akashathekitty (akashathekitty) wrote in kittyfics,
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The Complexity of Carnal Knowledge, Chapter 10

Title: The Complexity of Carnal Knowledge
Disclaimer: JKR owns anything that is obviously hers. I own the rest. I do not make any money off this.
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Others
Genres: Angst, Drama, Humour, Romance, Smut
Story Warnings: Epilogue? What Epilogue?, Mild Kink, Mild Violence, Polyjuice (Body Switch), Profanity, Psychological Trauma, Smut, Threesome
Warning Note: I do not warn per chapter. What I warn for may be in chapter 1 or chapter 39 and they may or may not be what you expect them to be. If you have a very specific trigger, you can PM me for details pertaining to that specific thing, otherwise tough luck, cookie.
Overall Rating: NC-17
Summary: Through a series of uncontrollable events and deliberate decisions, Draco and Hermione are now, a little more than a decade after the war, both working as Aurors. Draco is a complete git and the only one who'll pair up with him for anything is Hermione. This is suiting her less and less, though, so she tries to open his eyes to all the things that have changed. An open-eyed Draco, however, is a force to be reckoned with.
Extra Note: Thank you to margotlefaye (chapter 1-5), dollfaced and mazvn for the beta and robs55 (chapter 1-7) and filigree (chapter 8+) for the Britpick. You guys rock! You saved this story. :D
Chapter Length: 4,958



* * *


Hermione held her breath, refusing to take it personally if Draco declined taking her again. She'd given him an opportunity to redeem himself and it was entirely up to him whether he was going to take it. She didn't delude herself into thinking he would feel better about this time than he had about the last time, and she knew that he'd probably treat her with the same, if not worse, derision.

The way she saw it, however, was that she didn't really have anything to lose, and she really wanted him inside her in the kind of hard, punishing fuck that his behaviour promised. If he could deliver on that, she foresaw an epic climax that would definitely help her ignore his betrayal and disgust.

She could feel him breathing heavily against her ear, his erection still pressed against her back. 'You're one evil little bitch, did you know that?' he whispered, his voice hoarse.

'And yet you want me,' she replied, not hiding her smirk. 'How does that make you feel, Drakie-poo?'

He reached forward and yanked at her blouse in a manner meant to destroy it. 'Dirty,' he growled in her ear. 'Pathetic.' He pushed the torn cloth and her skirt and knickers to the floor, with complete disregard for her consent or comfort. 'Violent.'

Hermione was getting gooseflesh from the chill of the room. Although maybe it wasn't entirely from the room temperature. Anticipation was knotting in her stomach again, and her every nerve-ending was tingling with it, her nipples hardening at the prospect of even the slightest touch. She wanted it so much.

She heard the rustle of him removing at least some of his own clothes, but he still kept her trapped between the door and his body. She hoped so badly that he would take her here, like this.

His one hand came around, pressing against her belly, and his other hand went to her back, applying pressure, forcing her to take a step back and lean forward, still braced on that damn door. Satisfied with the result, he slid the hand from her belly up to her breasts whilst the hand on her back went down to cup her arse. He leant forward to murmur into her ear, 'This was how you wanted the small ones, correct?'

She mutely nodded.

'Then I guess it'll do for "adequate" ones as well.' He made a casual motion with his hand behind her, and suddenly his finger was inside her. The sensation was so unexpected that she couldn't keep back a moan. 'You're wet,' he observed, moving his finger inside her, making her squirm a bit. 'It's no great surprise, though, is it?' he continued. 'You'd be wet for anyone, wouldn't you?'

'N-no,' she gasped. 'Not--not anyone.' Her anger at the accusation was curiously absent, instead there was just some secret thrill. She was enjoying his anger.

He grabbed her breast hard. 'You're lying! If you can't talk without lying to me, don't talk at all. Is that clear?'

She nodded again, biting her lip. She should argue the point, she really should. But there was something about his voice and the way he touched her that really just made her want to obey him, for fear that he wouldn't continue if she didn't and... she really wanted him to continue.

'Good girl,' he breathed.

The hand on her breast slid down between her legs, seeking out the most sensitive area and playing with her, making her almost weak with the direct stimulation. From behind, he added another finger inside her and she whimpered, unable to help herself.

'Yeah, you like that, don't you,' he muttered. 'You're such a horny little thing.'

'Yes,' she whispered.

'Fucking one guy after another because nobody can subdue the burn for long. Squirming, offering yourself up like a bitch in heat.'

She gasped, not at the words, but at the way the sensations inside her intensified. He stepped a little closer, and she felt his naked cock pressing against her. Oh, how she wanted it. He didn't offer it, though. Instead he just silently kept the fingers of one hand rubbing over her in a circle motion, while the fingers of the other hand slid in and out of her. It was maddening. But not enough.

'I want you,' she finally said.

She was promptly rewarded--or punished, she wasn't sure which--by rougher, faster motions. 'You get what I decide to give you, nothing else,' he said.

Again that odd thrill. She really needed to re-examine her own issues. The feelings inside her were building, soaring... 'Please,' she stuttered, 'I'm so close.'

'Then come,' he said. 'Show me what a good slut you are.'

It was enough to send her over, to have her moan and tremble and contract around his fingers. He groaned as if in pain, but let her ride out the wave before he removed his hands, leaving her feeling empty and alone for the second it took him to finally, finally enter her in one hard stroke.


* * *




The aftershocks of her orgasm were still there. He'd entered her too soon. Suppressing a groan, Draco bit his lip and tried to think of something else. He could only imagine what had damaged her so badly that she'd come from being called a slut. He wasn't really much of a dirty-talker, but he'd been so angry and then he'd sensed that she'd actually liked it. He'd been right. She liked to be told what to do, and she liked to be told she was promiscuous and inferior.

How messed up was that?

And how messed up was it that he'd enjoyed doing it so far?

'Move,' she moaned, squirming against him.

Draco had to grab her hip hard to make her stand still. 'I'll move when I want to, witch,' he growled.

'Yeah? I thought the problem was that you really, really wanted to.' The taunt was ended on a breathy laugh.

He swatted her backside. 'Be nice or I'll leave.'

'You can do that?' She gyrated her hips just the tiniest bit against him.

'Want to find out?' He was bluffing; he really doubted he could. She was so hot and slick and tight around him, and it was all he could do to keep from surging ahead or groaning and babbling like a madman. His hand slid down between her legs again, lightly brushing against her, making her jump from the sensitivity. Still too soon.

Then she surprised him by saying, 'Nah, I suppose being a cold bastard has its perks.'

What? He'd been goaded into having sex with her in some creepy pub who-knew-where, and she called him cold? He couldn't believe what he was hearing--cold was the last thing he was! Fine. Who cared about lasting and making it good for her, anyway? He pulled back and roughly slammed into her again, almost making her lose her balance, and he didn't even give her time to recover from her surprise before he did it again, and again.

Sweet, heavenly bliss. He had no idea how she could feel so good. Maybe it was the way she always got his blood boiling with anger and how she'd unwittingly been teasing him for days with her eyes and her lips and her skin and...

Or maybe it was the way she clearly wanted him to take her. She was making sounds that were definitely from enjoyment and matching him thrust for thrust, demanding more, still taunting him with the feel of her and her scent and...

A desperate groan was ripped from him. He wasn't used to this. He didn't understand this. He didn't understand the sudden fire in him that she seemed to so easily be able to stoke. He didn't like it. It meant he wasn't in control, and he hated not being in control. He hated having this kind of fire for a witch who didn't care about him. He hated her for doing this to him. He hated her for making him respond and making him take her in this tacky, impersonal way in a disgusting little room of a disgusting little pub.

He became rougher with her. Harder. And she liked it. Worse, he liked it. He was going to come soon, and it would probably be as intense as last time.

And he hated it.


* * *




Hermione didn't know what suddenly drove him, what suddenly made him move so hard and fast, driving into her with so much force that she had to use considerable strength to keep enough distance from the door to keep her head from banging against it.

But she loved it.

This was the kind of mindless fuck she wanted.

'More,' she whispered.

'Never enough, is it?' he ground out. 'You'll never get enough.'

No, she wouldn't. Ever. He could pound into her until she was black and blue and she would still beg for more. She'd still want that feeling of his cock sliding into her, rubbing all the right spots. She was so, so close to coming again, and he was relentlessly moving, slamming into her like he was furious with her for making him like this. He probably was. She should make him furious more often.

He reached around and touched her between her legs again, making her gasp. So intense. He didn't keep touching her, though, he just grabbed hold of her hips once again and forcefully controlled her movements to be in time with his, slamming her hard against him as he slammed hard against her. He almost went too deep, hurting her on each thrust, but she didn't care. She loved it.

'Goddamn it, Hermione,' he growled. 'I'm...' He didn't finish the sentence, only moved faster.

She knew. He was close. She could sense the desperation in him that mirrored her own. He slid his hands up to grab her breasts, roughly, without any finesse, and she loved it.

'Come,' he whispered. 'Come for me again. Show me what it's like.'

Carefully placing her forearm against the door so he wouldn't accidentally brain her, Hermione freed up the other hand and reached down to touch herself. It took all of five seconds for the sensations to completely overwhelm her. The tingling in her breasts and between her legs intensified and then suddenly that big knot of tension in her belly tensed even more, drawing all of her being into it, and then releasing it in one glorious rush of ecstasy, making her moan and tremble and go weak in the knees. If he hadn't been holding her up, she would have slumped against the door.

'That's it,' he grunted, still moving. 'Th-that's...' He was breathing hard, but he hadn't come. Why hadn't he come?

He wrapped one hand around her throat and pulled her backwards a bit to nibble on her neck, never stopping. She was so sensitized that she felt herself throbbing, clenching around him... with a gasp, she realised she was coming again. She didn't really want to, but before she could check herself, she moaned and trembled, feeling her muscles clench almost painfully.

He let up a little, but didn't stop moving, didn't stop touching, didn't stop tasting. He wasn't grabbing her hard any more, though; he was caressing her, and his movements were less rough.

She didn't want him to slow down and take his time. She wanted him to come.

Deliberately, she turned her head and caught his lips, kissing him deeply, teasing him with her lips and tongue.

His orgasm was almost immediate.


* * *




The climax was so all-consuming that it took Draco a few minutes to regain full use of his brains again, but when he did, he wanted to punch the wall. He'd managed to stay in control through two of her orgasms and then he lost it on a kiss? He'd wanted to be the one in control. To be the one who decided when he'd come. And once again she'd one-upped him.

She was the one to break the silence as she leisurely bent down to pick up her torn and discarded clothes. 'I knew you were a kisser.'

Not his fault that her kisses were so damn erotic. 'Enlighten me on how you reached that conclusion.'

She shrugged, locating her wand and fixing her blouse before she even bothered putting on her underwear. 'You came on a kiss the last time too. Also, you seem to have a thing for intimacy.'

Yes, because a desire for intimacy was so damn unique. Everyone wanted it except her! Why couldn't she be normal? At least if she were normal, he wouldn't have to feel so damn confused about what was happening to him. 'And who knew you'd be getting all wet from being called a slut,' he shot back.

'You do realise that if you call me that out of bed, I'm still going to eviscerate you, right?' Her slightly shaky voice made him feel ashamed of himself. What was she doing to him? Why... why were they doing this?

He began getting dressed as well. He was so confused and frustrated he couldn't even voice his feelings. He didn't want this. He didn't. Yet at the same time, he couldn't get out of his head that this room had a bed and she shouldn't be leaving like this. 'I won't. And, I mean, I didn't leave you wanting. I could have.' He wasn't sure what he was trying to say, only that he was saying it wrong.

'I just love how men always seem to think that women's orgasms are optional.' She had her knickers and blouse on and was sliding up the skirt. He wasn't sure why this reverse striptease was almost as erotic to him as that kiss had been, but it was.

And... exactly what kind of men had she known? 'I just love how you keep comparing me to men I don't even know. Stop.'

'Sorry,' she muttered.

'I'm guessing it's been so long since you've been with someone worth your time that you automatically assume that nobody is.' He didn't understand it, he truly didn't. She was clever, she was pretty, and she was explosive both in bed and out of it. She wouldn't have any trouble finding a wizard to be with if she tried. Why didn't she try?

'I've been with plenty of worthy men,' she said. She was now fully dressed and looking at him. Her hair was all messed up. People would know what they had been doing. He liked that. Possibly only because he didn't know any of the people downstairs, but he wasn't actually sure.

The wizard she'd been talking to before would know too.

He shook his head. Why did he even care? 'No. You've had plenty of good fucks. Not the same thing. Someone worth your time would make sure you got home ok in the morning.'

'I never spend the night.'

Of course she didn't. He imagined he was very lucky indeed to have the privilege of her presence for entire nights whenever they went out on a case. Not that it was easy to appreciate such a privilege when she hogged the covers and beat on him on principle as soon as she woke. 'He would at the very least offer that you could,' he just said.

'I don't want a man "worth my time"; I want good fucks.'

'I know.' Which was essentially why Draco hadn't offered they could stay the night here. She was done, he was done, she wouldn't see any reason to stay.

Then, with a small wave, she left.


* * *




The problem with wizards like Draco Malfoy, Hermione decided, was that they had difficulties thinking outside the box. She was outside the box and therefore he thought he had to put her back in it. She liked her life box-free.

It wasn't that he'd said anything. He hadn't. But he looked at her when they were both at the office, and she could almost see his thought processes.

She wasn't stupid. She knew very well that he didn't like what they'd done. Or, rather, he'd liked it very much, but he didn't like the context. The only thing keeping him from trying to change said context of their relationship was that she'd--thankfully--let him know in no uncertain terms that she wasn't available for that.

He got credit for thinking the thought, though. It had to be difficult for him to even consider her in a respectable fashion, what with his family and everything.

She knew that sometimes he wanted to say something, but she couldn't be certain whether he had something on his mind regarding what had happened or whether it was something else entirely. He would begin forming the first word of the first sentence and then he'd get a look of supreme annoyance and walk away.

He probably had a difficult time adjusting to the fact that he liked things as they were just as much as she did. He really needed to learn that sometimex sex was nothing more than sex and he didn't have to fix it. Everyone had got what they wanted and it had simply been... a pleasure.

Then one day, she discovered quite by accident that his scent had changed. She'd leant in over him to snatch his ink and froze mid-motion from the shock. His scent only ever changed whenever he was seeing someone--as if he tried to tailor himself to the witch, giving up who he really was. That he was seeing someone so soon came as a much bigger surprise to Hermione than it should have. It made sense, really. Draco was a serial monogamist who spent a lot of time searching for the perfect mate. He was doing the logical thing. Talk about double standards, though. Hadn't he been on her case for going after someone after only a couple of weeks? Typically male. It was all right for him to have fun, but she had to stay home and... have babies or something.

'What's wrong? You got a funny look on your face just now,' he told her, noticing her reaction.

She blinked a few times, trying to remember what she'd been doing. 'Nothing. Could you sign off on those?' She thrust the parchments she'd been cradling in one arm whilst she'd reached for his ink at him.

'It says I witnessed the search.'

'Yes.'

'But I didn't.'

'I know.'

He pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Granger, if you needed backup, why didn't you just ask?'

'Because I didn't. I do, however, need you to claim you backed me up so Harry won't have a fit.'

'Well, I won't.' He crossed his arms.

Hermione gaped. 'Oh, come on, that's not fair! I sign off when you ask me to!'

'I don't ask you to lie.'

'Oh, please. Like you really needed the authorisation for the use of Veritaserum you needed me to co-apply for the other day.'

His eyes narrowed. 'If you didn't believe I needed it, you shouldn't have signed off.'

'Fine,' she gritted out through her teeth. She needed to get away from his stupid fruity scent anyway. Was it apple? 'I'll get someone else to sign off.' She yanked the parchments back and turned away from him.

'You know nobody will, not even Weasley,' he told her, amused. 'But I'll offer you a trade.'

She turned back around to face him and raised an eyebrow at him, not quite breaking their unspoken agreement not to mention what had happened, but mocking him all the same.

He rolled his eyes. 'I'll risk my hide and sign off if you...' he began, pausing expectantly.

She waited, but he didn't seem to want to continue until she'd said something, so she mock-guessed, 'If I do your laundry for a month? Water your house plants? Rub Harry's glasses with perma-ink? What?'

Draco grinned. 'I like the Potter idea.'

'Already been done. A good face peel took care of it.'

'Ah.'

'Just tell me what you want in exchange for your bloody signature!'

'Easy there, Granger. I just want to know what's with that face you made.'

'Oh.' She shrugged. 'I don't like your new shampoo or whatever, that's all. It has a kind of sickly smell to it. Care to sign now?'

He looked at her in way too deep thought for a couple of moments and then he slowly grinned. 'Yeah, of course,' he said, taking the parchments from her. 'And it's interesting that you don't like my soap. I was led to believe that it's quite popular among females.'

Hermione shrugged again, not caring much for this discussion. 'To each their own,' she airily said, making a dismissive motion. 'Thanks for signing these. I do appreciate it.'

He finished the deed with a flourish and handed it back to her. 'Next time ask me to actually do a thing, not just to claim I did it.'

'Aren't you a stickler,' she muttered, nodding her thanks again, and beginning to walk away.

'I just like to do my job well. Oh, and Granger?'

She stopped to look at him. 'What?'

He held out his hands palms up. 'If you want to know about the soap, just ask.'

She hardly needed the details, so instead she walked away.


* * *




Being called into Potter's office usually meant either something very bad or something very good to Draco--the good always coming in the form of a case that took him away from Potter for a long, long time. They both seemed to benefit from those cases. He still resented being ordered around by The Boy Who'd Never Had To Make A Difficult Choice, but most days he managed to ignore who his boss was, and that was about as good as it got.

Potter dumped a file in his lap before returning to his desk. 'Convince Hermione to go, and this case is yours,' was all he said.

It was a heavy file. Heavy files usually meant interesting cases. 'Right,' Draco said, getting up from the chair.

'Is everything all right between you now?'

Draco stopped to stare at Potter, who was making a great fuss out of signing parchments. 'I don't know,' Draco drawled. 'I mean, I would tell you, but if I had something to say, it would probably just make it back to her before I had a chance to talk to her.'

Potter had the courtesy to get pink cheeks. 'I assumed she already knew there were issues.'

'She didn't. Or, well, she did, but because of that, she doesn't trust me and you might as well keep your stinking case.'

At that, Potter leant back to coolly gaze at him. 'It was your decision to go to me, and I had to act in the best interest of this office.'

The office. Not Draco. Nobody ever cared to act in the best interest of Draco. Why should they? He'd only been working his arse off for the past decade, trying to prove himself to them. 'By ignoring my very simple request and immediately sending me out with her!'

'She's the only one that'll have you, Malfoy!'

'So what? You could have just tied me to my desk for a month or two!'

Potter shook his head and sighed. 'You didn't make it clear that it was temporary. I couldn't have tied you to your desk forever.'

Draco sneered. 'You War Heroes are all the same. It's all great drama and forever or never to you. You have no clue how regular people work!'

He threw the file down and was halfway out the office, before Potter said, 'Just ask her!'

Ok. Fine! He'd ask her. He made a beeline for Hermione's cubicle, thankful that she was in. 'Been to Potter's office. Was asked if you'd go on a case with me or not.' He could hardly have made his enthusiasm more clear.

Hermione looked up. 'Well, good morning to you too. Why are you so cheery?'

He stared at her. 'Been to Potter's office...'

Her lips quirked. 'Right. At some point you need to get over that you work for him, you know.'

He made a dismissive gesture. 'I just need to know if you'll go, don't need a lecture.'

'What's the case about?'

'No clue.'

'That sounds promising.'

'Yes or no, Granger.'

She paused, considering, a thoughtful look in her eyes. 'Do you want to go?'

Draco sighed irritably. 'This isn't about whether I want to go, it's about whether you do!'

'What if my response depends on yours?'

'Yes,' he ground out. 'I haven't been out on a decent case in ages, all right? I'm bored.'

'Hmm...' She pursed her lips. 'Let me read the file and then decide.'

He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at her. 'You already decided.'

'No, Draco,' she said, 'I haven't. If it's a really good one, I'll go. If it's not, then I'd rather stay at home than risk getting stuck in some deserted place with you all through Christmas--again.'

'That was years ago,' he muttered.

'Yes, and you were right charming. Forgive me if I don't want to spend Christmas with the Grinch again.'

'The who?'

'You.'

'Ah.' He shrugged. 'Does it really matter that much?'

'Let me put it this way: I might have to kill myself if it happened again.'

Draco frowned. This was hyperbole at its best. He hadn't known Hermione to be quite that dramatic. 'So you had to exchange gifts with your friends and family on another day--big whoop!'

'It has nothing to do with presents and everything to do with Christmas.'

'I thought Christmas was about giving and receiving gifts.'

'I almost feel sorry for you,' she said, making him glower at her, 'but this exactly is why I want to avoid getting stuck with you for Christmas. I want to be home with my family for warm and cosy fun times, not off with you, cold, hungry, and bickering.'

Like he wouldn't be more comfortable at home as well in that scenario! He just didn't understand the big fuss. Christmas was merely another one of those holidays. Maybe he'd want it more once he had his own family, but he didn't, and she didn't, and there was no reason to be so condescending about it.

'The file is on his desk,' he clipped out. 'Make up your mind and let me know.' Then he turned his back on her and went to his own cubicle to do some more lovely paperwork.


* * *




Going on a case with Draco in December would probably be a really bad idea. They wouldn't be able to take a break for the holidays if it drew out and she really wanted to watch the look on Harry's kids' faces as they unwrapped her presents. Not to mention that she was overdue for a visit home and her mother made the best Christmas pudding in the whole world.

She couldn't go. She really couldn't.

Except a young witch was missing and if they went now, they might find her in time for the holidays.

Damn it.

What would Draco's new girlfriend say to this mission? She probably didn't know that Draco and Hermione had... well. No reason to tell her, either, she supposed. It wasn't like they couldn't be professional. After all, they had been professional for several years now.

'Keep frowning like that and you'll get wrinkles. Well, more of them, anyway.'

'Why are you pestering me while I'm thinking?' she growled. 'I thought I was just going to let you know what I decided.'

'Yes, but it's been two hours since you picked up the file. I got tired of waiting.'

She looked up at him, still undecided. He wasn't the cheating kind. If they went, it would be strictly platonic. Like before. It would be a good chance for her to show that everything was like before. And also, it would be a good chance to try to work on his social skills so he could get another partner. Harry had made it clear to her that if nobody was prepared to partner up at least semi-regularly with Draco by February, then he would start the proceedings to get Draco transferred to another department within Magical Law, and he would probably never see another field case again.

'If we get stuck for Christmas, I'm expecting a very expensive present,' she dully said.

He grinned at her. 'Deal. What made you decide to go?'

She shrugged, carefully closing the file. 'There's a young witch missing. Her family will be devastated if we don't find her.'

Draco's grin faded. 'You know they might be devastated even if we do.'

'I know.'

'Last time we found a body--'

'I know. It happens. It's part of the job. It can't all be fun and games and free holidays in the Lowlands.' She didn't need him to tell her how the family had reacted the last time they'd found a body, let alone how she had reacted. He hadn't dealt that well himself.

There was something about finding a dead child that kind of undid a person. Even more so when it had obviously been a painful death.

'If we're lucky, she merely doesn't want to be found.'

'Yeah, I know.'

'We pack now?'

She nodded. With any luck, it wouldn't even be dark by the time they got there.


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Tags: character: draco, character: harry, character: hermione, character: other, character: ron, era: post hogwarts, fic: the complexity of carnal knowledge, genre: angst, genre: drama, genre: humour, genre: romance, genre: smut, length: chaptered, pairing: draco/hermione, rating: nc-17, warning: ewe?, warning: mild kink, warning: mild violence, warning: polyjuice, warning: profanity, warning: psychological trauma, warning: sexual situations, warning: threesome
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