Author's note: Harry Potter in general, and specifically Hermione and Draco do not belong to me, but come from the mind of J.K. Rowling. I've just borrowed them and their world for purely smutty purposes. Herein lies sex, although nothing terribly graphic. Herein also lies a plot, which belongs to me. This was meant to just be a little, harmless Draco/Hermione story. I got about halfway through it before I realized that it was turning into a little Draco/Hermione story with sex in. Ahh, well. Comments are always appreciated!
Hermione awoke, sitting up in her bed quickly. The room was silent but for the sound of her own heavy breathing. She peeled the blankets off, finding that she was glistening with sweat. What was I dreaming about to get me this worked up?
Lavender snorted as Hermione stepped onto the cold floor. Hermione walked carefully to the window, not wanting to disturb any of the other girls. Outside the moon shone brightly, illuminating the grounds. It was a clear night, and Hermione longed to be out in it. Maybe it would help clear her head.
Silently, she dressed and snuck out of the room. She was alert as she made her way through the halls, hoping she would not get caught. Smiling wryly to herself, she remembered how she would have never risked such a thing when she first came to Hogwarts.
Seven years could change a person so much.
She made it outside with no trouble. Setting off over the grounds she let out a breath she did not realize she had been holding. As she neared the lake, she felt the presence of someone else. Turning, she could see no one in the darkness, so she shrugged the feeling off and sat down, leaning against a tree.
The air was cool on her skin, and Hermione enjoyed it. She closed her eyes, letting the wind blow against her, feeling the firmness of the ground below her. And she remembered her dream.
Harry, dead. Ron, dead. Her parents, dead. Her worst fears.
And something about Malfoy. She frowned as she remembered. That again. It had been plaguing her dreams that year, visions of Malfoy and herself in more than friendly positions. Just a phase, she told herself. Another fear. What would be more horrible?
But she had a hard time making herself feel disgusted about it.
Again, there was a nagging feeling that someone was watching her. Hermione stood up and looked around, catching a glint of something silvery-white behind another tree. What in the world...
Stealthily, she crept towards the tree, feeling a bit silly. It's probably nothing. You're just on edge, thinking you're going to get caught. She caught another silvery-white glimpse.
There was nothing behind the tree when she got there. She rested her head agains the rough trunk, sighing. A quiet scuffling came from the other side of the tree. Hermione lifted her head quickly, creeping around the trunk. Nothing. She returned to the other side of the tree, colliding with something solid and falling to the ground.
"Dammit, Granger," came a drawling voice from above her. "Do you ever look where you're going?"
Hermione snarled and looked up at the smirking face of Draco Malfoy. "What are you doing here?"
"Out for a moonlit stroll," he answered, extending a pale hand down to her. "Need some help?"
She untangled herself and stumbled to her feet, brushing off the dirt she had accumulated in her fall.
"Graceful," commented Draco.
"Shove it, Malfoy."
They stood for a moment, looking at each other. Draco was immaculate, not a hair out of place. Hermione was aware of her rumpled clothes and unconsciously tried to straighten them. Finally:
"Shove it where, exactly?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You're sick." Hermione swirled around, intending to stalk away. A hand on her arm stopped her. She tried to pull away, but Draco had a strong grasp on her. "Let me go."
"Let's talk, Granger. We have so few opportunities to get to know each other."
"I know everything I care to know about you," spat Hermione. "You're a bastard."
Draco loosened his grip on her arm, but made no move to lose contact with her. The feel of his cold skin on her own was causing strange sensations to run down to her fingertips. She pulled away and, this time, he made no protest.
"Let's stop this petty fighting," he said softly. "Nobody is here to care what we do. Your little friends aren't around to fuel the fires of your hatred. There's just you...and me..."
"I don't know what you mean," Hermione told him, avoiding his gaze.
He stepped closer to her, lifted her chin with one thin finger, forced her to look at him. "You can stop pretending."
Hermione said nothing. She was confused by the look in his eyes. His face was hard, unreadable. But his eyes seemed softer than usual, brighter. Realizing that she was biting her lip, she let it go and tasted blood on her tongue. Draco noticed, his gaze dropping to her mouth. In a second, before she had time to understand what he was doing, he leaned down, his lips on hers. His touch was surprisingly soft, and Hermione did not pull away, although she did not respond.
Draco ended the kiss and looked at Hermione, his eyes challenging. Her blood was on his lips, and she saw him as a vampire, beautiful and deadly, and she knew that if she did not get away from him now, he could prove as dangerous. She did not move, and Draco smiled.
"I don't like you, Granger." His voice was smooth, it sang in Hermione's ears.
"I can't stand you," she replied.
"And yet," he continued. "It seems we both have the same problem. We don't like each other, but, and I know you know this is true, we want to fuck each other senseless."
"Don't inflict your sick little fantasies on me. You don't know what I want."
"Don't I?" His hand cupped her cheek, and she struggled to remain still. "I've seen you staring at me, when your friends aren't paying attention. I feel what there is between us."
"The lure of the forbidden..."
He lowered his head again, his lips a breath away from hers. "So you do understand..." And he was on her again, stronger this time, his tongue darting into her open mouth.
And she responded. This is what you've wanted, she told herself, even though you never admitted it to yourelf. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, feeling his hardness grow against her. He left her lips and moved to her neck, pushing her hard against the tree. Hermione was on fire wherever Draco touched her, and she began to ache. She pushed him away, ducking under his arm and lowering herself to the ground. He followed her, his hands never leaving her skin.
She grabbed his face, looking into his eyes and seeing nothing but passion there. "This is so wrong," she whispered, and she kissed him fiercely, hungrily. They broke for a moment as he pulled her shirt over her head. Then they were together again, and his soft fingers were tracing circles on her breasts. It was maddening, and she thrust her hips against his. "If we're going to do this, let's get it done with."
He moaned, and she took it as agreement. There was a flurry of disrobing, and then he was poised above her, his pale skin almost brighter than the moonlight. She saw his desire, and felt it strongly in herself. For a moment they were still, staring into each other's eyes, both trying to see if there was something more than passion there. And then the moment was past, and Draco plunged into her, hard and fast. Hermione gasped then rose to meet his thrusts. They climaxed quickly, Hermione shaking from the power of it. Draco let out a strangled scream as he came and pulled out of her, sweat glistening on his flawless skin.
Breathing heavily, they sat there, not looking at each other. Draco spoke first. "Tell anyone we did this, Granger, and I'll kill you."
"Same for you, Malfoy."
They dressed quickly, still avoiding the other's gaze. Hermione shivered in the cool air, although she felt as if her skin still burned. The moon was hidden behind a cloud, and the night no longer seemed inviting. Not knowing what to say, or if she should even speak, she turned and walked away.
"Hermione." His voice was soft, a caress. His hand touched her arm, lightly turning her back to him. He kissed her lightly, and she sensed something besides lust behind it. "Thank you. I'm sorry. But thank you."
She looked into his eyes and saw something akin to kindness there. Then it was gone, and the Draco she knew was there again, haughty and cold. She wondered if that was who he really was.
Lavender was snoring loudly when Hermione returned to the room. She collapsed on her bed, exhausted. She felt fulfilled, and empty too. Imagining how her friends would react if they ever knew, she almost laughed. And then she cried, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. She had let herself lose control. She had done something undeniably stupid.
With Draco Malfoy.
And yet, while she knew it was wrong, nothing had ever felt more right. She remembered Draco's uncharacteristic apology and wondered why he had made it. She wondered if maybe there could ever be more between them besides pure attraction, pure need.
Maybe if things were different...
Maybe he realized that too.
Wiping her tears away, she pulled her blankets tightly around her and was reminded of Draco's touch. I don't like him, she assured herself. And yet I still want him more than anything in the world.
And she realized, as she drifted off to sleep, that what she wanted most were unexpected kind looks and gentle caresses and soft whispers. And although she did not understand what it all meant (and promising herself that she would analyze it in the morning) she knew that she had given more than her body that night. Like it or not, right or wrong, she had given her heart.