Written by - magdalena2122
You can find them here! - http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1381608/
There's no harm in experimentation, right? Even if it is with Polyjuice? That's what she told herself, at least until she was caught nicking hair from a certain blond pureblood. Alternate endings! Granger Enchanted Christmas 2009 Challenge.
Three Parts
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Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Harry Potter universe, nor do I claim to. It all belongs to JK Rowling.
Draco Malfoy was whistling cheerily to himself as he strolled out of the Leaky Cauldron and into the bustle that was Diagon Alley at Christmastime. Normally, returning to work after lunch wasn’t cause for excitement, but it was Christmas Eve, and his good nature was being aided by the healthy dose of firewhiskey he’d consumed with his meal. It was the perfect amount: just enough to make him feel heady and sublime all over, but not so much that he was stumbling over his own feet.
No, today was a good day! And returning to Flourish and Blotts to finish payroll sounded splendid! Even going over next week’s schedule with his head of staff, pain-in-the-arse Hermione bloody Granger, would be a delight! Neither his stride nor his whistled tune was broken as he entered his recently acquired bookstore and shot off a brisk wave to the witches who were closing down the front of the shop. In fact, both remained uninterrupted until he entered his office and was rewarded with the sight of a round, ample bottom encased in a charcoal grey pencil skirt.
His whistle lowered into a catcall. Hastily, the woman who was bending over his chair straightened, and revealed herself as none other than bloody Granger herself. Draco allowed his eyes to travel up and down her curvaceous body in a truly lecherous manner before asking, “To what do I owe the pleasure of such a spectacular view of your sweet little arse today? Is it my Christmas present?”
Granger looked scandalized for a brief moment, but quickly became defensive. “While my arse may be sweet, you and I both know that it’s not little, so let’s drop the pretenses, shall we? I was just waiting for you… So we could check the schedule, you know, before I leave for the day,” she said coolly, which was a direct contradiction to her disheveled appearance.
Draco assumed that her slightly flustered behavior was due to his overwhelming sexiness. He smirked. “Are you sure that’s the real reason you’re here?” he asked seductively.
Something unidentifiable flashed in her eyes for a second. He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Of course that’s why I’m here!” she snapped. “See, we’re closed for New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, but the day after is usually busy, so I’ve got everyone scheduled.” She gestured at a sheet of parchment on his desk. “Good? Good. Now, I’ve really got to get going. Not all of us rely on house elves to prepare Christmas dinner, you know,” she ended disparagingly.
“Ah, Granger, I suppose you’re right. You have some fire-crotch Weasley to cook for, no doubt.” Draco’s smirk became more pronounced as Granger’s cheeks tinged with crimson. “How is dear Ronald these days?”
Her blush deepened. “Ron is doing well, not that you actually care. And for your information, he’s dating Luna Lovegood, and I’m seeing… Somebody else. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more important things to do than to stand here hashing out my love life with you!” She made to shove past him, and as she did, something fell out of her skirt pocket and clinked on the floor.
Draco’s hand darted out to grab it, but Granger beat him to it. Apparently his Seeker reflexes had been impaired by the firewhiskey, but it was no concern to him. After all, he wasn’t a wizard for nothing. “Accio,” he said smartly.
A small vial whizzed out of her grasp and into Draco’s waiting hand. He turned slightly, holding it just out of her reach. “And what do we have here?”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about! Give it back right now, Draco Malfoy!” she demanded, looking positively panic-stricken.
He chuckled and held the vial up to the light, examining the contents. Three individual strands of hair were inside. Three platinum blond strands of hair. He turned back to her slowly, his eyes lighting up. “My hair, Granger?”
Her face was even redder yet. “Don’t be stupid. Of course it’s not your hair,” she spat unconvincingly.
“I think it is. What could you possibly be doing with three strands of my hair? Are you brewing Polyjuice potion?” he asked, barely masking his glee at catching her doing something so clearly inappropriate.
Granger made an unintelligible sound. She began shuffling backwards toward the door, muttering, “I’ll just be on my way…”
Draco’s smile widened. “I don’t think so.” With a wave of his wand, the door slammed shut. Another flick, and a chair had knocked her legs out from under Granger, forcing her to sit. She clutched the armrests in desperation. There was no concealing her agitation.
Circling her chair like a bird of prey, Draco clucked his tongue in mock disappointment. “I could call the Ministry right now. Who knows what terrible things you may be planning to do while in my body?” he mused.
“Damn it, Malfoy! There’s no need for that,” she grumbled. “I promise you that no harm was intended!”
He stopped in front of her and stared into her worried eyes for a moment. “If not harm, then what exactly was your intention?”
Squeezing her eyes shut against his gaze, Granger sighed loudly. “I really, really would prefer not to tell you. Please, just believe me that I’m telling the truth about not causing harm?”
He casually leaned back against the edge of his desk. “But how can I be sure? I don’t know if your word is enough. Perhaps if I used Veritaserum? Or Legilimency? Of course, then I would have access to whatever information I wanted… Unless there’s something you want to tell me?” Draco grinned wickedly at her obvious discomfort.
A moan of desperation escaped her lips. “I was just going to use it… the potion… for fun. A Christmas present.”
Now he was getting somewhere. “What you mean to say is that you were planning on using my body as a Christmas present,” he clarified.
Staring down at her hands, which were now resolutely clasped in her lap, she nodded.
Draco’s trademark smirk dominated his features. “I see. And were you planning to be the one giving or receiving said gift?”
Granger’s hands flew up to cover her face. “Both,” came the muffled reply.
He contemplated that for a moment. Granger wanted to borrow his body for some sort of wild sexcapades. He couldn’t decide if that was sexy, or if it was disturbing. He needed more information. “Who’s your partner in crime?”
She let out another mournful sound.
Choose your own ending!
For a sweet, unexpected PG ending, proceed to Chapter 2.
For glorious smut, proceed to Chapter 3.
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Part Two - PG Version
“Who’s your partner in crime?”
She let out another mournful sound.
“Is it Potter?” he coaxed.
She shook her head no.
“Longbottom?
She shook her head again.
Who could it be? “You already said that you weren’t seeing Weasley…”
“I said I wasn’t seeing Ron,” she stated.
Draco tapped a finger against his jaw thoughtfully. “I wonder which one of the dashing Weasley men it could be.”
And that was the moment that Granger’s embarrassment switched to anger. “Who said it was a Weasley man? It’s utter bullshit, how everyone just assumes that a woman is incomplete without a man in her life! As if two women can’t find something meaningful with one another!” she burst, staring down Malfoy scathingly. “And yes, sometimes we like to experiment, keep things fresh! Do you have a problem with that?” she challenged.
He gaped at her for several long moments. Finally, he regained some of his composure and shook his head. “No. I don’t have a problem with that.” He certainly didn’t. He had just ascertained that her desired use of the Polyjuice was, in fact, sexy. “You’re seeing Ginny Weasley, then?”
Granger smiled, for the first time in their entire conversation. “For about a year now.”
“So Ginny and the Boy Wonder…?”
“Broke up,” she finished for him. “As did Ron and I, when Ginny and I realized that what we had was special.”
Nodding, Draco let that sink in for a moment. Granger seemed comfortable discussing her love life, now that she had concluded that Draco wasn’t passing judgment. He decided to risk another question. “How well did that go over?”
Chuckling, she responded, “Not too well at first. But they came around, once they saw how happy we were together. Molly, or rather Mrs. Weasley, was a tough sell, but she eventually gave us her blessing too.”
Draco wondered briefly how Granger would respond if he offered up himself to the pair instead of just his hair for the potion. But, after hearing the loving way in which she described her relationship with Ginny, whatever semblance of a conscience he possessed told him that it would be crass.
Instead, he held the vial out to her in his palm. “’Tis the season,” he said, shrugging.
She looked at him curiously.
“Well, are you going to take it?” he questioned exasperatedly.
“Are you serious?”
He nodded.
“You don’t think it’s disturbing?” she asked incredulously.
He pressed the vial into her hand. “No. I think it’s sexy. And next time, all you have to do is ask.” He winked at her.
She rolled her eyes, and then did something that surprised him. Rising from her seat, she leaned forward and brushed her lips gently across his cheek. “Thanks, Malfoy.”
His fingers reached up to touch the spot she’d just kissed. “Happy Christmas, Granger,” he told her with a slightly dazed smile, watching her retreat toward the door.
She paused for a moment before exiting, returning the smile. “Happy Christmas.”
Draco collapsed against his desk, running a hand through his hair. Then he began collecting his belongings. Bugger payroll. The only thing he wanted to do was return to his flat so he could have himself a nice wank.
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Part Three //Lemon version of Part Two//
“Who’s your partner in crime?”
She let out another mournful sound.
“Is it Potter?” he coaxed.
She shook her head no.
“Longbottom?
She shook her head again.
Who could it be? “You already said that you weren’t seeing Weasley…”
“Correct,” she mumbled.
Draco wracked his brain for any gossip he might have read in the Daily Prophet. Last he’d heard, she was single. But she must be dating somebody, or else she wouldn’t need the Polyjuice. Unless… “Do you even have a significant other, Granger?”
Granger blanched.
Grinning wickedly, Draco leaned forward, stopping only inches from her face. “Are you spending Christmas all by your lonesome?”
“That’s none of your business,” she whispered, refusing to meet his gaze. But the melancholy droop to her face answered his question.
A strange feeling pierced his gut. He realized after a few long seconds of analyzing it that it was a combination of things. Empathy, because he too was planning to spend Christmas alone. Triumph, because Granger apparently was physically interested in him enough to want to experience private sensations with his body. Joy, because she wouldn’t be with another man while she played. And finally, lust, because she wanted to do creative things with his body.
“You know,” Draco said, breaking the silence, “I don’t have anyone to spend Christmas with either.”
Granger looked up at him, absorbing his words. “What are you saying?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m saying… I’m saying, why don’t we forget about this argument, forget about the sodding schedule for next week, and forget about all of the stupid altercations we’ve had in the past? It’s Christmas Eve, Granger. Why don’t we put it all behind us, and spend Christmas together?” Waiting for her response, he decided that he was about to be either the world’s biggest prat, or the world’s luckiest man.
She stared at him for almost a full minute before answering. “Aren’t you disturbed by the whole Polyjuice thing?” she inquired.
Smirk back in place, he responded, “No. I think it’s sexy. And damned flattering too, I might add.” He glanced down at the vial still clenched in his fist. “Do you already have the potion brewed?”
Granger nodded. “Yes, the only thing left to add was that,” she said, pointing to the vial that had incriminated her.
“What would you think of a trade?” Draco asked thoughtfully.
She looked skeptical. “What kind of a trade?”
He held the vial up. “A fair one.”
Her eyes widened in shock. Draco waited patiently. Finally: “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”
“Probably,” he drawled. “Are you thinking that I’m suggesting that we trade hair and then see where our more primal urges take us?” When she didn’t respond, he continued, “Don’t pretend you don’t wonder what it would be like. It was only a short while ago that I caught you stealing my hair, after all. This is really just an improved version of your original plan.”
She appeared to be seriously considering his words. Damned if he wasn’t a Slytherin, and a good one at that. Come to think of it… “Really, Granger, where’s that Gryffindor courage of yours?” And Gryffindor recklessness?
Rising deliciously to the bait, she stood up. There it was. “Fine. Let’s go, then,” she challenged. She strode over to the fireplace, grasped a handful of Floo powder, and looked pointedly at Draco. Hastily, he joined her. She threw the powder into the fire, called out her address, and together they stepped into the swirling green flames.
Seconds later, they landed in her living room. Nothing really matched; the furniture and rugs were all different colors and patterns, but perhaps because of that variety, Draco mused, it somehow all managed to coordinate anyway. He couldn’t find a single item that was boring or neutral, and Granger’s flat had the air of a fancy, tasteful bazaar.
She led him into the room, dusting off her clothes as she went. “Well, have a seat. I’ll be back in a moment.” Draco took off his robes and draped them over the back of an arm chair before settling himself on the couch.
Granger reappeared, carrying two large mugs and a hairbrush. She set them on the coffee table and took a seat next to Draco. Here went nothing. He set the vial with his hair on the table in front of her. She pushed the hairbrush in his direction. They looked at one another silently.
Draco made the first move. He liberated several strands of hair from her brush and dropped them into his mug. Following his lead, Granger emptied the vial into hers. Then she stood up and began shucking her clothes, explaining, “My clothes will rip if I don’t take them off beforehand.” A moment later, she stood before him wearing nothing but a pair of lace French-cut knickers.
Not to be outdone, Draco followed suit, stripping down to his silk zebra-striped bikini briefs. Granger started snickering as soon as she caught sight of his underwear. Draco scowled at her and picked up his mug.
Grabbing her own, she raised it to his in a toast before muttering, “Bottoms up.” They both winced as they drank, and then hurriedly set the mugs down before the changes began.
The next two minutes were a blur. Draco groaned as bones shifted and rearranged under his skin. It wasn’t painful, exactly, but it was definitely uncomfortable. His underwear grew loose on his hips, and panic gripped him for a second as he felt his penis shrink and invert itself inside of him. Then, the transformation was over, and his panic was replaced with awe as he peeked into his briefs and found a maintained patch of pubic hair covering his new vulva.
When he finally dragged his gaze upward, his eyes were met with a strange sight indeed. Standing across from him was… Him. Or rather, Granger wearing his body. One hand was tentatively holding the lace knickers open while she peered down into them.
“Little Draco looks better without the panties,” Draco announced smugly, startling Granger. She smiled shyly at him, the expression appearing bizarre on his face, and slowly pulled her knickers off, exposing an erection.
She snorted. “I guess I got hard just looking at my breasts,” she said in Draco’s voice. “Wait, that came out wrong,” she chuckled.
Draco laughed with her, and hearing his feminine giggles, laughed even harder. Soon, they had both collapsed on the floor together, any sense of awkwardness erased. Their limbs were already tangled, and as their laughter died, they found their faces only inches apart. Draco moved in for the kill, closing his eyes to let his other senses take over. As their lips pressed together, Draco raked Granger’s long fingernails down her back in a way that never failed to illicit a response from his body, at least when he was in control of it.
Granger returned the favor by letting Draco’s large hands roam over the breasts that only ten minutes ago had been hers. Gentle kisses morphed into passionate groping, every touch creating a new and spectacular sensation to behold. Their hands never left the other’s body, exploring each other in surreal fascination. In some ways, Draco decided, it resembled masturbation, but at the same time, it was so much more than that. He’d never experienced something so intimate in his entire life. It was amazing. And he couldn’t help but to feel that he was gaining rare insight into what it felt like for a woman to be touched.
In fact, he was really enjoying the sensation that came from Granger’s ministrations on the slick folds he’d borrowed from her. Here was a woman who knew how to pleasure herself, and Draco was definitely reaping the benefits. One of his hands was pumping the shaft in the pattern that, judging from Granger’s ragged breath, worked just as well on her as it did on him.
She responded by slipping a long finger into Draco. He moaned into her mouth, and realized in doing so why women sometimes complained about stubble burn. His mental note to shave the next morning was interrupted when Granger found the G-spot, and began stroking it mercilessly.
He involuntarily tightened around the finger as he upped the ante with his own hand. A few moments later, no longer able to stand the mounting tension, he whispered, “Granger, are you ready?”
She answered his question by grinding her pelvis against his to increase their friction. They lay facing each other on their sides, neither claiming dominance over the other. Draco swung a shapely leg over Granger’s waist and scooted forward until they were positioned for entry. And then the rotten little witch started teasing him. She slid the tip of her manhood along Draco’s opening, capturing some of the wetness there. She repeated the motion several times until he grabbed her bum and forced their bodies together.
Feeling for the first time what his cock did to women, he gasped, arching against her and pressing his breasts into Granger’s chest. It was lovely, if he did say so himself. Of course, it helped that his pussy was so very tight.
The irony of getting fucked by oneself was not lost on Draco, and he grinned with mirth as well as pleasure as a rhythm was established between them. It was glorious, and he wanted more. Fortunately, Granger anticipated his desire, and moments later a thumb was expertly circling his borrowed clit. He was a goner after that.
“Fuck, Granger!” Draco shouted as his orgasm blossomed from within.
Granger quickly joined him in climax as he clenched down on her in lingering waves of ecstasy. After she released her seed into him, they rolled onto their backs, panting. Together they lay in recovery, no words passing between them. Really, what do you say after something like that anyway?
Only after they had transformed back into themselves did they attempt dialogue.
“Wow,” Granger mumbled, turning back on her side to face him again.
Draco was unable to manage anything more eloquent than, “Yeah.”
Stretching to reach the Christmas tree, Granger pulled a candy cane off. “Want one, Malfoy?” she offered.
He nodded, and took the candy cane she handed him. “Thanks… Happy Christmas, Granger,” he said, grinning around his candy cane.
“Happy Christmas,” she responded.
The visual of Granger, nude, with her lips wrapped around a candy cane was making wicked thoughts run through his mind. “Want to give it another go?” he asked. “Without the Polyjuice, I mean?”
Before he could even finish his sentence, she was on top of him, straddling his waist, candy cane and all. Draco smirked up at her. Best. Christmas. Ever.
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