Summary: Set in their sixth year at Hogwarts, Draco works during the school year to complete his mission. A couple of run ins with Hermione and a few kisses start to become a bigger deal than he thought them to be originally, and as time passes Draco starts to put his task aside. Struggling to cope with his original prejudice against muggle-borns and his confusing feelings for Hermione make both of them drift apart and find themselves drawn back together again and again. Most of this story goes by the book and a tiny bit on the movie and just like in the book, Draco has to decide whether or not to meet Dumbledore on that Astronomy Tower and let his fellow Death eaters in, or stay with Hermione and go against his family, Voldemort, and everything he's ever believed in.
Note: This story will be split into three parts: Denial, Pride, and Acceptance. Also all three parts will either be from Draco's POV or only the first and the third, and I will make the second from Hermione's. I'm still undecided, so let me know in a review which option you would prefer.
Rating: M+ for extreme sexual situations, language, and violence.
Part I: Denial
Draco Malfoy moved roughly above his partner.
He had thought maybe she'd shut up a bit if he was little more rough, but that just made her screams louder.
He looked down at Pansy-her long thick ebony hair spread all around her in a black halo, her charcoal eyes half lidded with pleasure, and her tiny pink mouth parted in a round O. Her above-average breasts were moving at such a fast and alarming speed that he decided to take it down a notch, but the thing was he wasn't even close. He was hard because she felt good. Hell, she even looked good. There was no denying that her body wasn't pretty, but she wasn't her.
He looked down again and envisioned dark curly hair, wide big dark brown eyes flaked with tiny bits of gold, smaller breasts, and a touch of coffee over milky skin. He imagined her slim legs wrapped around him, pushing him in deeper, as her nails raked across his back in a way she knew he loved; lightly digging into this sensitive spot along his back. He thought of it, thought of it as much as he could and if possible, he grew harder. He tried thinking of strictly her body, or the way she tasted, but other things glimpsed their way in. Like her laugh, the way she would wrinkle her nose if she didn't like something, or how she would always softly and hesitantly kiss him. Always so nervous, so inexperienced. Fuck, he was close now. He could feel that familiar warmth spreading from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. His skin crawled like clouds; goosebumps stretching their way across pale skin. He was close. He was so bloody close.
He thought again of her hair fisting into his as he pleasured her. Thought of the way her lips curved into a smile, or the rare smirks she would give him that were very much like his own. He thought of the way she had looked at him once upon a time: want, want, want all in her dark brown-ember eyes that had possibly darkened even more with her arousal. He thought of her lips; so full, so soft against his own. He thought of kissing them, parting them with his tongue as he slowly pushed in and out of her. Sweat broke out across his brow and he closed his eyes tight letting himself feel a lot more than he should have.
"Draco," she would say, almost like a prayer, almost like a whisper. She would say it over and over again and it would drive him crazy with a want so powerful that he had thought once it would carry him away.
And it did.
His body broke out in joy, the warmth slowly spreading all over the span of his body, to even his closed eyelids like the afterimage of a lamplight, like tiny starbursts behind his eyes.
"Hermione", he whispered, almost like a prayer.
December:
Draco chanced a quick glance at her in the Great Hall come morning, despite himself. She was talking animatedly to Longbottom at the Gryffindor table, and laughing at something he had said.
He looked away.
He was sick of thinking of her almost all the damn time. It was pathetic. The whole thing had started out so meaningless. She had had some horrible fight with Weasley and was crying her eyes out down one of the corridors. She was supposed to be doing her patrols as part of being a Prefect, and naturally he had called her out on it.
"Sorry, Granger, but I don't think this part was in the job description," he said cruelly.
What the hell did she have to cry about anyway?
Her head snapped up and she wiped at her eyes, blushing furiously and looking at him with nothing but contempt, quickly standing up and straightening her robes.
"Shut up, Malfoy."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "That's it? That's all you've got?"
"I said shut up!" She nearly stomped her foot.
It was all very amusing indeed and so he jabbed at her a bit more.
"Come now, Granger. You have to have some witty comeback just itching to get out of that filthy Mudblood mouth of yours."
"Actually, Malfoy, I have no time for you."
And with that, she spun on her heel and started walking in the opposite direction. No time for him? Everyone always had time for him.
"What do you want?" She nearly shouted as she heard him following loudly behind her.
"Has someone lost their wit today, or better yet their intellect?"
That did it.
Granger spun around so fast they nearly crashed into each other. Her face was red and he could have sworn her eyes were too.
"Listen to me, Malfoy. I haven't lost anything of the sort. I just haven't any time for your arrogant annoying self tonight. Either leave me the hell alone or I swear I'll hex you."
"And lose your spot as Prefect?"
"What is your problem? Why can't you just go away?" And then all of a sudden she cried. Right there in the middle of some other corridor, she started crying.
Draco had never been more shocked in his life. Know-It-All Hermione Granger was crying in front of him. He had never made her cry before. Never. And if he did, it was in private. Like Draco, Granger was too stubborn and prideful to let herself be so vulnerable in such a public place with someone who could care less. So this, this meant something. And he didn't like it one bit.
"Hey, Granger…alright cut that out," he said gently, wanting her to really just shut up already. He felt awkward. He honestly didn't enjoy making girls cry. They always got increasingly more annoying and ugly looking when they cried. Draco enjoyed making them cry other things, but tears was not one of them.
She looked up at him angrily again, wiping at her eyes.
"Just leave me alone, Malfoy."
"With pleasure," but he couldn't move. There was something about seeing her so…pathetic looking was just nagging at him. Granger might be annoying as hell, but pathetic? That was one thing Granger was not.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to make you cry." What the hell was this? An apology? Draco couldn't remember the last time he apologized for anything in his life.
She laughed bitterly. "Yes, you did."
That ticked him off.
"No, I didn't. If I meant to I wouldn't have apologized, and believe me I'd be saying a lot of nasty things right about now."
"Then why not just say them?"
He sneered. "Because you already look pathetic enough."
She bit her lip, looking hurt and in a mere two seconds a stream of fresh new tears came running down her face. Merlin! Did the girl ever stop crying?
"Granger! I said to cut that out! Look, I'm sorry for what I said earlier and for what I said now, can you please just please stop crying already?"
She stopped in about a minute or so and slid down the wall opposite of her, oddly sitting in the same way and almost the same place he had found her in before. He sighed and sat down next to her, immediately regretting it.
"What are you doing now?" She demanded.
"I am trying to make an attempt at being nice and understanding so, what's the problem? Why are you crying?"
"Why do you care?" She asked, incredulous.
"I don't," Draco said quickly. "I'm just curious. You've already held up most of my night with this nonsense so you might as well tell me what it's about."
She snorted in a very un-lady like manner. "Tell you? What, so you can tell the whole school?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "I have better things to do than to talk about your sad little life, Granger."
There was a long pause and then in a rush she told him her tale.
"Ron, and I are…I don't even know what we are! He was with someone else when it's almost completely official that we are together! I mean, it is, but it isn't. We both love each other and everything but he keeps going back to that Lavender bint, and I just don't understand it. I don't like mixed signals and I wish he'd just make up his bloody mind and tell me what he wants already!"
Draco was right. He couldn't care less and seriously regretted extending out the invitation to have Granger tell him about Weasley and his poor selection in women.
"Well, he clearly has already," Draco said tonelessly, not looking at her, but at the wall across from them.
"What?"
Draco could see out of the corner of his eye that she had turned to look at him.
"He doesn't want you." It was a bit harsh, but the truth was the truth and she clearly wanted it so badly.
"And what makes you so sure of that?" She asked hotly.
He chanced a glance at her, looking at her eyes again. They were dry this time. Thank Merlin.
"If he's even sending out 'mixed signals' he doesn't want you, if he has a half a brain that is. Girls play hard to get and sometimes it's hot, sometimes it's not. But a guy doing that? Guys don't do that if they know what they want, and as you pointed out before, he doesn't so therefore he doesn't really want you if he can't man up and make a decision about it."
Granger was quite for a long moment until finally…
"You're right," she said quietly and it took Draco completely by surprise. Granger agreeing with him? Saying he was right?
"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked, seriously worried.
Granger rolled her eyes. "Yes, Malfoy. I'm just agreeing with you. I'll make the decision for him since he clearly can't: I'm out."
Draco raised his eyebrows, impressed. She stopped crying and he could hear that usual know-it-all pride coming back into her voice. Her eyes and face lost that pathetic look to them and he relaxed. As annoying as Granger was, he honestly preferred her this way to the girl who was crying moments before. She wasn't any fun when she cried.
"Well, good for you, Granger."
He readied himself to stand up but her hand caught his. He looked at her, for the third time, in surprise. He was pretty certain that him and Granger had never made physical contact with the other outside of that slap in the face she threw at him in their third year.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. Draco half sat, half squatted there for a second. He thought of about a hundred ugly comments and insults he could make at her, but he was tired of that now and decided against it.
"You're welcome," he said awkwardly, and she let go of him, he stood up and just stared down at her.
He held out his hand.
She took it quietly, hauling herself up. They looked at each other for only about a second, and then went their separate ways without another word.
Two months had gone by since then, and for some extremely odd reason he had started to notice her a little. He noticed that her hair was more tame, it fell in long relaxing curls around her face and shoulders, down her back. Her body had definitely matured as well-her breasts weren't all too big and she never flaunted them, but they looked like a good handful. Her waist was small and her hips curved out to reveal long toned and slightly tan legs.
He didn't understand why all of a sudden he decided to let himself recognize Granger as a woman now. He didn't know why all of a sudden the world decided to play this cosmic joke on him. She was a Mudblood, Potter and Weasley's best friend, an annoying Know-It-All.
So why did he want her?
Draco had asked himself this question about a million and one times before, and he still had no answer.
