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A moment of insanity
Draco had been watching her. The girl, her long brown hair tied elegantly and simply in a bun, a few loose tendrils tantalisingly escaping down her ivory white neck, had been sat in front of him for the past half hour. He couldn't see her face, but the navy cashmere sweater she was wearing clung to her shapely body leaving little to the imagination. His mind began to wander into a daydream fantasy that involved the mysterious brunette and himself being found in an entirely compromising position in an elaborately decorated bedroom, his hands cupping her firm breasts, her mewls of pleasure as he…a scream interrupted his train of thought and he shuddered, remembering where he was, his fantasy dissolved. After all, the waiting room of a psychiatric facility was hardly the place. The unpleasant smell of cleanliness and bleach mingled with something unsavoury filled his nostrils, and any hint of desire that had been lingering at the back of his mind was dismissed. It simply wouldn't do to fantasise about some woman who may or may not be completely bonkers. He focused instead on her tense body language, her nervousness as she carefully ripped up the plastic cup she had in her hands that had once held water. The more he watched her mannerisms and anxiety the more he had the lingering feeling of recognition, perhaps she was one of the many women he had encountered on a debauched night out with Blaise, or perhaps a former classmate from Hogwarts, either way his curiosity was markedly increased by this new sense.
The high security facility was making him uncomfortable. He didn't particularly want to be there and to be quite frank he wasn't sure that his father would appreciate his company anyway, so the whole exercise seemed completely pointless. If he hadn't promised his sickly mother when he had last visited there would be no way he would be sat in this sparse room with mystery girl and a receptionist that looked remarkably like she was related to Hagrid. The walls had once been white and mint green, clean and refreshing, perhaps, when they were painted in the 1960's, now they had faded and gained layers of unpleasant dirt. He shifted awkwardly in his plastic chair and couldn't help but snort with laughter. The thought that after everything his father had said and the years of hell that he had subjected Draco to, the great Lucius Malfoy would end up here, in a high security public-funded mental ward that, although wizarding run, would take on Muggle patients as well was just all too amusing. His snort clearly caught the attention of the brunette sat directly in front of him, as she turned, evidently panicked, towards the source. Her face whipped round accusingly and the moment her large chocolate eyes met his grey ones they widened and her mouth changed to an 'o' of recognition.
The revelation that he was staring at the Mudblood princess herself momentarily stunned Draco and this feeling was multiplied tenfold by the fact he found her no less attractive, in fact alluringly more attractive than he had 10 minutes ago when she had just been the mystery brunette. He hadn't seen her since school, what seemed like eons ago, of course her face had appeared in the papers, but he mostly had tried to ignore them and focus instead on reubuilding Malfoy enterprises. The old frizzy mudblood was gone, and in her place was a stunning woman, her teeth straight, her cheekbones shapely and the mane tamed and sleek. His eyes flicked down her body, which had become more exposed as she had turned, noticing the pleasing curve of her breasts and cleavage in the relatively low-cut top. It took him a while to even realise he was staring. Neither spoke.
Hermione was beginning to get impatient. She had been sat in this ridiculously uncomfortable plastic chair for what felt like hours. The unsightly woman at reception had been exceptionally unhelpful and she felt like she was no closer to seeing Harry then she had been when she had arrived over an hour before. Of course, she understood that in this situation gaining visitation at all was difficult, but damn it surely being one of the 'Golden Trio' had to count for something. She absent mindedly twisted at the simple gold band on her left hand, a gesture of habit. A rather destroyed plastic cup lay in her lap and she stared down at it and sighed. The last few months had been hellish to say the least. The beginning of the year she had had everything she had wanted in life, a position in the ministry, a loving husband and close friends, but now it was November, the year was almost up and it seemed that as it slipped away it slowly took everything that was dear to her away. She hadn't seen it coming, his affairs, , the drinking, the violence, Harry's breakdown and that one catastrophic evening where everything had reached breaking point and Harry had tried to protect her, in the madness and the shouts and flashes of light Harry's arrest had followed soon after along with his committal to this wonderful institution with its pervading smell of bleach, school dinners and vomit, the periodic screams of the patients echoing around the bleak corridors. she could see Ron's lifeless body topple down the stairs in their marital home. She was grieved with the loss of Ron, but their marriage had become far from happy, the bruises and late night arguments. For the first time she felt free and had never felt more guilty for feeling so.
She was lonely and aching. As her mind wandered miserably off, she was suddenly bought to attention by a snort. She had been aware for some time of the presence of someone behind her, she had barely spared a glance when he had come in, instead choosing to focus on carefully shredding the plastic in her hands. The snort however, startled her and she turned around to face the man who had been staring at her back, her eyes met Draco's and a curious mix of recognition, disbelief, and was that…desire? She quickly shook the thought, he had clearly grown since Hogwarts and was quite the catch these days, her mind wandered dismissively to the pictures of him plastered over Witch Weekly, seemingly with a different model on his arm each week. There was no mistaking the chiselled jaw and stormy grey eyes alongside the beautiful shock of white blonde hair. For once, Hermione Granger, Gryffindor know-it-all was lost for words. She stared back, utterly transfixed.
The tension in the room seemed to increase ten-fold when the pair were snapped out of their daze by a bored voice loudly informing Hermione that Harry was ready to see her now, if she would kindly go to the end of the corridor and turn right. She blushed, dragged her gaze away from Draco's and fumbled to collect her small brown bag, dropping the plastic cup in the process and watching it casually scatter across the lino floor. She hastily made her way to the door the troll had pointed at and with one last curious glance back to Draco headed through it.
Draco had no idea what compelled him, but as soon as she left, he found himself drawn in the direction she had gone. Without any real awareness or rational thought behind his actions, he darted after her retreating silhouette. His expensive shoes squeaked on the cheap and disgusting floor, catching her attention. For the second time she spun round to find herself alarmingly close to Draco Malfoy. She could almost count his eyelashes as his eyes bore into her soul. Before she could protest or fully react to the situation she found herself flush against the wall, Draco's firm body pressed against hers as his mouth found its way to hers. The kiss was surprisingly gentle at first. No awkward clacking of teeth, just his lips, soft and insistent, He tasted like coffee and tobacco and it was intoxicating. Their actions in that moment seemed to simple, so uncomplicated, a build up of emotion in both of them that was just finding it's release. A moment of insanity.
His body began to press more insistently against hers and his tongue demanded entrance into her mouth, she whined and her arms found her way around his neck as she ground her hips into his feeling his growing hardness through his trousers. Thoughts were tumbling round her mind incoherently, Ron and Harry's face came and went but the desire that was building up inside her seemed to overwhelm any semblance of sensibility.
He growled as her hips bucked up towards his, their legs becoming entangled, as their exchange became more heated. He didn't know why but he needed this and now. Without breaking their exchange, he picked her up, drawing her legs round his waist and slammed them into the opposite wall. His desire was increasing and straining against his jeans uncomfortably. He spotted a supply closet, its door tantalisingly ajar and manoeuvred himself and witch into it, slamming the door and knocking into a shelf of cleaning products. He groaned as he ran his hands across her breasts, feeling their weight through the jumper, it was the first item of clothing to go as he scrambled desperately to get closer to the objects that had been tempting him for the past hours. His lips found her neck and he left a trail of marks as his mouth found its way to her breasts, taking in a pink nipple in his mouth. The noises she made were driving him to insanity. He pulled her skirt up round her waist and felt the growing wetness pooling in her knickers as he tore them away from her body, stroking her he watched as she mewled in pleasure and scrabbled at his jeans, desperate to make contact. He was soon freed from the tight confines of his jeans and boxers, and roughly buried himself deep within her, relishing in her tightness and barely hushed screams of pleasure. Her nails dug into his back as she rose up and down. The mouths met in a messy kiss, a kiss filled with hatred, passion and jumbled complicated emotions that neither could coherently express.
It didn't last long, before he was pulling up his jeans, straightening his shirt, and pulling her in for a chaste and tender kiss, looking once more into those chocolate eyes that so transfixed him. Her eyes were wide, questioning, as the impact of her actions began to swim past the desire that had fuzzed her rational thought process. She opened her mouth to speak but before a word could come out, he shook his head almost imperceptibly and reached out to cup her face.
"A moment of insanity"
He turned on his heel and strode out the door.