The Silver Ribbon

The Silver Ribbon

Part I

"Wear it, my love," whispered he. "Wear it always."

"I shall," the breathless female voice answered. "I shall wear it forever. It is lovely-and so soft."

The husky voice replied, "And forever shall last our love."

"Alas," she cried, "Our love must be kept a secret, for if our friends knew, we would be in trouble deep."

"Though our love is in secret, it shall never be in vain," replied the male voice, and two silk lips caressed the soft, supple skin of his lover's neck, hands roaming her body. The misgivings she had at first dissolved; she gave in entirely to the passion that engulfed her body and soul. Her lips found his, and her hands fumbled at his cloak fastenings, and he at hers.

The green scarf, present from her lover, fluttered to the floor unnoticed, as the lovers made love, pure and beautiful as the nighttime sky--

Hermione was so absorbed in her reading she did not notice the tall shadow lurking behind her. When a hand rested on her shoulder, she jumped.

Clutching the novel to her chest, she whirled, faced with an amused Ron.

"Bloody hell, Ron! What are you doing? Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Studying Arithmancy, are we?" he grinned.

Hermione blushed. "I was reading a book...is that a crime?"

Ron grinned. "Of course not, my flower, my dove. I was just wondering what you were doing, and I thought it would be nice to get some time by ourselves?" His eyebrows bobbed comically, and Hermione giggled.

The two had been dating for a bit now, not too long. However, they realized that unlike other couples, it did not take so long to get very intimate, as they had been best friends for years, and knew each other so well.

"What are you reading, anyways?" Ron asked. He snatched the book out of Hermione's hands, ignoring her gasp of surprise and indignation. "The Green Scarf, eh?" He eyed his girl quizzically. "The cover suggests-" he waved his hand meaningfully at the cover, which was of Rianola, the blonde, shapely, striking heroine, clinging naked except for a green scarf which miraculously covered most of her vital areas to a shirtless, muscular, brunet Jean-Pierre, who was her lover, and a black-haired man, grabbing Rianola around the waist and chest, trying to drag her away from Jean-Pierre, "--that this is a romance novel?" He snickered as Rianola lost her footing and stumbled, green scarf flying off to land on Jean-Pierre's head.

He flipped open the book to the page Hermione was on, and goggled. "Bugger, Hermione, are you sure you should be reading this?" She flushed a deeper shade of scarlet, as he read aloud:

"The lovers made love, pure and beautiful as the nighttime sky. The stars twinkled merrily overhead as the surging bodies, full of repressed lust. The cries of pain and gratification of Rianola could be heard, as well as the moans of erotic pleasure rose from the throat of Jean-Pierre.

Rianola uttered soft yelps and murmurs as Jean-Pierre's teeth grazed her navel and breasts, teasing and tweaking her desires, yet never doing as she pleaded. In reply to this torture, she flipped him over onto his back and did things with her fingers and tongue he had never experienced before, new but not unpleasant. As he lifted his head for a kiss she playfully drew away, as he reached for her flesh she shrank from his touch.

"Love, do not tease me," he groaned, as she pinned him to the grass, fingers and lips roaming his body, upper and lower. She grinned a devilish grin at the evidence of his arousal, which was hard against her hips.

Rianola allowed her aficionado to mount her, finally receiving the pleasure she had longed for as he thrust--Hermione what the hell is this?" Ron glanced up and down the page in either disgust or amusement. "Never thought a girl like you would go for this sort of thing!" A grin spread across the redhead's freckled face, and he remarked slyly, "Not getting any ideas, are you?"

Hermione grabbed his shoulders and slammed him against the wall. Her hands grasped at his robes, her left leg propped up between his knees. Kissing him fiercely, her lips migrated to his ear. "Never take my book," she whispered, and grabbed the book out of his limp hand. She got off of her friend, and grinned as he groaned.

"Hermione," Ron moaned, "That was evil."

"Lumos," muttered Hermione. Since she had been interrupted by Ron, she had found it impossible to get rid of him so she could finish the book-which she needed to do in private anyways. A tiny light, enough to read by, blossomed from her wand tip. She was sitting in her bed, curtains drawn around her bed, reading the book. Everyone else in the dorm was asleep.

An hour later, she was on the final chapter, and five minutes later she was finished. Flipping to the back cover, she tapped the summary with her wand. The letters rearranged themselves, and a tiny illustration popped up. Hermione grinned- the words were penned in his writing, the doodle was something he would draw. Squinting, she read the message:

Dearest,

Our one-year anniversary approaches. Use the Revealer I gave to you with this book and rub on the doodle below.

Kisses,

Draco.

Hermione grinned and pulled out a bright red eraser, and rubbed on the doodle of a gift. It grew and expanded, and took more dimensions until it was full sized and touchable.

The gift was lovely: it was covered in silver paper and tied in a silver ribbon. The ribbon seemed like mercury: it was like liquid. She unwrapped it carefully, taking care to not rip the paper or disturb the ribbon. Lifting the lid off the box, she gasped; it contained a lovely set of silver dress robes: A slightly sheer silver over robe with brightly polished clasps- underneath was a silver silk gown; one that was strapless. Silver strappy sandals sat daintily atop the outfit. She smiled, and opened up the card that lay above.

Hermione;

The masquerade approaches: our one year anniversary. Christmas Eve. Wear these, please. The dress is spelled so that when you put it on, it will shape itself to your body as you wish. The whole outfit is spelled like this; to activate the spell you have to use the words "I fancy that (this dress, these shoes, etc.) will (get longer, get shorter, be smaller, etc.)" I will seek a dance with you at the ball. Tie the silver ribbon in your hair, and keep it always.

Love,

Draco

Hermione gazed at the card, and grinned. Today was Christmas Eve.

Ron yelled, "HERMIONE ARE YOU COMING?"

"Ron, maybe you shouldn't rush her?" Harry sank into an armchair, playing with his mask, and rumpling his green robes.

Ron fingered his mask as well, and put it on his face. "I can't believe we have to wear these stupid things," he complained, and tugged at the frayed hems of his frayed maroon robes. Harry grinned and donned his.

"Okay, I'm ready!" came a voice, and a figure descended the staircase to the girls' dorm.

Stunning, thought Ron, as he eyed Hermione: Her hair was done in sleek curls-no longer frizzy (Draco had thoughtfully put an Anti-Frizz charm on the ribbon). Her over robe was sheer silver, and it was long and flowing-the silver clasp gleamed. Her gown, which she wore under the robe, was made of heavy silver silk- it was sleeveless, and revealed a breadth of her bosom. It clung to her body and hips, and a long slit ran up her left leg, showing legs of marble. Strappy high-heeled shoes made her legs seem longer. A mask covered her face, showing her clear blue eyes.

"May I have this dance?" A tall boy bowed to Hermione. She giggled and took his outstretched arm. Seven times she had been asked to dance so far, and Ron was getting jealous.

He wasn't Draco, she knew that much. She would recognize his silver eyes and white-blond hair anywhere. This boy had blue eyes and black hair.

Two dances later, she sat back down beside Ron. He scowled (or at least, he scowled as much as having a mask on can allow), and remarked, "Hermione-you've danced with everyone here but me!"

"Jealous, are we?" A sly smile spread over Hermione's face.

Harry snorted. He, like Ron, had not danced yet that night. Either girls were too shy to ask them to dance, or they didn't find the two boys attractive- especially since Harry's scar was concealed.

A cold hand laid itself on Hermione's shoulder. She turned, startled. She faced a tall, fit boy, with silvery-blond hair, and gray eyes. He was clad in a dark green set of robes.

"May I have this dance, lovely one?" he asked. My, Draco can be such a flatterer, thought Hermione.

"You don't mind, do you?" She glanced imploringly at Ron, who scowled, but shook his head. Hermione was borne away with the mysterious boy.

Dancing closely, they held a whispered conversation.

"You look lovely, Hermione."

"You aren't too bad yourself!"

"Yes, I know-but you are definitely shag-a-licious!"

"Is that even a word?"

"Made it up."

"Obviously."

"So... one year."

"Yup."

"You remember?"

"Of course."

Hermione frowned. "Malfoy," she spat, "this is all your fault."

He sneered at her. "Well if you weren't such a know-it-all, then I wouldn't have had to go there."

"You called me a bucktoothed beaver!"

"A mudblooded bucktoothed beaver."

"I don't have buckteeth anymore if you haven't noticed."

"Old habits die hard."

"Well anyways, of course Harry and Ron would attack you."

"They didn't have to."

"You ruined it-we missed the masquerade this year."

"We just had to do this in front of McGonagall didn't we?"

"Hmph."

"Where are Potty and the Weasel?"

"They served separate detentions-McGonagall wanted us separated-she said we wouldn't be punished if we served detention with people we liked." Hermione made a face. "She said we had to talk it out-resolve our differences."

"Really. I heard her. Crabbe and Goyle are fulfilling their detentions with the Dynamic Duo, then."

"Honestly, they're like baboons-how can you associate with them?"

Draco shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "They listen to me, back me up."

Hermione leaned on her arm. "You can do better."

"I really can't." Silvery hair flopped onto his face, shading his eyes.

Hermione felt moved towards this boy, who looked so lonely and miserable. Her heart surged to him; she moved closer and took his hand.

"I can be your friend."

"You don't mean that."

"I really do."

"No. You don't."

"No-look at you! You're intelligent, have a good sense of humor, and very handsome." She slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing what she had just said.

He looked up, stunned. "You're also very smart-the smartest witch I've ever met."

Hermione blushed and grasped his hand. "You aren't as cold as you make out to be, are you?"

Draco looked at the girl. She had really grown quite pretty, though he hated to admit it. Her hand was warm on his cold one. Her fingers stroked the back of his hand, which gave him odd feelings-ones he had never felt towards anyone before.. He leaned forward and kissed her tentatively on the lips.

She gasped-his lips were cold as ice! Swamped with a desire to melt that ice, she kissed him back.

Harry and Ron met Hermione in the Gryffindor common room. They both looked a bit tousled.

"Get in any fights?" Hermione grinned, ecstatic

"Obviously," Harry grimaced as Ron rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. "Honestly, Herm, why are you so happy?"

"I'm not!" cried Hermione emphatically.

Ron scrutinized his friend. "You look a bit messed up, too. Did you get in a fight with Malfoy?"

"In a way," smirked Hermione.

"OH! Then you won!" crowed Harry. "Why else would you be so happy?"

"Looks like that sod punched her in the mouth," growled Ron. "Look-her lips are all swollen and bruised!"

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth and scurried off to her dorm.

"Where did she go?"

Harry shrugged. "Probably to shrink her lips."

"Okay."

Leaning her head against Draco's chest, swaying side to side, they reminisced until-

"Oh! I know this song!" Hermione gasped as the band struck up a fast paced song. "They played this at a Muggle club in London when I went there this summer!"

She raised her hands over her head, and began to twirl, sway, twist, dip, reel, and whirl her hips to the rhythm of the song. Draco was staggered at this new form of dance. Hermione began to rub and chafe against his inner thighs, hips, and ...er... area. Every time her hips caressed his, he groaned, unused to this new arousal.

He felt an embarrassing bulge in the front of his trousers, and every time Hermione ground against him, it grew. Hermione noticed, and danced harder. She turned and danced closer, so that her body was nearly crushed to his, her bobbing, dipping, twisting right up against him. She swung her hips towards his repeatedly, in a very suggestive manner.

"Hey Harry," nudged Ron. Harry looked up.

"Look at Hermione--over there--no, to the left-- "

"What is she doing?"

"They're practically shagging on the dance floor!"

"Let's go beak it up!"

As Harry and Ron dashed to Hermione's rescue, Draco hungrily brought his mouth down upon hers. Deepening the kiss, Hermione opened her lips, allowing him access. His mouth traveled to her neck, leaving bite marks. She moaned, clutching the front of his robes, desperately.

Suddenly, he was thrown off. An angry Harry and Ron stood over him, between Hermione and him.

"Sod off," retorted Draco. "I was having fun before you two came along.'

Harry and Ron were livid, and made furious moves towards Draco, but Hermione restrained them. "Bloody sod--Herm, get off!--"

"It's okay," she gasped. She looked meaningfully at Draco, saying plainly Go! They'll hurt you!

But Draco had other plans. A look of recognition spread over Draco's face, and he muttered, "Red hair, blue eyes, freckles-- Black hair, green eyes- Bloody hell! Herm?" A disgusted look played across his face. "I was dancing with a Mudblood?"

Hermione looked hurt. It's very convincing, and he needed to do it, but it still hurts, she thought.

"Malfoy?" Harry looked incredulous and disgusted.

"You were practically raping Hermione!" cried Ron, enraged.

Draco sneered. "Like I would do that on purpose. I've been contaminated." Turning on his heel, he stalked off.

Harry and Ron made to go after him, but Hermione laid restraining hands on their shoulders.

A tear trickled down her face. (It was fake, but very credible.) Harry softened.

"Herm, you've got bite and suck marks all over your neck and chest," he pointed out.

Hermione covered herself with her hands and said, "I'm going back to my room,"

"We'll come."

"No!" with that, Hermione turned and fled. Her best friends stared after her retreating figure.

Draco was waiting for her outside. With a swift kiss, they ducked into the room- the Room of Requirement... Disturbing noises follow.

To Be Continued...