Malfoy's Rope Bunny

The Performance

Hermione

"The arm wrap needs to be moved up, and you can't cinch it that tight," Hermione hissed, trying to keep a worry-free smile plastered on her face. It was a facade.

"Don't tell me what to do, Granger," he muttered.

"I absolutely will tell you what to do, because if I don't it could result in ulnar nerve damage and as you should know, that can be permanent." Her voice was shrill but she took special care not to let it travel past the stage.

Thankfully the music drowned out the noise and no one in the crowd was focussing on their mouths at that moment.

The smooth sensation of rope against her skin calmed her slightly as the next pass of his hands placed two lines of rope under her breasts and around her arms. Before he pulled too tightly again.

"What kind of Dom are you?" she asked, knowing it would push all the wrong buttons. But that was to be expected as she was still processing her presence, topless, on the stage with Draco Malfoy, who obviously had no idea how this tie worked.

When Padma had called her to cancel last-minute she may have panicked. But thankfully, Merla, the art director had someone who she guaranteed was *just as good*. Hermione nearly snorted at the statement now. Draco fucking Malfoy.

"I should be asking what kind of sub you are," he retorted.

"For your information, I'm not a sub. I just find this calming."

"I shouldn't be surprised by that, but for the love of Merlin, let me work. I know what I'm doing."

"If you knew what you were doing you wouldn't be cinching it that tight," she hissed.

"It's not a cinch. It's called a kannuki, *as you should know*," he recited in her lecturing voice. "And your nerves will be fine, Granger. Just trust me."

"Trust you?" Her lip curled up for a moment. "I'm supposed to trust you?" Her voice was laced with indignance.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes. You're the one who decided to do the scene with me, no one Imperio'd you into it so stop pretending you're being forced to do something awful."

A bright spotlight pivoted toward them, and Hermione was blinded to the outside world. The crowd of people clad in extravagant corsets and shockingly provocative dress robes disappeared. It was just her and the man who she had, as he pointed out, willingly joined on stage.

In the next breath, he pulled the rope and swept her up into the air, the weight dispersing itself throughout the rope adorning her and Hermione noted that it was oddly. . . comfortable. No one spot catching the majority of her weight, no pinching or unevenly wrapped rope.

It was, (though she would never say it out loud), quality work.

He moved with a quickness she barely followed, wrapping the line and tying it off so she remained floating a few feet off the ground.

"Any more comments?" he asked, taking a step back and surveying her with a smirk.

"No," she breathed, enjoying the calm, floaty feeling that was washing over her.

"That's a first."

"Shut up."

His hands felt cold as he bent her knee, wrapping a new piece of rope to secure her leg in place and lifting it behind her until her breath hitched from the stretch. He allowed her torso to sink until she was dangling, flying, in a horizontal position.

She wasn't sure why heat rose to her cheeks once she realized this meant her legs were spread wide in front of him. In front of the people at the event, she corrected. She was definitely more concerned with that than how she happened to look to Malfoy.