I'm in the process of bringing my works across from my A03, all my up to date wips are found on there, though (a/n's will be copy pasted with these too). At the moment FFN won't let me upload lengthy chapters and I've to split my O/s into chapters which is frustrating... But I will be solidly posting to my A03 still, I personally prefer the uploading process there.
A/N: Here's some heavy angst + dark + romantic feels ;) Enjoy! Let me know if you like it!
Beta love to SaintDionysus!
Also shout out to SaintDionysus + Mr Benzedrine...I used our Gryff code word in this. *private joke* I couldn't resist!
-GiTG
Draco and Blaise exit the great hall to avoid the commotion unfolding inside. In their haste, Draco unexpectedly collides with Ron. He seizes the moment, any excuse will do to cause a stir. With the second strike of his shoulder, Ron stumbles backward in surprise muttering something under his breath, as his face glows hot with fury. He's rubbing the top of his arm, irritated by Draco's presence and frustrated by his ability to get under his skin. Harry offers Ron a reassuring look to try and cool things down. The last thing they need is another detention but Ron doesn't appear calm at all.
Meanwhile, Hermione is glaring at Draco for the intrusion, completely inconvenienced by his mere existence. Nothing about her demeanour is friendly, she's had enough of him.
Draco sniggers as Ron mutters under his breath, but Draco persists to antagonise him.
"What's that Gryffindork? Kitty gotchya tongue?"
Harry scoffs in retaliation, eager to diffuse the tension. "Shove off Malfoy!"
"Excuse me, Gryffinwho? I don't believe I was talking to you," retorts Draco.
"Oh bite me! Malfoy," chimes Hermione, as she grabs Harry and Ron's hands in an attempt to pull them away from the trouble that's brewing.
Draco smirks as if he's just been handed a gift.
She wants to play today, well princess, I can only deliberate. Take the bait. He quirks a brow, delivering his response with a controlled edge.
"Snake bites are lethal, Granger. Are you sure you really want that?"
A chill courses through her body but she shakes it off. She's had one too many drops of courage today, and a flagrant disregard of her moral compass as of late. He is on her last nerve so she stoops to his level, barking a slur far from witty, void of grace, and totally uncalled for. This shit is personal, and while she's feeling a rebellious streak to break rules, she may aswell kick him in the guts while her immorality allows her to.
"Slytherslut," she states poetically, as though she is spitting such words with fire.
Draco is positively glowing by her feistiness and he continues to feed the flames.
"Gryffinwhore."
He doesn't mean it but he loves winding her up.
Hermione refrains her gasp but in her head she's stomping her feet and cursing him into oblivion. Before she has a chance to respond, Blaise chimes in. His words are enough to shut her up immediately.
"Will you two just shut up and fuck already?"
Hermione downcasts her eyes, it's an awkward aversion of the fact that she finds Draco cynical, but incredibly sexy, and her inability to control such an attraction bothers her greatly.
Blaise glances back and forth between Draco and Hermione.
"I'm not the only one who's noticed the sexual tension," he states matter-of-factly. He nods in the direction of Harry and Ron and they nod back subtly while being careful to avoid her.
Hermione's eyes shift from her feet to the direction of Blaise. She catches Harry and Ron agreeing with him, and glares daggers at them all at the implication.
Blaise turns to take the closest exit, grabbing Harry and Ron, pushing them in the same direction as he goes.
Hermione and Draco are left alone to talk. The five seconds of silence after their friends left is uncomfortable, so Hermione questions Draco, annoyed by his arrogance.
"Was that really necessary?" she demands.
"I do what I need to do to get a private audience with you. You know that," he bobs his head to signal that he's directing his speech at her before he carries on. "I'm not going to apologise for my instinct to be a prick to you."
"You're a hypocrite," she scoffs.
Hermione knows she shouldn't have expected an apology. She doubts the slimy snake is even capable of spelling the word, but she can't ignore her moral compass when she knows right from wrong. His "instinct" is a poor excuse to avoid one.
Draco is point blank.
"Cunning. The term is cunning, Granger."
Hermione attempts to argue but she finds herself being pushed into an empty classroom.
"Malfoy, don't," she struggles.
Draco forces against her twists and turns. This is the only chance he's going to have alone with her before the holidays, and he wants to make sure he is on her mind for the duration of them.
"Why fight it?" he asks, genuinely interested in her answer.
Hermione is guarded; feeling argumentative as one of her last lines of defence. The other being her wand, which her hand is calmly stroking on the inside pocket of her robes.
"Why fight for something you can't have?" she questions without hesitation.
"Can't and no and not words registered in my vocabulary. When I want something I persist," he cooes.
Her anger rises and so does the heat of their conversation. She remains perplexed as she rebukes.
"How many times do I have to deny you?"
"Until I stop wanting you."
"And if I never reciprocate?"
"That's not an option. 'Any means to achieve their ends' remember? I'm not against exploring other methods, Granger. However I much prefer my witches to be willing."
"You wouldn't dare?"
"Wouldn't I? Try me."
"I'd rather not try anything with you. I think you're vile. Besides, you couldn't handle me, even if I came with a detailed manual."
"Oh I'd write a book, Granger. And I wouldn't spare any details."
"You!"
"I have a name."
"I loathe you!"
"You say that but I don't believe it for a minute. I have an excellent sense of character and my ability to 'read' people is second to none. Your body language tells me otherwise."
Hermione shifts her thighs subtly; clearing the uncomfortable ball of angst growing in her throat. The tension is thick but her confidence doesn't waver.
"Tell me, Malfoy, what does 'my body language' tell you?" she snaps sarcastically.
"Well for one, you're blushing."
He starts moving casually, circling her with his steps. He reaches the back of her shoulders leaning into her neck, hovering his face just short of her left ear. His voice is but a dull whisper.
"It's not the same blushing tint you get after Potter's told you some lame joke, and you have to force a giggle to make him happy. It's a flustered rush of rose to your cheeks, signalling the uncontrollable increase of your heart rate."
Hermione gulps, squeezing her eyes closed for a moment. Any attempt to get ahold of herself.
She's presumptuous in her response, but delivers it with just enough sass to let roll off her tongue successfully.
"Oh really. Is that it? You can tell by the colour of my cheeks? Groundbreaking. Did you ever think I'm frustrated by you persistence?"
Draco is quick to shut her down. He is in control of this, not her, but he's enjoying her defiance all the same.
"Frustrated, yes. By my tenacity? No. You're practically dripping with sexual tension. Again, you body tells me. You're rigid, uncomfortably so, because you're trying to hold it together. But your confidence doesn't match your behaviour."
He places his hands on top of her shoulders and the action causes her to jump. Swiveling her around to face him their eyes meet, but it's a second before her lashes flutter to hide her eyeroll. Draco turns up the heat knowing that everything he is doing, every word oozing from his lips is unavoidable seduction.
"I saw the way your thighs clenched when you shuffled your feet. You're concentrating on controlling your emotions so much that you might forget to breathe."
Draco moves forward, hovering his nose an inch from hers.
Hermione bites her lip nervously in response to his bold move. She feels the temptation building, threatening to suck her in, and for once, she fears her ability resist him. This is the closest contact they've had in months. She didn't know she still craved him till now.
Draco chuckles at her apprehension, edging forward so that they're touching nose-to-nose.
"Breathe, Granger. Or don't. I'm sure Mudbloods don't taste all that different. I'd be more than happy to resuscitate you. Mouth-to-mouth."