Stepping fully into her room, Hermione casually thumped the books she'd been carrying under the crook of her arm onto her bed, still holding you aloft, "A bit of trivia for you, Draco: Did you know, there actually is something to all that 'pureblood' nonsense you and your Slytherin cronies are always droning on about?" She mischievous crook in her smile hadn't faded.
"What are you prattling about, Granger? You...you let me go, right now!" You'd tried to inject some authority into your tone, but as your vocal cords were on par with a mouse's at the moment, your indignant squeaking fell on deaf ears.
Hermione set you down alongside her books on the mattress topper, pulled her wand out, and with a flick of her wrist cast a bodybinding curse on you before continuing, "You see, in the same way that magical ability is largely genetic–the occurrence of Muggleborn witches and wizards is much lower than that of squibs–magical attunement also favors so-called pureblooded individuals."
As you watched along the lower edge of your vision, frozen stiff as a board on her bed, Hermione begin to casually strip. Her black-and-maroon robes came first, pulled up over her head before she heaped them onto the floor.
"That is to say, someone like you from a family like the Malfoys is much easier to enchant than someone like me with a pair of dentists for parents."
Crossing her arms, she pulled the t-shirt she'd had on under her robes up and over her head, revealing a smooth, pale-skinned belly and perky chest held in by a small–and surprisingly–lacy bra.
"You're much easier to cast charms on-" her jeans were unbuttoned next as she shimmied them down over her legs, the matching lace of her panties all that remained to cover her bottom "-and consequently, much easier to curse."
Striding over to her bed to lean over you, Hermione's unexpectedly nubile figure loomed fully into your field of vision. Much to your frustration, the body-bind curse holding you in place had done nothing to stop your now thumbtack-sized erection from stirring, and you had no clothes to hide it.
"Aw, isn't that cute?" Hermione teased, the caramel curls of her hair dangling over you as she peered down, "Have you got a kink for dominant mudbloods, little Malfoy?"
She turned around, hovering the milky curves of her panty-clad bottom over you as she ran her hands up her thighs and over her cheeks teasingly, "I bet you've thought about me, haven't you?" Her hips gave a wiggle, gently bouncing her relative mountain of ass above you, "Have you masturbated to me, Draco...?"
Hermione had always been a nuisance to you, ever the indefatigable know-it-all, but the heat rushing to your cheeks made the truth undeniable. She was right. Not just once, but quite regularly you'd imagined pinning her down over a library desk as you held your cock in your hand. You'd humped away at your own palm, dreaming of whispered insults in her ear, and the way you would pull her skirt up and take her...
...in your fantasies, however, you had always been the dominant one. Now, as you stared up at the cleft between her thighs, tantalized by the delicate ripple of fabric that hid her womanhood, you were utterly at her mercy. All she had to do was lean back, settle herself down onto you, and she could end your life.
"Hermione, you...you can't do this..." Even in the quiet room, your voice was barely a whisper.
Above you, Hermione turned suddenly, replacing your view of her backside with her face once more, "Did you say something, little pet?" She bit her lip, eyeing your diminutive erection again and the crimson blush on your face with a smirk, "I think he likes it..."
"Well," she purred, reaching to the side and producing her wand from her heaped clothes, "then you're going to love this..."
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