as she took another step towards him; she was in arms reach now. “Maybe you’re too weak, is that it? I’ve hit you a few times, then again I’ve always been stronger than y-“her words were cut off as her head snapped to the side, a pink handprint blooming over her cheek.

She slowly turned her head back to him, a large wicked grin growing on her lips. She brought her hand up to rest over the now-raised handprint on her face. There was no hint of chocolate left in her eyes anymore, they glowed a gold shinier than any galleon he’d ever seen.

“Is that what you fucking wanted?” He growled, closing the space between them as he brought his hand up to wrap around her throat and drag her to him until their chests were pressing.

“I guess you’re not as much of a pussy as I thought you were” she rasped, her voice struggling to come out as the hold he had on her neck tightened.

Something inside of him snapped, whether it was whatever she’d given him or the way she kept challenging him; he didn’t know or have the capacity to care at the moment. Still holding her by the neck, Draco pushed Hermione backwards through the changeroom until they were both inside one of the shower stalls. He shoved her roughly against the wall directly under the shower head, turning on the water so that it poured over her face and down her fully clothed body.

He brought his body against hers, not caring that his robes were getting soaked in the process. She let out a wanton moan when his mouth met hers, his tongue forcing its way between her lips as he ground his hips against her. With a whispered spell, he vanished his clothes off of his body. Before he could do the same to her, he heard a voice call his name. He immediately released Hermione from where he had her pressed against the wall and let her slide down until she was kneeling behind the waist-high divider that separated the showers from the rest of the locker room. He groaned aloud and turned to the entrance where his friend was walking in.

“What the fuck do you want Nott?” He snapped, much more harshly than necessary.

“Sorry mate didn’t realize you were coming in here to shower, figured you’d do that in your dorm.”

“I’m- avoiding Granger” he offered, casting a quick glance down to the witch kneeling in front of him. She was looking up at him with the most unsettling look in her eyes, and alarm bells started to go off in Draco’s head. He turned his attention back to his friend, who was studying him curiously.

“Well I was just coming to tell you that we’re having a victory party in the common room tonight, but the team is all going down into Hogsmeade to pick up provisions in about an hour if you want to come with.” Nott said, his attention seemingly distracted as he spoke.

Draco hissed slightly when he felt a hand wrap around his still-hard cock. Glaring down at her quickly, he watched as the witch laved her tongue across the underside of him before taking his head into her mouth. Fisting her hair in one hand to still her ministrations and bracing himself on the wall with the other, he turned back to Nott, attempting to distract himself from the wonderfully torturous things she was doing.

“Y-yeah sure, I’ll meet you at-“his voice broke suddenly when she hollowed her cheeks at the same time that she slipped her other hand down to fondle his balls. He covered it with the most convincing cough he could muster “in the dungeons.”

“Sounds good Mate” Nott chirped cheerfully, a wide grin on his face. Without another word, his friend turned on his heel and exited the locker room. Once again alone, he turned his gaze down to the floor so he could glare at the devious little witch on her knees. She released him from her mouth with a loud pop as she tilted her head up to smile at him innocently.

“Oh no love,” he told her, tightening his hand in her hair once again. “I’m almost there, you’re going to finish what you started.”

“Hmm,” her smile twisted into something much less wholesome as she forced her way to her feet. “I don’t think so, if I did that then I wouldn’t be properly getting revenge for what you did in potions yesterday, would I? I mean if orgasms are only for good witches, I can only assume that that rule applies to wizards as well.” She smiled at him triumphantly before she walked out of the shower stall and completely out of the locker rooms, still dripping wet.

With a defeated groan, Draco let his forehead thud against the tile wall of the shower and let out a frustrated breath before he turned his shower to icy cold in hopes to return some of his blood to his head.

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