Voldemort was past story. The last term had been a period of great achievements, but also of great suffering. The hard times that Harry and his friends had to get past, was vivid memories in their minds and they'd be hard to forget. In particular, Hermione had memories of that struggle that are going to be carved in her heart, and only the time could erase them. In that moment, they were sitting in the common room, not speaking. Words were useless to them. Seven years of dangerous adventures taught them to speak wordlessly to each other and was common knowledge that one look worth a thousand words.
Hermione felt that her bladder was going to burst out, and because of that, she left the common room, toward the bathroom. It was night already and the torches that lit the corridors were echoes of the war that she had left behind. She still could hear wizards yelling as they were been tortured over and over again, at plain sight of everyone, as if when someone remembers a party with loud music when is out of it. The last nights, ill-fated nightmares that made her scream of terror had kept her awake. And, despite the many measures taken by her, in most times she couldn't sleep.
Something told her that she wasn't alone. She looked everywhere, hoping to find someone… or something. After going in circles a lot, she saw a cat that was roaming in a distant corridor. Ignoring Hermione, Mrs. Norris continued her path, without students to feed an always hungry Argus Filch. ¿What was wrong to go a bathroom? Hermione wondered, taking a look towards where was the eternal partner of the caretaker. After that, she kept walking. The girl's bathroom was at the turn of the corner. She barely took the bend and, at the end of the corridor, there was a familiar shape, a youth with blonde hair who never wished well-being to her. He held his wand with one hand, as if hoping to find her there. Hermione drew her own, feeling a funny feeling, like she had been through this before, and it was the main reason which the fact of fall asleep was out of reach…
Two months earlier…
Harry did everything he could to resist the huge power of Voldemort, holding his wand tight hoping not to lose grip of it. She, Hermione, was lying on the ground, thrown away by some misguided blast, of many that could be heard amongst the ruined buildings and the scream of mothers whose children were lost. From the heavy mist, a menacing shape was visible though the curtain of smoke that veiled the surroundings. She, feeling threatened, took her wand and straightened up, standing in full height and facing to the cloudy shadow. Soon, the shape turned into a body, unveiling a youth whose hair was unmistakable blond hair and a sharp, icy look. He held his wand tight, preparing to strike. She stiffened her muscles too, feeling the adrenaline run through, making her heart beat faster and encouraging her to act. Like a lightning, both raised their wands, attacking, throwing various spells. When they realized that none of their attacks was working, they understand that they weren´t doing those petty childish games that they played once anymore. This was real, this was serious, lives were at stake and they knew that one of them wasn't going to survive.
Raising their wands, they attacked each other again, trying to harm themselves, kill to each other and remain in peace. None of them cold even scratch to the other by means of magic. Perhaps that was the reason which the punches and kicks replaced the hexes. If she thought that, being a girl, he was going to be moderated with his attacks, she thought wrong. Being like two animals in the fire of combat for survival, they attack to one another, hitting with equal strength. He was hit by a fierce kick in his belly, and now he was in fours. Still, he was dangerous. Fast like a lightning, this time he kicked her in the belly, falling to the ground and spitting some blood from her mouth. In battle, there was no fair play… and he could leave proof of it when his wand was blasted away through the air, because of a spell of her, who grab her wand and attacked her foe in her moment of triumph. Half-conscious and motionless, he felt angrily powerless in that situation. She straightened up, ambling sometimes, and he could see the tip of her wand close to his eyes, which flooded with hatred. She wanted to finish him, exterminate the one who made her life impossible by more than a half decade…
The sweet taste of vengeance had its price. She took too much time to kill him. It was so satisfying to see him powerless and unable to move that she hesitated a bit. That was enough for him: he made a blast and she was miles away from her prey. For when she could see again, he had disappeared. She cursed his name forever, brooding and waiting for a new chance to kill that bastard…
Today…
Now, that she had Draco Malfoy in front of her, in the same conditions than in battlefield, but in a different environment, she could feel again the taste of vengeance. Too many years of enmity would come to an end, which anticipated very tragic. Energy flooded their muscles again, stiffened again like the last time they fought. One single reaction would make them jump and fire hexes everywhere. Both of them left a drop of sweat from their chins. Time seemed slow. The wood of the wands was crunching. They held them very tight, aware to the slightest movement, searching for weaknesses with hard and piercing looks.
The two drops of sweat barely touch the floor, and both of them raised their wands and tried to kill each other again. The hexes and curses flew everywhere, hitting in the walls, in the roof and the floor, but not in them, which unleashed impatience for kill without hesitation. The seconds passed, and they wanted to feel the taste of vengeance more and more, and finally, the animal instincts made them leave magic and made them to wrestle. Draco wasn´t going to be a gentleman… and Hermione wasn´t going to be a lady neither. The two of them hit, and been hit, with punches, kicks, and even head-smashing, trying to mistreat to one another. Draco threw Hermione to the floor and he jump above her, to finish her. However, there was something that was making them uncomfortable.
Apart from the strange position in which both of them were, Draco and Hermione seemed to smell to each other. It was as if only now they would had begun to recognize to one another after ten minutes of mutual punishment. They barely began the "shoot first, ask later" from nowhere, like does many of unwanted things, they look fixedly to each other, trying to hate to one another when, what really was happening, they would feel something totally different that they were trying to show. A savage, animal, non-violent impulse, but erotic, took them away and surround them in a hypnotic veil. Within seconds, everything they had done, the punches, the attempts to harm each other, the death wishes, were forgotten.
After that, came the unavoidable.
They barely felt their lips, Draco started to behave like a perfect gentleman, taking off her clothes one by one, giving a damn to whom were watching. She wore a knee-high-dress, and he hadn´t any difficulties to get to it in a more intimate sort of way. It heard a drag-like sound, and Draco submerge himself in her breasts, while he touched her legs softly and she wailed and wailed and wailed… and wailed. Now they were focusing all their energies in satisfy to one another, feeling that the sweet taste of vengeance had been replaced by an even more sweet taste: erotic pleasure. With the mutual hatred lying forgotten faraway, they loved to each other all night long, without a single eye watching them.
Two days had passed from that bewildering collection of doings in the second floor and Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger weren´t the same anymore. It was as if they never had been enemies. Perhaps, the chemistry that bound them and the prejudices themselves that both felt, motivated them to hate to one another, an easy answer to their problems. Nevertheless, it is true when things exist and the conditions happen, one little thrust is enough to make things alright. One swift nice smell and the road between hate and love was walked in a blink of an eye. The prejudices are one of the worst enemies of love but, we all know that one bit of snow can unleash an avalanche. And Hermione and Draco could sleep well, knowing that the thing found in that fight was the answer that they were seeking for seven years.
And, of course, they continued together and never could someone separate them nor made them fight to each other ever again.
Author Note: Despite this work belongs to my friend, Gilrasir, he gave me permission to translate his fictions. And, although I'm Chilean, I wrote this in English for practice and get better writing in this tongue.