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Feb. 24th, 2007 11:57 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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tamingthemuseTitle: Hair Brush
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Rating: PG
Summary: There is nothing like having your hair brushed for you to make you relax...
While she brushed her mop of hair and glanced askance at the mirror, Hermione realized that it was out of control because she hated caring for it. Her hair, that is. She hated brushing it, hated washing it, hated everything about it.
She frequently wondered to herself why she didn’t cut it all off into a more manageable style, but knew in her heart that she didn’t for the plain and simple fact that she liked her long hair. Hated dealing with it, loved the length of it. It was a comforting weight in the winter and easy to pull up in the summer.
The snarls and tangles that accompanied curly hair, however, were sometimes too much to deal with. That, and Malfoy’s repeated taunts about her hair.
That’s what kept her indoors on a beautiful Saturday morning when the others were heading to Hogsmeade. The hex that he’d throw at her hit her hair and twisted it into the snarled bird’s nest that it now resembled in more ways than one. Instead of heading to Hogsmeade for some well-deserved downtime away from school, she was hiding out in the Prefect’s bathroom, trying to smooth her hair into something that looked like hair instead of a hairball.
She was concentrating so hard on her task that she missed the click of the locks as they opened under a wordless spell. It wasn’t until she saw a body in the mirror behind her that she turned to find the bane of her existence behind her. Her mouth opened slightly to reward him with a scathing remark when he plucked the hairbrush out of her hand and turned her to face the mirror with his free hand.
“Honestly, Granger, you would think that you had learned to tame this mop as long as you’ve had it.” Malfoy buried his fingers in her riotous curls as he brushed through it, lock by lock. She tried to keep herself stiff and unyielding, but the sensation of his long, aristocratic fingers combing through her hair and the sensuous strokes of the brush were making it hard to keep her eyes open.
The sensations were hypnotic. He began each stroke at the top of her head and continued down the length of her hair until it ended in the center of her back, the bristles tickling the nerves of her skin. She could feel heat coiling deep inside her as he moved around behind her, his fingertips barely grazing the erogenous spots of her neck and shoulders.
It seemed time slowed to a crawl as she felt the ripples of relaxation shivering through her flesh and creeping down into her bones until her lassitude was complete. She became putty in Malfoy’s hands; she knew that he had power over her at this moment and surrendered completely to his touch.
He felt her surrender and gave her an unseen smirk. “My mother used to say that there was nothing so sensual as having someone brush her hair. Would you agree with that, Granger?”
She could do nothing but hum her assent as he stroked her hair with his fingers, burying them knuckle-deep in the curls that he had freed from their tangles. His other hand stroked the curve of her neck beneath the heavy mass of hair, sending shooting sparks of awareness along her nerves to her groin and making her throb with desire.
She heard the clatter of the brush as it hit the top of the dressing table and his other hand began stroking her as well, kneading knots out of her muscles. He bent down and lifted her hair away from her ear, whispering into the shell with soft puffs of heated breath. “Now, your hair is brushed and you can go to Hogsmeade, Granger. No thanks needed.” His tongue flicked out and traced the bottom of her earlobe, then his hands and tongue were both gone before she could speak or turn around.
She opened her eyes, wondering if it was reality or a dream. It had to have been real; her hair was smooth and lay in rippling curls that flowed over her shoulders and down her back like a movie idol.
She looked over her shoulder at the door behind her. Whether dream or fantasy, it had certainly been interesting. For a moment in time, they had peace between them. She hoped there would be more moments like that, if only to explore the residual feelings that still were making her body twitch deep inside.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Rating: PG
Summary: There is nothing like having your hair brushed for you to make you relax...
While she brushed her mop of hair and glanced askance at the mirror, Hermione realized that it was out of control because she hated caring for it. Her hair, that is. She hated brushing it, hated washing it, hated everything about it.
She frequently wondered to herself why she didn’t cut it all off into a more manageable style, but knew in her heart that she didn’t for the plain and simple fact that she liked her long hair. Hated dealing with it, loved the length of it. It was a comforting weight in the winter and easy to pull up in the summer.
The snarls and tangles that accompanied curly hair, however, were sometimes too much to deal with. That, and Malfoy’s repeated taunts about her hair.
That’s what kept her indoors on a beautiful Saturday morning when the others were heading to Hogsmeade. The hex that he’d throw at her hit her hair and twisted it into the snarled bird’s nest that it now resembled in more ways than one. Instead of heading to Hogsmeade for some well-deserved downtime away from school, she was hiding out in the Prefect’s bathroom, trying to smooth her hair into something that looked like hair instead of a hairball.
She was concentrating so hard on her task that she missed the click of the locks as they opened under a wordless spell. It wasn’t until she saw a body in the mirror behind her that she turned to find the bane of her existence behind her. Her mouth opened slightly to reward him with a scathing remark when he plucked the hairbrush out of her hand and turned her to face the mirror with his free hand.
“Honestly, Granger, you would think that you had learned to tame this mop as long as you’ve had it.” Malfoy buried his fingers in her riotous curls as he brushed through it, lock by lock. She tried to keep herself stiff and unyielding, but the sensation of his long, aristocratic fingers combing through her hair and the sensuous strokes of the brush were making it hard to keep her eyes open.
The sensations were hypnotic. He began each stroke at the top of her head and continued down the length of her hair until it ended in the center of her back, the bristles tickling the nerves of her skin. She could feel heat coiling deep inside her as he moved around behind her, his fingertips barely grazing the erogenous spots of her neck and shoulders.
It seemed time slowed to a crawl as she felt the ripples of relaxation shivering through her flesh and creeping down into her bones until her lassitude was complete. She became putty in Malfoy’s hands; she knew that he had power over her at this moment and surrendered completely to his touch.
He felt her surrender and gave her an unseen smirk. “My mother used to say that there was nothing so sensual as having someone brush her hair. Would you agree with that, Granger?”
She could do nothing but hum her assent as he stroked her hair with his fingers, burying them knuckle-deep in the curls that he had freed from their tangles. His other hand stroked the curve of her neck beneath the heavy mass of hair, sending shooting sparks of awareness along her nerves to her groin and making her throb with desire.
She heard the clatter of the brush as it hit the top of the dressing table and his other hand began stroking her as well, kneading knots out of her muscles. He bent down and lifted her hair away from her ear, whispering into the shell with soft puffs of heated breath. “Now, your hair is brushed and you can go to Hogsmeade, Granger. No thanks needed.” His tongue flicked out and traced the bottom of her earlobe, then his hands and tongue were both gone before she could speak or turn around.
She opened her eyes, wondering if it was reality or a dream. It had to have been real; her hair was smooth and lay in rippling curls that flowed over her shoulders and down her back like a movie idol.
She looked over her shoulder at the door behind her. Whether dream or fantasy, it had certainly been interesting. For a moment in time, they had peace between them. She hoped there would be more moments like that, if only to explore the residual feelings that still were making her body twitch deep inside.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-25 06:44 am (UTC)This was an absolutely lovely piece! As a woman with long, easily tangled hair, I completely identified with Hermione in this situation. *g*
Wonderful use of the prompt - a wonderfully sensual moment. Thank you so much for sharing this.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-25 08:53 am (UTC)Glad that you enjoyed it...and you're very welcome...
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Date: 2007-02-25 01:11 pm (UTC)~Nebula
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Date: 2007-02-26 06:58 am (UTC)Magic is fun! And we have cookies...and beefcake, if the pictures of Dan Radcliffe are any clue...
*snicker*
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Date: 2007-02-28 04:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-28 10:17 am (UTC)