Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling has those bragging right, lucky girl.
I originally posted this one shot in 2012. I did a bit of editing without changing the story.
Sometimes life passes you buy, and you're left standing in the dark wondering when the lights were turned off. That was how she felt as she watched her childhood begin to pass her by. How was it that she'd spent seven years with her head stuck in books with nothing to show for it? She barely had any friends, Ron and Harry were nice to her, about the only ones in Gryffindor who were, but it was obvious that both considered her more a tiresome, nagging older sister than anything else. Her social life was none existent. He seven years at Hogwarts could be summed up as two shiny badges and the best grade point average the school had seen in seventy years. She supposed that the last thing was something, hours in the library pouring over heavy tomes, foot upon foot of well researched essays, and volunteering to help her teachers whenever they needed it all in pursuit to earn a little more knowledge. It had all been worth it, at least it had been at the time. But as school drew closer to an end, Hermione Granger couldn't help but wonder if she'd made a mistake. The question was, how would she rectify it in three months?
Tucking her hands inside the pockets of her gray pea coat, Hermione swept down the castle steps and off toward the great lake. It was officially spring, but Scotland seemed to have missed the memo, as the crisp, cold weather refused to relinquish its hold on the land. Hermione was looking forward to the warmth of spring, which brought the birth of animals, the rejoicing of the spirit, and the resurrection of nature, which slept so deeply one might confuse it with death.
It was what she needed, just one thing, one moment of rebirth, to be born again into something more than a walking encyclopedia, to turn the page in an old book and discover something new, to discover something that has always been there but might have been overlooked. She wanted to be new, to find newness about herself that she may have bypassed in her pursuit of knowledge. To peek into the confidential recesses of her soul and find that which would lead her out of her staid disposition and into… What? She didn't know, but she knew, she knew there had to be more to her than just a brain. There was more, and she would find it. She would.
Caught up in her musings, Hermione made it to the lake in no time, and would have walked right in if a voice hadn't stopped her.
"Granger, I know that brain of yours is always working overtime, but you might want to watch where you're going."
"Wha," Hermione began, but the word was cut off as the toe of her right flat was submerged in water. Jumping back, she shook her foot before placing it back on the banks. The wet leather felt rough and uncomfortable against her toes and the soles squished with water when she turned to stare behind her.
"Malfoy?"
Taking a drag on his cigarette, he blew out a puff of smoke, "No, The Ghost of Christmas Past."
Hermione starred at him unblinkingly as he took another drag and blew out a perfect 'o' of smoke that traveled towards her, but dissipated after a short while.
"Dickens, Granger. Come on, don't tell me you expelled all of your energy trying to convince the populace that you're a real witch and neglected muggle literature."
"Of course I didn't," Hermione said indignantly. Just because she'd studied hard to be a witch didn't mean she wouldn't know one of the finest authors in British history. She was just confused as to why Draco Malfoy, pureblood scion, would deign to stop her from doing a face plant into the lake, while imbibing in something as mundane, to muggles, as smoking a cigarette, before quoting English literature. None of it made sense, but perhaps it was the day, this day that had her second guessing her entire life.
"I am very well versed in the great authors of the past and present. I was just surprised that you seemed to know anything about muggle literature."
"Because a pureblood couldn't know anything about great literature?" he said mockingly. "You're as judgmental as those you claim constantly judge you. I'll have you know that a well-rounded pureblood wizard is taught to appreciate the finer things in life, especially when it comes to literature. The British are the denizens of literature, we may not have created the art form, but we perfected it in such a way that it's practically infused with our molecules."
"Science?"
Placing the cigarette between his lips, Draco clapped and spoke out the side of his mouth, "Bravo, Granger, you're not as dense I thought you were."
Hermione scowled, as her feet moved closer to the large, bare tree he was leaning again.
"No quick comeback? What's got your brain in a funk?"
"Nothing," she said, fanning the air in front of her face as he blew more smoke towards her. "Do you mind?"
"Yes," he said exhaling a cloud of the nocuous fumes. "I was here first."
"Noted but now that you have company."
"Which I don't want or need."
"You could put that out, or at the very least blow it in another direction."
"I could, couldn't I? But as I think it would invite you to stay, I shall continue as I was." Putting the cigarette to his full lips, his gray eyes held hers as he pulled long and hard, while moving closer. Stopping a couple of feet in front of her he leaned forward, smirked and then turned his head away to the release smoke.
Hermione swallowed, she was sure he was going to blow it in her face, again. "Thank you."
Draco grunted, and returned to leaning his tall frame against the tree.
"So why are you doing that anyway?"
"Doing what, leaning against a tree?"
"No," Hermione said, and waved her hand toward his right hand, "Smoking.
"Because I want to."
"Well that's obvious, but why? One, those are a muggle creation and two, they're very bad for you."
"A lot of things are bad for you," Draco said, choosing to ignore the first part of her comment. "We can't all live in a plastic bubble like you."
Hermione bristled and placed her hands on her hips. "I do not live in a bubble."
"Sure you don't."
"I don't.
Draco smirked, "Why did you almost walk into the lake."
"What does that have to do with me living in a bubble?"
"I didn't say the two subjects were related. I just changed the subject. Damn, you're slow today Granger. Seven years and this is what you have to show for it?"
"Sod off Malfoy, it's none of your business."
"Ah, so they are related."
"I didn't say that."
"But I can easily deduce that they are from your attitude. If you living in a bubble didn't have anything to do with why you almost walked into the lake, then you wouldn't have reacted as strongly as you did."
"Thanks Sigmund for the psych evaluation." Hermione bit out, not sure what the hell was happening.
"No problem, I was a bit bored, and it's not like you're that complex a person anyhow."
"I'm glad. Complexity is overrated."
"I couldn't agree more. Now are you going to tell me?" Draco asked, before taking another drag from his cigarette."
"Tell you what?"
"Why you tried to drown yourself in a foot of water."
Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms under her breasts. She wasn't about to tell him her thoughts. He'd probably laugh and call her a loser. And besides, why exactly did he even care? It wasn't like they were friends. The only occasions they'd ever had to speak were when they were either paired up in class, or he was insulting her and she was defending herself. "Why do you want to know so much?"
"I don't, but like I said, I'm bored."
"You, the king of snakes, are bored?" she mocked.
Draco smirked, not the bothered in the least by her snark, "I gave my subjects the day off."
"So I guess it's my lucky day."
"It is."
They fell silent, both taking in the other. Hermione couldn't help but notice that Draco was dressed like a muggle in black trainers, denim jeans, blue and white striped oxford shirt, and black leather coat. He looked so ordinary, well maybe not ordinary, since it would be impossible for him to look ordinary with his pale blonde hair, aristocratic bone structure, and mercury eyes. It was just that at this moment he looked more the British teenager and less the elfin prince. There were rumors that the Malfoys had veela ancestry, but Hermione was certain that there was a bit of fae or elfin blood in their veins. Although veela where part of the fae mythology, she believed the Malfoy's ancestors were from the Seelie courts.
"Like what you see?" Draco said. "Should I turn around?"
"Shut up," Hermione said, slightly ducking he head, so that her curls would hide her pink cheeks.
"I would say that I like what I see, but as you seem to lack all awareness of your body, I can't and a lie would be too obvious."
"I…I don't know what you mean." She said embarrassed by his blunt comments. "I am very aware of my body."
"Bubble, Granger, you're sticking your head inside that bubble again."
"I do not live in a bubble."
"Sure you do."
"And I am not having this conversation with you."
"Fine, here," Draco said, holding out the cigarette which had almost burned down to a nub.
"Ugh, I don't want that," Hermione frowned.
"It is a little low," Draco tossed the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it.
"Pick that up, you could cause a fire." Hermione said, walking closer to the tree.
"Relax," he said, lifting up his feet to reveal leaves and nothing more. "I sent it somewhere safe." Draco held his hand up when she made to speak, "I sent it somewhere it won't harm animals, trees or house elves. All the rubbish you care about is safe."
"Life is not rubbish Malfoy," she huffed.
"Whatever," he said opening a silver case, taking out another cigarette, and returning the case to his inner coat pocket. Putting it to his lip, he put his hand in front of the tip and lit the cigarette.
Hermione's eyes widened, "How did you do that?"
"Magic," he smirked, then winked at her.
Hermione's stomach did a little flip, halting any defensive comment she might have mustered.
"Come here," he said, holding out the cigarette to her.
"No," she said, taking another step forward.
"Come one Granger, one little drag won't kill."
"But, but we're not supposed to smoke. It's against the rules."
"Ooh, where's that Gryffindor sense of adventure? Come on, just one little drag. No one will know. We're basically secluded behind this tree. Whatever we do here will only be witnessed by us, God, the giant squid and nature."
Hermione bit her lip in indecision. Wasn't this what she'd just been thinking about? Here was Draco, ready to help her on her way to doing things a little differently. She stared from Draco's tempting eyes to the seemingly innocuous cigarette, but she knew better. It was dangerous, they both were.
"Come on Granger," he whispered, "you know you want to."
Hermione bit her lip, and reached for the cigarette. Taking it between her index and forefinger, as she'd seen some women do, she put it between her lips, inhaled and then choked.
Draco took the two steps that separated them, and began patting her on the back. "I suppose I should have told you not to inhale the first time, especially not that deep."
Hermione coughed, "God that's awful. How do you put that in your mouth?"
"Easy," he said retrieving said item from her hand, and taking another pull.
Hermione turned away from him and took in a large gulp of clean, fresh air before turning back. "I'm surprised you would even share that with me." At his raised eyebrow she added, "You know, putting your lips on something a muggleborn had her lips on."
"I've had my lips on many different parts of female muggles and muggleborns, so sharing a cigarette is practically virginal."
"Ugh, that's gross."
"Don't be such a prude Granger. Just because you're a virgin doesn't mean you have to act like a prude."
"Just because I don't go around throwing myself at every boy I see doesn't mean I'm a prude."
"I bet you've never even had a proper snog before."
"I have."
"Outside of a relative." Draco smirked when she blushed. "I bet sharing this cigarette with me is the closest you've ever come to receiving real a kiss."
"What I do or don't do with my lips is none of your business."
"You're right, but I'm making it mine." Reaching over, Draco grabbed Hermione's arm and yanked her forward.
"Malfoy," she squeaked, as she tumbled toward Draco, who'd pulled her further into the shadow of the tree.
"Now, answer the question."
"You sure are nosey," Hermione said, standing in midst of his cigarette and woodsy scent. Hermione hated the smell of cigarettes, but it didn't bother her so much coming off Draco, perhaps because his natural oak and pine scent overpowered it.
"How many times do I have to tell you I'm bored?"
"I don't know; it's just sort of weird," she said. Hermione stared up into liquid gray eyes that invited one to dive in and get lost in the madness, passion, and intensity that was Draco Malfoy. She licked her lips, stomach fluttering as his eyes took in the gesture.
"What were you thinking about earlier?" he whispered breath fanning across her face.
Hermione inhaled, taking in the smoky, minty aroma and letting it wash over her senses before releasing it with a sigh, "Just thinking about my time here, and how I neglected certain things for others."
"Nothing wrong with that", he said, tossing the cigarette to the ground. Using both hands, he pushed back the riotous curls that framed her heart shaped face. "Your hair is softer than I imagined."
"You imagined something about me?"
"You'd be amazed," he said, dipping his head closer to hers. "We all have things that we wished we'd done," he whispered, before capturing her mouth with his own.
His lips were soft and firm against Hermione's, and she was sure her knees would have buckled if she hadn't grabbed the front of his jacket. His lips moved slowly over her, tongue licking at the seam of her lips, entreating her to open to him.
Hermione wasn't sure what to do. She felt warmer every time his tongue brushed against her lips. Did he want her to open her mouth? If so, how far should she open it? Should she even be opening it to him? What would happen if she did? Unable to deny her curiosity, Hermione opened her mouth just a little, melting instantly as his tongue moved inside. Her tongue met his tentatively in a dance as old as time.
Draco's hand moved from her hair, down her back to grip her firm rounded buttocks, causing Hermione to moan and press herself closer to him. She couldn't think, and she was glad her mind was blank. She'd spent seven years thinking and for once it was good not to think. It felt good to finally let go, to throw away the cautionary signs that lay on the surface of her psyche, and delve deep into the parts of herself that she'd never seen, to discover the parts of herself she'd never known. She found a desire, not for knowledge of the mind, but for the knowledge body and all the passion that went with it, all wrapped inside a kiss that caused her toes to curl and her panties to become moist. It was heavenly, perfection like nothing she could have ever imagined experiencing in a first kiss.
They kissed for what felt like hours. Hermione wasn't exactly sure how long they had been lost in each other, but when he finally lifted his head from her hers, his eyes were dark with lust, and her hands were wrapped around his neck.
"Fuck Granger," he breathed heavily, "you have a great body."
Hermione smiled, cheeks red, eyes glossy, "You're not so bad yourself."
He smirked. "I know," he said, before kissing her lightly on the lips.
Hermione searched his face when he came up, slowly loosening her arms from around his neck.
"What?" he asked.
"You really are a snake aren't you?"
He grinned, a full grin that made things low in her body twitch. "Should I call you Eve?" Draco asked.
"I suppose Hogwarts is our Eden."
"We'll be kicked out in a few months, so we might as well make the most of it."
Hermione's heart raced at what he was insinuating. The idea of delving into the forbidden with a gorgeous guy for the next three months was tempting, but she wasn't ready to jump off the cliff just yet. "I don't know," she said stepping back.
"What's not to? We have great chemistry," he said, stepping forward.
"True, but I don't know if I want to combust with you."
"Well, then," Draco shrugged, "let's just let it simmer for a bit."
Hermione nodded, "But not until it burns." She might not be ready to jump off feet first, but that didn't mean she couldn't find some rope to help her get to the bottom.
Reaching out a hand, Draco softly gripped her cheek, "No, let's not wait that long."
Hermione smiled and turned away, "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Discovery," she threw over her shoulder as she walked towards the castle. "And spring," she added silently.
Draco watched the petite witch's bouncing curls as she walked away, while retrieving another cigarette from the inner pocket of his coat. He wasn't sure what just happened, or even why. But he was glad of it because now he could cross one desire off the list of things he'd wished he'd accomplished in the last seven years.
Draco smirked as he leaned back against the tree. He still had a few more desires that he wished to disclose with a certain curly haired brunette before this part of his life was over, and he was positive she'd be more than happy to comply.