A Sin to Hold Onto

Author's Note: I was inspired by this situation I'm in at work. Starting this, I have no idea where I'm going with this one-shot. Hopefully I can finish it without any difficulty, and without it sucking. Lol. Enjoy!

I don't own any of the characters, and Emery owns the title, which comes from their latest CD, In Shallow Seas We Sail.

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I glance up from my library book to find that I am once again being stared at. I huff in indignation and bury my face further into the book on the history of magical monarchs throughout Europe. One thing I hate more than getting a horrible grade is being stared at – by my enemy, especially.

Yes, Draco Malfoy has been staring at me ever since school had resumed two months ago. It's beginning to grate on my nerves just a bit. I can't think of a reason why he is staring, other than to annoy me, and I would not put it past him. After all, he is Malfoy, and he's always been rather frustrating.

I can find no solace from his intense gaze. Every time I look up, whether it is in class, at dinner, or in the library, he is watching me so intently that it's like he's trying to burn me with his eyes alone. It's unsettling, and as I look up from my book again to see if he is still doing it, I realize how annoyed I really am.

What gives him any right to stare? As he's said countless times before, I'm a mudblood, making me automatically filthy and beneath him, the almighty pureblood. Yet, why, when I catch him staring, does he smile?

It's not his usual vindictive smile, either. It's softer, a little less devious, and definitely not something I'm used to. It's the kind of smile two people share when they have a juicy secret that only they know. A knowing smile. But what do we both know that would cause him to look that way at me?

My library chair used to be the only place I could go to that he wouldn't watch me in, but tonight, he has found my hiding spot in the back corner of the large room. How he did I will never know. Not even Ron, my boyfriend for Merlin's sake, knows where my little nook is in the library. Malfoy must be stalking me.

I want to put him in his place and tell him to bugger off, but a small part of me likes the attention, no matter how much I loathe admitting it. I can't deny that he is attractive, with that long white-gold hair and piercing storm colored eyes. But he's Malfoy! I'm supposed to hate the very ground he walks on, not drool over his appearance.

In that second I realize I have lowered my book and am now staring back at him, my eyes ablaze with annoyance. The half-smirk half-smile on his face is an indication that he did see me staring back. I blush furiously and once again hide behind my large tome. I feel utterly ridiculous, gawking at him like the underclassmen.

He definitely isn't a boy anymore. He grew tall, his limbs less skinny and more toned, and his features less pointed. I can see why girls fawn over him all day, but I'm supposed to be more sensible than that! I'm aware that he's very well trained in Legilimency, and, being a bloody Death Eater, probably listens to Ron, Harry, and I like a hawk, but I don't think about him that much, do I?

I lower my book yet again, this time staring at the floor in front of my chair. Sure, I think about him when he stares at me, and sometimes during class when he answers a question before me, and at meals when he walks into the Great Hall, and maybe during class changes when I see him in the… Oh, dear Merlin, I do think about him a lot.

I raise my eyes to meet his and the smile on his face is so attentivethat I know he is accessing my mind. I had been warned about him being the eyes and ears for the Dark Lord in Hogwarts, but I had severely underestimated him. What if he knew everything about the Order? Where Grimmuald Place is?

Panic surges through me, and his grin only widens. I gasp and drop my book, the thud echoing throughout the cavernous room. Malfoy leans back in his chair, and his low chuckle barely reaches my ears. I blush again, this time out of pure rage, and pick up my fallen comrade.

I put up the barrier in my mind and close off my thoughts to him. I hear his sigh and carefully peek over my book to see him pick up his own and open the leather cover. The panic I had felt early is replaced by relief and I'm soon lost in the pages of history.

Only a few pages later and I'm back to thinking about him, though. He intrigues me. He always has, I suppose. I've always felt he had another side to him, one that, despite hating everything about him, I'd love to see just once in my lifetime.

Just a few seconds after I pass that thought through my head, I hear footsteps approaching me. My blood runs cold as I look up and see him standing in front of me. Normally I'm not speechless around him, but the look on his face knocks the breath out of my lungs. The intensity in his gaze is alluring, and the way his face softens once my eyes meet his cause me to shiver in anticipation.

We don't speak. What could we say? His eyes say all that really needs to be said, anyway. He knows my thoughts, my feelings, my desires. And through his eyes I know his, even though his frown suggests that he wish I didn't. I set my book on the chair as I stand up. He takes a small step toward me as I do the same, and soon we're but a few inches apart.

I realize my barrier had obviously not been enough, because the seductive look he's sending me says it all. Before I can open my mouth his hand is tracing its way down my cheek to my lips, where he rubs them gently. I lick my lips, my tongue lightly touching his index finger, and I'm surprised to hear him gasp quietly.

His eyes, which had been trained on my lips, snap back up to look into mine, and before I can tell him to stop, that we're bitter enemies and that I hate his guts, he's kissing me with such a passion that my knees begin to weaken. I don't know if I even would have said no, or even stopped him if I could. The dangerous part of me has always been attracted to him, and he must have finally found out.

His kisses are so unlike Ron's – they leave me wanting so much more. He hardly pulls away an inch before I press my mouth to his again as though I need him to breathe. His arms are tight around me and it feels so good. Despite his eyes being so cool, his body is on fire, and I'm beginning to burn.

I use this moment to take full advantage of him and his open mind. Behind my closed eyelids I see images of a young Malfoy, of him being beaten, of him watching me at dinner, wondering what it would be like to kiss me. He brings up his barrier again, and it is my turn to wonder if he did it on purpose, to show that his intentions on kissing me are sincere.

Our tongues dance around each other, vying for access into each other's mouth, and he hoists my leg up around his waist. I shudder with pleasure at our contact and wish so badly to be in a private place with him, where this could go to a whole different level.

He groans into my mouth as I press closer and think of all the things we could be doing in another room. He drops his barrier and does the same, making me gasp in shock at the images flooding my mind. I push and he pulls until it feels like we can't get any closer to each other.

The rational part of my mind is screaming that this is dangerous; that this is Draco Malfoy I want to shag senseless, and that I have a boyfriend, but the dangerous part of my mind takes over, telling me that I have always wanted a tryst with my enemy, that I've always found him extremely attractive, and that this is what I desire most.

The way he is nibbling and sucking on my bottom lip is driving me positively insane, and I moan to let him know how much I want him, but I can safely assume that he already knows this. Before our encounter can escalate any further, we hear footsteps approaching, and he shoves away from me. I fall back into the chair for fear of my knees giving out beneath me and watch as Malfoy blends into the shadows.

My breathing is heavy as a fourth year Ravenclaw walks by, giving me a worried glance at my flushed cheeks and ragged breaths. She weaves her way back through the shelves and when I can't see or hear her anymore I turn toward the shadows that Malfoy is hiding in.

He walks out and the first thing I notice is how his lips are a bright red contrast against his pale skin, and I smile. A devious, knowing smile. Just like his. I don't know what possessed him to kiss me; I just know that I kissed him back and that if I could, I would do it again.

At that moment I hardly care about Ron, about anything other than what had just happened.

He let me into his mind. Draco Malfoy, the young man who never shows emotion, let me see some of his darkest secrets. I hope he lets me see more, because that minor snippet of information was not enough. I can feel myself slowly becoming addicted to his lips, his mind. It's not just about hate anymore; it's about intrigue and curiosity. I'm like the drug addicts I hear about on the Muggle news. I've just tasted desire, and I only want more.

He passes by me so closely that his body brushes against mine and his hand touches my hip just for a second. I shiver, and I know he felt it because he turns his stormy eyes toward me. A lust so intense smolders in his gaze that I suddenly wish that, yet again, we are in a locked room with a bed.

I shake my head of such thoughts, but they seem to be permanently etched into my mind. I watch as he picks up his bag and book. My whole body is shivering with adrenaline, and I can't help but wonder if it will happen again. Malfoy's head jerks toward my direction, his eyes instantly meeting mine for the millionth time that night, and he silently answers my question. His eyes have always betrayed his cool demeanor.

Yes.

We both smile that knowing smile.

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Note: Sooo, yeah. Haha. I'm pleased with it, I guess. I may come back and re-write it, and make it a little different, but for now I'm content. I hope you all enjoyed, and please review! =)