Malfoy's Great Victory 2 (Patreon)

The first two weeks of his summer holidays were a boring affair, especially considering he had decided to turn himself into a spy. Yet, he was not a Gryffindor, and started acting recklessly just because of it.

For someone in his position, boring was a gift. Particularly since he hadn’t even been summoned by Riddle. Instead, he had been contacted by Yaxley, assigning him to work with a group of thugs he was recruiting, whom he named Snatchers, preparing after the takeover of the Ministry.

It was clear that Yaxley prepared it as an insult, expecting Draco to refuse and create a commotion, then he could use it to slap Malfoy family even lower in the Death Eater totem pole. Yet, Draco accepted the assignment immediately.

As it was the perfect way to free the mudbloods — muggleborns, he corrected in his mind with some effort — once they were caught. It wasn’t that he was burning with a desire to save them. His ploy was pretty selfish.

But, he knew that, once he revealed his identity as a spy, he would need a lot of goodwill to save himself and his family from Azkaban. Malfoy name was usually an asset, but this situation was a rare exception. ,

Draco wished that there was a way to prevent the whole ministry debacle, as managing it would be a hassle, but there was none. Without Dumbledore to fight him, Riddle was unopposed.

Draco wasn’t delusional enough to think that he could defeat Riddle just because he had Elder Wand. No, apparently, that was Potter’s job due to some kind of prophecy. Draco didn’t trust much, but he could still use time to practice his magic.

He might not be strong enough to defeat Riddle immediately, but what about a year later, once he properly utilized Elder Wand. It was why he embraced the monotony of disappearing, repeatedly sneaking back into Hogwarts to use the Room of Requirements for practicing.

That monotony was broken by a magical alert, but despite his spell practice being interrupted, he smiled. It was the alert spell he put on the dead-drop location he created for Granger.

“Good, she isn’t scared by the note,” he said, putting on a domino mask that covered his upper face. As far as masks went, it wasn’t too very reliable, but he trusted his enchantments on it, one that would make it difficult for Granger to connect his disguise with his real identity.

It wouldn’t hold forever, but that was the point. He was spying to create a chain of evidence, so that once Tom Riddle died, he wouldn’t end up in Azkaban. With Elder Wand, he could escape, but he didn’t want to live as an outlaw.

The dead drop location was in a random, inconspicuous alley in Muggle World, in an abandoned warehouse district where no people visited anymore. It wasn’t a location Draco liked to visit, dreary even by muggle standards, but avoiding stumbling upon any Death Eater was more important.

He approached three blocks away and approached on foot, casting several detection spells to identify everyone around the deaddrop location.

She was alone. Excellent.

He approached from behind her, his wand already in his hand. Granger was in the middle of the alley, right next to the dead-drop spot, waiting for him. Too bad, unlike the previous visit, she was wearing jeans and a shirt, both loose enough to keep her curves concealed. Since it was summer, it looked like a deliberate choice to protect her modesty.

A little late for that.

“I liked the previous outfit better,” he said as he stepped into the alley.

Granger turned toward him, her wand already raised. “H-how dare you?” she stammered. “You were… That… Who are you?”

“Detention for such silly questions, Miss Granger,” he replied smugly.

Her flash of annoyance was strangely amusing, Draco found. “What do you mean, silly questions?” she said, her earlier hesitation already turning into annoyance. “They are very valid, and very important questions.”

“Are they?” he said. “Let’s go over them. First, why do you think I would ever answer the question asking me my name. I’m wearing a mask for a reason.”

“It might be, but —” she tried to answer, but Draco cut her off.

“Wait until I finish. As for your other question, referring to me catching you naked. I didn’t ‘dare’ anything. I wanted to play my role as an undercover agent to give you a dossier of information you desperately need. It’s not my fault you wanted to play with yourself in a public space.”

Just like that, her confidence disappeared, replaced by a thick blush. “I …” she stammered, trying to reply, which she failed to do. “I’m sorry.”

Draco smirked. “Oh, no need to be sorry. I have enjoyed the show … immensely. It was an unexpected perk for the risks I am taking.”

It was fun to see Granger unable to speak. Usually, she was the one who talked until his ears hurt, turning every class into her private show. “Why are you here?” she asked.

“The same reason as you,” Draco replied, his answer long prepared. “I was working with Dumbledore to spy for him. I’m also one of his contingencies, responsible for feeding information to Order in case of his demise.”

“Why me?” Granger asked. “Why not Harry, or McGonagall?”

“Because he’s rash and reckless. I don’t want to die because he decided to follow a last-minute hunch. As for McGonagall, she’s being watched, like any other critical order member. I can’t deliver information safely unless I step into the Grimmauld Place, and doing so would risk my identity in other ways. I can’t risk one of the older members spilling my name.”

“We don’t have traitors —” she started.

“Snape,” he cut her.

“Well, except him,” she tried to add.

“So, I should trust Mungundus Fletcher to protect my name when he eventually gets caught by the Death Eaters,” he said. “Or, should I bet that Hestia Jones would be able to resist torture?”

He could see that she bought his argument. “You can continue wearing your mask,” she still countered.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “The moment Death Eaters realize they have a spy that could access critical information, they would start searching for the leak, making it riskier. The best spy is one whose existence is unknown.” She didn’t look convinced, but he stopped her with a gesture. “Unless you attack me and rip my mask, you won’t learn my identity. Cut it,” he said.

“Maybe I should,” she started, raising her wand halfway.

That was all he needed to counter-attack. A disarming spell dealt with her wand, followed by ropes wrapping around her. Her eyes widened, her mouth gaping. “Don’t threaten a spy, ever. Not even as a joke,” he said as he walked toward her.

“Fine. Message received,” she responded, tense. “Now, let me go.”

“No, think of it as a detention,” he mocked her. “You made a mistake, and that’s your punishment. That’s how you will learn.”

“This is ridiculous!” she responded, her tone heating up.

Draco could feel that the hold he had on the situation was slipping. He threw a distraction. “Is it?” Draco replied. “Don’t you want to learn more about Horcruxes?”

“I do,” she said.

“Then, you have to listen in this position. That’s the only way you will learn,” he added. He was pushing his luck. That much he knew, but it was fun to watch her squirm in the ropes. Especially since the ropes had the welcome side effect of pushing the fabric of her clothes closer to her body, revealing her curves.

It wasn’t as beautiful as the show he had stumbled on the last time, but enough to make the following talk entertaining. “So, the Horcruxes,” he said. “I know there are supposed to be seven of them, two of them already destroyed, a diary and a ring.”

“You know all that?” she said, gasping.

“Yes. Dumbledore explained all to me to make sure you have support,” he said. “I also know that the night he was assassinated by that coward Snape, he went to pick the third one. But, I don’t know if it’s successful.”

Draco already knew that it was fake, including the note hidden inside, but he didn’t reveal that part. No need to clue Granger about him listening to their private talks.

She looked hesitant at first, but then she spoke. “No. It was a fake. Someone else had already breached the place and replaced it with a fake.”

She didn’t mention the note, and he didn’t push her. “That’s unfortunate,” he replied, conjuring himself a chair and sitting down. “Still, I have some ideas about where the rest of the items could be. Let’s talk.”

“Sure. Just get rid of those ropes first,” she asked. Draco was about to do that, but there was a hitch in her tone. One that made him feel surprisingly daring.

“Not yet,” he said. “You still need to be punished.”

“What are you—” she started, only for him to pull her to his lap, face down, her belly pressing to his knees. “You can’t be serious!” she declared, too shocked to say anything else. But, while she was shocked, she wasn’t furious. Though he expected it somewhat, it still surprised him. Any other encounter, she was quick to explode. But now, his identity hidden, she accepted it much more easily.

He would have assumed it was her hatred of him due to their many unpleasant encounters, but that didn’t make sense. He had seen her interact with the others, from acquaintances to friends, and she had always been domineering…

No, not always, he realized. Not when she had been dealing with the professors.

How interesting…

Draco decided to push further, curious how much he could push his luck. He was taking a big gamble, based on a few whispers of fantasy he heard while she had been playing with herself, but he found that risk strangely arousing.

Something he never imagined to experience anywhere related to Granger before that fateful show in the library.

“Oh, I’m deadly serious,” Draco responded, then cast a spell to conjure a paddle. He would have loved to use his hand, but it was too early. “Think of it as a punishment for violating the library. It’s my role to punish you for that disgraceful behavior so that you don’t repeat it!”

“You can’t be serious!” she gasped.

“But I am, Miss Granger. One of the best students of the school, and pride of muggle-borns. Imagine the impact you would have on the rest of the students if you were caught shamelessly playing with yourself in the library. Someone might even question if you earn your grades properly, or…”

Draco was just talking nonsense to fill the time, which was why he was shocked when he felt her suddenly still on his lap. “They can’t think that. I earn my grades by working hard. Not by … that!”

Her sudden shift in attitude surprised Draco. He knew that she took her grades seriously, but he had no idea it would be enough to make her ignore her current situation to actually focus on that.

“I know,” he said as he brought down the paddle, landing on her back with a meaty thump, harder than he first intended. He was pushing his luck, but her reaction was too interesting to ignore. “That’s why you need to be punished. Not just for your own sake, but for the muggleborn movement. You can’t give purebloods a strong weapon like that.”

“Still —” she said, but that was all she was able to say before her voice faded under a blow, her words fading away.

“No argument,” he replied, fascinated by the speed her arguments were fading away. He spanked her again. “Now, let’s talk about the possible locations for the Horcrux hunt. At least some of them have to be given to the significant Death Eaters. Let’s go over one by one to create a reliable shortlist. For example, Rockwood…”

With that, Draco started giving a needlessly lengthy description of each Death Eater, with enough details to keep her obedient, even when he delivered occasional blows with the wooden paddle. Though, soon, it became a challenge not to push the situation too much, his arousal begging him to switch to his hand.

He managed to ignore that temptation. He had already pushed the situation too much, and he couldn’t afford it backfiring. A decision got harder and harder as she started squirming on his lap, showing that he wasn’t the only one enjoying the situation.

Granger turned out to be surprisingly kinky. He enjoyed every helpless tremble under his touch, barely suppressed moans adding a beautiful muffled timbre to her tone while she asked her questions about Death Eaters.

Maybe there wouldn’t be any harm if he pushed his luck a bit, especially if he avoided any dangerous spots. He pushed his free hand through her hair, gently massaging her scalp, contracting it with the blows.

A great success, making her squirm even more. She had to bite her lips desperately, often interrupting her words. She trembled under my touch even more, her arousal rising quickly to suppress the absurdity of the situation.

Her authority kink was even greater than Draco had expected. How he wished that he could let his hands dip down, sliding down to her breasts, massaging her soft flesh to bring her to completion.

But, that was too early for it.

“That’s all we have to discuss for today,” he finally said, casting a spell on her to bring her back on her feet, another spell dispelling the ropes and floating back her wand.

“T-that’s it?” she stammered, her blush thick enough to match the hair color of a Weasley.

“Yes. We have already determined which Death Eaters I will secretly interrogate. I have to check them before we meet again in three days. So, that’s it.” He smirked. “Unless, of course, you want to give me another show.”

Her blush only intensified. “Drop dead, bastard,” she growled, but her anger was performative, weak, filled with arousal.

Her wand rose halfway, but he was faster. “Don’t raise your wand at me if you don’t want another punishment session,” he warned.

“I — I don’t,” she gasped. “I was going to apparate away.”

“Good,” Draco said. “Before you go, one last thing.”

“What?” she asked.

His smirk grew. “Wear something sexier, Granger. You have the body for it.” Her flash of shock was beautiful.

Too bad she immediately disappeared afterward. Still, Malfoy smiled widely as he left. It had been a spectacular mission.

Being a spy was surprisingly fun…