Fan Fiction Friday: Hermione and Draco in “Creature Comforts”

diningroom50p20copyVictoria.jpgI’m shaking up Fan Fiction Friday today, in that instead of heading to my regular treasure trove of goodies, I’ve headed to Coloured Grey?the internet’s premier destination for Hermione and Draco fan fiction (every Hermione/Draco fan fiction writer dreams of having their work on Coloured Grey, I’m sure). Thanks to a tip from the vivacious TR reader Red Traveler, who clearly hates me and wishes me ill, today’s Fan Fiction is certainly something to remember, and segues nicely from last week’s tale of the talking ferret in Clark Kent’s pants.

A small, hunched figure crept out from behind the shelter of a pillar and Hermione gasped. The animal, a ferret, cringed at the sound and shivered violently. It edged closer, staring up at her with crystalline eyes so familiar, she clapped a hand to her mouth in shock. “Oh, Malfoy…what happened to you?” she whispered in dismay.

Yes, Malfoy has lost a duel and been transformed into a ferret, and has immediately sought out the blossoming bosom of Hermione.

Now, Draco was anything but white. His fur was matted with mud and filthy clumps of snow that had melted and refrozen until it dragged the floor and hampered his movement. As he drew closer, she could see streaks of clotted blood on his paws and around one of his tiny ears. Hermione, always tenderhearted when it came to the misfortune of others, found her heart breaking for the debased little creature and the man she knew still dwelled within. Drawing out her wand, she pointed it at the shaking animal. “Finite incantatem,” she said softly, frowning when the spell didn’t automatically end the transfiguration. She tried again and he was enveloped in the glimmering sparks of the counter-spell. “That’s strange. What did they do to you?”

Draco looked up at her and for a moment, Hermione imagined that she saw his pink nose twitch in scorn. Slipping off her cloak, she lay it out so that he could pull himself painfully onto it. He was shaking so hard that Hermione could hear his teeth rattling together. As she wrapped him securely in the warm wool and gathered him close, she could feel the rapid patter of his tiny heart against her breast. Draco was quite clearly terrified and in pain and Hermione wasn’t sure exactly what her next move should be.

You know when the writer has actual writing skills, the stories end up being so much worse? This is definitely one of those times.

Hermione lay down and watched the small animal…watched Draco…sleep. Drawing the back of her hand along the curved line of his back, she smiled. He really was a very pretty ferret.
Draco had never been this close to Hermione Granger before. He blinked lazily in the near-dark room, illuminated only by the soft glow of the fireplace filtering from behind the heavy bed drapes. Once the Gryffindor witch had fallen asleep, her breathing slowing and evening out, he edged closer to her, eager for the warmth her body offered. She’d stirred restlessly as he pressed against the fragrant curve of her neck, his nose and whiskers tickling her chin. She smelled so good…like flowers and parchment and India ink, with an underlying muskiness the animal recognized as female.

You know what’s coming?specifically, a small mammal. Hit the jump for the insanity.

His paws were still tender, despite the Muggle concoction she’d rubbed on them, but it didn’t deter Draco from crawling closer, from seeking the warmth of her breasts. These he had noticed. From about third year on, the progression of Hermione Granger’s young body, from slender and flat to plush, soft curves, was unmistakable. He remembered with a twinge of regret sitting with his friends and mocking her for her budding breasts and swelling hips, enjoying the embarrassment that would bloom in her cheeks as she’d clutch her robes around herself and stalk off.

Now, he was up close and personal with the object of his earlier scorn and was he ever thankful for it! Never had he felt anything as soft as Hermione’s skin. She was wearing a long flannel gown that buttoned down the front, but with a neckline low enough that he could see the deep shadow of her cleavage; her heat drew him closer, until he was almost near enough to poke his snout into that damp valley. The scent of her was stronger here, moist and sweet and it was all he could do to not fall on her and lick her from head to toe. With a wry inner grin, Draco imagined Hermione’s good will would abruptly disappear were she to awake and find his ferret self rutting atop her.

If only that were true. Unfortunately, I’ll be the one with nightmares about waking up to find myself being raped by a ferret. Hermione wakes up and is only pleasantly surprised.

Hermione giggled and scratched him behind the ears. Oh, there…that was nice. Draco’s eyes slipped closed as her fingers worked magic on his scalp and back. He arched up as she moved farther down, until she was stroking his tail. He swished it back and forth, brushing over the tips of her breasts and bringing a gasp to her lips. Slowly, he did it again, allowing the end to tease her nipples into instant awareness. Draco looked up at her, cocking his head to the side as if to ask her permission.

She gives the ferret permission.

Given what he considered carte blanche, Draco moved slowly, sinuously, over her body; he wanted to taste every inch of Hermione, to see if the tender, blue-veined skin behind her left ear tasted as good as the puckered, rosy flesh of her nipples. He wanted to know if she smelled as good between her thighs as she did beneath her breasts.

Short answer: yes. Long answer:

Pressing his pink nose against the darker pink of her labia, he nearly swooned from the intoxicating heat of her. He drew back when she flinched, then moved forward again on her breathless moan, nosing through the neat thicket of hair until he was greeted with tart, slippery flesh. In response to the gentle laving he gave her with the flat of his little tongue, Hermione’s thighs fell open wider, her fingers brushing against his head as she parted her lips so that he could have easier access to her.

Hermione came apart, fisting the sheets so tightly that they came untucked from beneath the mattress. Her cries were incoherent and frantic as she spread her legs as far apart as she could; … The fine, white fur of his face was slicked down with her moisture and his ears laid back in the attempt to get as close to her as he could.

I don’t even want to tell you what I cut out; it’s not really that disturbing on a technical level, not considering what we’ve read before, but the fact that IT’S A GODDAMN FERRET easily puts this story in the top five wrongest FFFs I’ve showcased. Anyways, as a good Gryffindor, Hermione knows that fair is fair.

If a ferret could blush, he would’ve done so as he gracelessly humped her hand, seeking the relief that continued to elude him.

Finally, Draco turns back into a human and he and Hermoine have regular sex. But here’s what’s so fucked up to me?that isn’t described at all. The author, Krissy, had no desire to describe regular intercourse between Hermoine and Draco?she really just wants to write about Hemione being fucked by a ferret. That’s it. No regular sex. Just the ferret. See for yourself, although I seriously recommend against it. Now I’m off to simultaneously cry in the shower and drink scotch straight from the bottle. And to cancel that ferret adoption I had in the works.