Yes, Draco (Dramione BDSM) (Completed)

Chapter 1: Draco Malfoy

Malfoy sat in his fathers wing-back armchair, overlooking the sprawling garden of Malfoy Manor. For a year, he had spent most of his time after Hogwarts cooped up in his mansion, doing some casual traveling, and shopping. He had more gold than he could ever spend in a lifetime, for which he had his parents to thank. After Voldemort was defeated, his parents left the manor hurriedly. They set off to travel, and had purchased several homes around Europe. They said the manor held too many memories, and Draco's father especially wanted to keep Narcissa away from where their final days with Bellatrix and Voldemort had played out.

Now, it was just Draco. He had shunned his friends, the few he had left. He had tried to distract himself with women. Having flings with women in the south of Thailand, California, Paris and Japan. None of them had satisfied his desire. His desire that was quickly turning into something more. An obsession. 

With each passing day, the sneer on his face grew larger, his heart grew colder, and his fantasies grew wilder. He had to have her. He wanted her to belong to him. He wanted to own her. 

Draco shook his head, trying to keep these all-too-regular thoughts at bay. He knew he could never have her - especially in the ways he desired. Hermione was too strong willed - and she was with that disgusting Weasley. His disdain for Ronald Weasley was strong. How Draco wished he could make that red-haired weasel fall off the face of the planet.

And so Draco brooded. 

He contemplated. 

He pined. 

He lusted. 

And now, he had begun to plot.

He knew that Granger would never fall in love with him. She would never willingly fall in love with him. Love potions were out of the question. The company she kept would be all too suspect if he were to use one of those. He needed something stronger. He needed something real. And he needed her away from those he knew would never allow a bond between them to form.

What he had begun to do was drastic, but he felt as though he could no longer control himself. He had tried suppressing his feelings every way he could. He didn't want to tame them anymore.

He knew she had felt something between them through their years at Hogwarts. Yes, he had genuinely despised the fact that she was muggle born - something he had later regretted teasing her relentlessly for. He thought that if he were especially cruel to her, it would somehow make that spark he felt dissipate. 

How wrong he had been. 

That spark had continued to ignite and grow into a full fledged fire that burned within him. She had to have felt something.

Finally, he was going to stop turning his hatred inwards on himself. He was going to stop blaming himself for not stopping her and that Weasley from pairing up. He was going to take what he knew was his, even if she did not know it yet. He knew that she would love him - and if not love him, obey him. She would be his pet. His lover. And he would be her master, her life, her everything.

One of the things that had always drawn him to her was her intelligence. She was so smart - the smartest witch of her age, they said. And that was a rare thing indeed. The other women he had tried to distract himself with simply bored him. They were dull. They played dumb on purpose because they wanted to make him feel smart. They gave in so easily. They broke easily. They were so quick to fawn all over him, to chase him, to try to make him love them. He never even liked them - just used them as a means to an end. He tried to like them, he really did. He spent two whole weeks with one girl that he had met while traveling America. She was pretty, smart (but not Granger smart), and had a sense of humor that he found somewhat charming. However, he was soon bored with her. He had even had the decency to say goodbye - something he didn't usually do. Once he was done with something, or someone, he would simply move on. Saying goodbye wasn't really his style. 

Draco rolled his eyes, recalling how that girl had cried and cried. But then she had begged him to stay, and that... that made him linger, because he liked hearing it so much. The begging. He closed his eyes and pretended that it wasn't this girl whom he never wished to see again. He saw in his mind, Hermione. Heard her voice. Alas, there was no magic in this world that would turn this pitiful American into the Hermione Granger he had pined over. And as for the girl, he had opened his eyes to look down on her tear-streaked face and smiled. "Don't worry," he had told her. "You almost didn't bore me." With that, he had disapparated to a pub for a drink, the image of that girls reddened face and tears still fresh in his retinas. Yet, he felt nothing for her. Although he did think, for a few moments, that if he had never met Hermione, maybe he would have been able to fall in love with that American girl. Maybe.