One for the Books

by Emma-Kate9885

They were not friends. They worked together, studied together, even occasionally confided in one another, but they weren't friends. That does not seem to stop Malfoy from pulling harmless pranks specifically to rile her, however, and after she lashes out, Hermione realizes that maybe those were the irksome and outworn games she'd been waiting for.

I know I haven't written anything in a while, and when I do update, it's sporadic. However, I have this lovely little one-shot for anyone who likes that I've been working on for a few days. The idea simply would not leave me be until I completed it. Only thing is, I must be in the mood to write about certain things, and time is hard to find at the college I go to in particular…

Anyway, I hope whoever reads this will enjoy it. Please leave a review! I do appreciate kind words and any constructive critiquing. In addition, this is a warning that there are graphic adult images written out in this chapter.

It wasn't that they could not manage to get along. In fact, most of the time they were quite amiable, something the Headmistress was glad to see. It wasn't that they were friends either. "Friend" is too strong a word, but they could work together. They lived together, planned together, patrolled together, often studied together, and on occasion they even shared thoughts with one another, confiding, asking for advice that they often did not keep, or casually bouncing ideas back and forth. But they were not friends. They had a system. It was not a written sort of agreement, but it was there. It was understood that you did not use the other's coffee mug whether for drink without washing, as a toothbrush holder, or for rinsing paint brushes. It was unspoken that you did not rummage through the other's room and take personal items out into the common area to tease them about. They did not go out of the way to ask about the other's day, yet they did not attempt to cause any unnecessary trouble for the other. They just worked. Coexisted. They had a system. Unfortunately for the Head Girl, she often had to remind the Head Boy of said system. More unfortunately so, today was one of those days.

Hermione stood in her bathroom glaring at the offending tissue paper sitting atop her stand. Apparently, someone had taken the liberty to replace her personally purchased bathroom tissue with the school provided material. Trivial problem really, except that the school tissue felt like sandpaper, and the fact of the matter was, Hermione appreciated softer material, especially that on which she spent her own funds. Shaking her head in thought, she turned from the bathroom and stalked down the stairs, realizing there was nothing to do but address the situation.

Malfoy sat upon the couch in the common area, reading and scribbling in his journal as he often did these days, legs extended across the seat and glasses propped on his nose. She could see a small smirk twitch at the corner of his lips as she approached.

"Malfoy," she addressed him.

The man in question gave a full smirk then, "Ooh, am I in trouble. What is it this time, Hermione?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed, "What did you do with my bathroom tissue, Malfoy?"

"I used it."

"Why did you feel the need to take my bathroom tissue when you had some already?" Hermione asked him with a frown, crossing her hands over her chest.

"Why are you lecturing me when you now have tissue at your disposal, too?" Malfoy was sitting up fully now, turned to place his feet solidly on the ground.

"It was mine first," Hermione ground out through clenched teeth, beginning to lose her patience, "and I'd rather have it back since I spent my own funds on it."

Malfoy nonchalantly waved a hand in the air, pushing his reading glass up the bridge of his nose and turning to his book, "Non-issue then. I'll pay you for it."

Hermione stomped her foot, "No, Malfoy, I want it back! You should better respect my privacy and that my personal things should not be touched without asking. It's the principle of the thing!"

"But I really need it," he said to her again, as if that was enough of a reason, "the school tissue is a nuisance, and yours was so soft. The principle of taking it was to protect my sensitivities."

"And give the offending item to me?" Hermione demanded, stepping closer to the couch to glare down at him, "I'll have you know, it offends my sensitivities, too, and much more than it could yours. You don't even need tissue half of the time, but I do! And things down there are sensitive!"

Malfoy stared up at her, his expression unreadable for the moment as he appeared to be in thought. Hermione breathed out harshly from her rant, cheeks blushed pink from the anger he had elicited, and Malfoy just drank it in, internally reeling from the excitement he felt when he riled her like this every time. She did not even have the sense to think carefully before she said something that could be taken in very different ways than how she meant them, and the sight she made, made for some of his finest memories. He thrived in knowing how easily he could undo her. Thinking this, he chose the moment and his next words carefully.

"I can think of other ways to utilize such soft tissue rather than only for bathroom business, Granger. Surely you can understand I may need it more than you?"

"I – ," the Head Girl began, set on reducing his excuses to the rubbish they were before her mind registered what the Head Boy just said to her. He watched as her cheeks became pinker while she struggled to respond, having been caught off guard, and this time, her face burned for a different reason. He made no effort to hide the smug grin steadily creeping across his own.

Hermione shook her head before addressing him, pointing her fingers accusingly, "You are vile and crude, Draco Malfoy, and quite frankly at the moment I could care less about those particular sensitivities and images of which I would gladly do without. You've made your piece, a rather poor one, and I am going to take back my bathroom tissue now. You will not stop me, and I assure you that you will suffer if you deign to mess with me like this again. I grow tired of your incessant, childish games!"

Draco blinked up at her once before acquiescing, "As you wish, Hermione."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, looking very much like she would enjoy giving him another earful before letting out a huff and storming off in the direction of the stairs that would lead up to his bedroom and connected bathroom. Hermione walked like she was on a mission, quickly passing by the kitchen just to the right and under the stairs until a sudden movement from within it caused her to slow. She paused and stared. She clenched her fists and bit her lip to keep from another outburst. Drawing in a deep breath she addressed the culprit without taking her eyes off what she saw.

"Draco, dear," She indicated sweetly.

"What is it, love?" he responded in kind, also without turning away from his journal, "Realize that you like having naughty images of me already? I figured that one would have to sink in for a few days before you came running to me with the epiphany that you're actually crazy about me."

He heard her scoff from behind him, and he turned slightly so that he could peek at her through his side-eye. He noted that her knuckles were white with tension and that she was likely digging crescent shaped marks into her palms. He smirked while she spoke.

"Draco Abraxus Malfoy," she began in a calm tone, completely juxtaposed to the state of her body language, "What in the bloody hell did you do to my cat!?"

Draco had to struggle not to burst out laughing as she whirled on him, eyes ablaze and hair crackling while she pointed in the direction of the kitchen. At this point, she was close to deadly, and he needed to choose his words carefully.

"Well," he cleared his throat, "I didn't hurt him. He's completely safe in that bubble and has plenty of air to breathe. And now he's out of my way."

"Malfoy, I swear if you continue to joke about –"

"Now, now, Hermione, let's not be rash," he interrupted when she flicked out her wand, aiming it at him, "I only did it because he was invading my space. The little bugger kept running into my room whenever he had an opportunity, and it was driving me barmy."

Hermione lowered her wand as she tilted her head in thought, and he could see the calculation and suspicion in her eyes, "Why would Crookshanks ever go into your room? He detests you at least as much as I do."

Draco smirked at her, "We both know you don't really detest me."

She gave him a look of warning while she began levitating the bubble containing her cat towards a safe surface, and he sighed, "It probably has to do with the fact that I've had your favorite jumper hanging on my bedpost for some time now."

"Malfoy!" she cried indignantly.

He shrugged, "Maybe I like the smell of you? It's also so soft."

Hermione groaned in frustration and wiped a hand over her face, covering her eyes in a dramatic and exasperated way. She paused there for a moment and peaked out from beneath her hand to ask him, "The dark gray one with the sparkly thread in it?"

He nodded.

"Ugh!" Hermione let out a frustrated roar and threw her head back before turning towards the stairs with a vengeance. That march was cut short when she heard his chuckle over her shoulder, and she turned on him again.

"Do not think that you've gotten away with this, Malfoy! And don't for a second think that I won't come back on you ten-fold and revel in the suffering I inflict on you. If you insist on playing such childish games, then so shall I. You will be sorry for this, and I assure you. You will not see it coming."

He watched her as she succeeded in charging up the stairs and flinging his door open, emerging a few minutes later with her jumper and her bathroom tissue and shooting daggers at him through a glare from the overlooking level above. He stared at her open doorway once she disappeared through it and could not help the smirk he wore when he watched Crookshanks' bubble pop above the table. The cat dropped quickly down to his feet and gave an irate yowl before he tore off in the direction of his person. As soon as the beastly animal cleared its threshold, the door slammed shut, sending the common area into a foreboding silence.

Draco chuckled to himself, feeling victorious and resuming his writing within his journal, noting that this set of memories would definitely be one for the books.

The next few days passed in the same eerie silence that had consumed the common room once Hermione shut him out and shutting him out is precisely what she did. She had proceeded to ignore him, refusing to speak to him, and only interacting with him when absolutely necessary. He wondered if this was her way of getting back at him, and if it was, he was sorely disappointed. Though Draco was a clever man, and he knew very well of Hermione's vindictive side. It was simply a waiting game until she finally broke and lashed out. He was dreadfully excited, ready for her to retaliate just so he could thwart her plans and see her so frustrated again. It was his favorite hobby, and the anticipation was killing him.

Draco walked through the portrait to see her reading, perched upon the couch with her feet tucked comfortably beneath her. He gave the room a quick once over, noting that nothing seemed out of the ordinary and deflated a little to think this would not be the day that she would break. Sighing, he headed up to his room, supposing that he might as well read or write to pass the time since his favorite pastime insisted on ignoring him. Upon entering his room, however, he immediately noticed the problem. His journal was missing from his nightstand.

Smirking widely, he called to her over his shoulder as he scanned the room to see it stuck to the ceiling, "And here I thought you'd be more creative, Hermione. What a true disappointment this unoriginality is."

He received no response from her, also as expected, and he fully entered his room. He stood beneath the book and pulled out his wand. It's probably a simple sticking charm, too, he thought smugly. He held out his hand to catch it as he cast the spell to reverse the charm. Except he did not catch it. Rather, it moved further from him, slipping across the ceiling.

Draco furrowed his brow, deciding that this was at least interesting. He tried it again to see the same result and decided a different method was necessary. He cast a levitating charm to try to bring it down, but it only opened to shoot a paper arrow at him petulantly before sliding further away again.

"Ow," Draco complained as the arrow hit his chest with a slight sting. Beginning to lose patience, he tried a few more times only to receive a volley of paper arrows in his direction, cursing when he was forced to dodge the buggering sting. "Bloody book's a menace," he said to no one in particular, to which he was delivered a face full of ink spat out from the journal, and it promptly blew a raspberry and slid away once more.

"That's it," Draco told it, wiping his face carefully. He ran to try and jump towards it as the ceiling was not too high, but it kept moving just out of reach. At one point his fingers brushed against it, only to have it slip away again.

Growling and now thoroughly perplexed, he waved his wand for the next impulsive spell, "Accio, journal."

The book promptly closed and began floating towards him. Draco gave a victorious grin and reached for it, thinking that he should thank Hermione for her efforts later. Just when he was closing his grip around it, however, the journal flew open and squirted him in the face again, but this time with bubbles. He angrily grabbed for it, but it multiplied and kept blowing bubbles each time he did. What's more the bubbles and books began latching onto him, surrounding him and dragging him down. He tried pulling them off, but they stuck like adhesives to his clothes. Struggling, he made it to the door, almost covered in a bubble prison, and yelled down the stairs.

"Hermione! What in the bloody hell did you do to my journal!?"

Hermione coolly looked behind at him and pleasantly smiled, "Oh my, what do we have here? Forget to wash off the suds in the bath, Draco?"

Draco spat as bubbles tried to cover his face, "Don't be daft, Hermione. What did you do?"

"I told you there would be consequences," she told him.

He growled at her, "I see that, but as you can see I've learned my lesson, so tell me what you did so that I can undo it!"

She tutted at him. He was beginning to be lifted from the ground bit by bit as the bubbles concentrated to form a chamber. She sighed with pretend boredom while thoroughly amused, "I wonder if this is what poor Crooks felt like."

Draco glared at her through the bubbles, his voice muffled, "I get it, Hermione, just make it stop already! I don't hold the grace your cat does to land on my feet if this thing pops from too high. Make it stop!"

Hermione placed a hand under her chin as she leaned on the back of the couch, "Not until you apologize."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" he yelled down, "I'm sorry for messing with your things just to rile you."

She shook her head, "Not to me. Apologize to Crookshanks."

She pointed to her cat lounged lazily in the single plush chair next to her. Crookshanks blinked slowly, almost expectantly.

"Don't be ridiculous," he shot back, "I will not apologize to a cat!"

Hermione flipped her hair and turned away, "Have it your way. Oh, and the spell wears off in about two hours."

"Agh, fine!" Draco exclaimed, "Crookshanks, I am sorry for putting you in a bubble unjustly after taking an item of Hermione's that you were drawn to investigate into my room. You were innocent, and I had no reason for drawing you into my teasing of Hermione."

Hermione turned and smiled, "Thank you." She released the spell and walked the steps towards him once he fell.

"Don't mention it," he told her, breathless, he looked up at her through his fringe.

"Teasing, huh?" She asked him, slightly amused, "That's what you'd call it."

"Heh," he let out a breath and smirked in return, "actually I'd call it foreplay."

Instead of blushing like he expected her to, Hermione looked a little more amused, "Foreplay? How do you figure that one?"

Draco smirked and stretched out on the floor where he'd landed, "Oh, it's easy," he told her, "Every time you're fired up, your face flushes in the most appealing way."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, cocking an eyebrow but still maintaining no other reaction to his words, "And that is foreplay because…?"

Draco scoffed with impatience, placing his arms beneath his head, "Because your face looks quite a bit like that when you're squirming in pleasure, I imagine. And if I keep pushing and poking at you, eventually you'll break and react in a way that shows me exactly how much of you blushes like that…in more ways than one."

As he neared the last few words of his reveal, Draco did not seem able to stop himself at all from what he was saying. His brows drew together while he analyzed why he felt almost compelled to answer somewhat against his own volition.

Suddenly he sprang up so quickly, Hermione had no time to react, and he placed a hand on her shoulder once he stood to his full height, peering down into her face intimidatingly, "Did you use Veritaserum in those bubbles, Hermione?"

Hermione's eyes widened for a moment, caught in her ploy to obtain information to use against him later, and she sheepishly replied, "Well, not exactly…"

Draco's palm pressed more firmly against her, willing her to look at him, "Then what was it, exactly?"

Her eyes shifted while she wondered the best way to phrase it. Draco's jaw twitched while he waited, watching her closely. It was not that he minded her knowing, as she would have realized eventually, or he would have told her in some clever way. However, it is never one's desire to have the truth stolen from one's lips. It always made for untimely and often too revealing complications within a relationship, one could say.

"Hermione…" he warned.

"It wasn't a truth serum," she blurted, "at least not by definition. You aren't entirely forced to tell the truth. You have to want to, internally. It's sort of a knock-off of my own creation, and it wasn't meant to get you to say what you did. I only wanted to tease you with whatever you admitted later. I never expected for you to admit you fancy me."

Draco withdrew is hand from her, silently cheering that he once again held the upper hand while he watched her squirm, hesitant with thought that she had angered him. He inhaled deeply and shoved his hands in his pockets before replying, "Are you sure?"

Hermione's eyes flicked up at him from her gaze on the floor, mildly defiant, "What do you mean? I should know if I created it."

"No," Draco told her, taking a slow step closer and invading her space, "I meant that if you weren't trying to fish for that particular piece of information, then why would you ask the questions you did? Hmm?"

He leaned toward her and Hermione let out a squeak when her back connected with the wall. She had not realized she had been retreating until he'd cornered her against it. He placed a measured hand on the wall on her side nearest the stairs, further caging her between him and it, her only escape route would be to try and slip into his bedroom, but at this point, Hermione felt that that would not be the most intelligent move. She met his eyes, her cheeks steadily reddening, and he cast her another smirk, one that seemed awfully predatory. She swallowed, feeling all the more trapped with the fluttering it stirred in her chest.

"I think," Draco continued, pretending to ponder while never taking his eyes from hers. He paused, using his free hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, then deliberately bent down, tilting his head towards her, consequently bringing his lips only a hairs breadth from the shell of her ear and causing her to shiver when she felt his warm breath whisper against her skin, "that you asked because you wanted to know. That's because you're interested, too, isn't it? You want to know if all that frustration I make you feel is two-fold. Isn't that right, Hermione?"

The way he said her name was like honey dripping from his tongue, and Hermione only just recognized the sound of her own whimper drawn from her like he was pulling at her strings. She felt hot, and perhaps a little dizzy. It was intoxicating, and she went over and over in her head exactly how they had ended up here. Surely, he was toying with her. He could not be serious. But he had to be. Her concoction within the bubbles might not be fully realized, but she knew its most immediate effects. What's more he wanted to tell her, and that shocked her more than the thought that he could feel some type of way about her. Keeping it to oneself and a confession were two entirely different things, the implications of the latter had her head spinning.

"I don't know," she managed, "I-I never really thought about it like – like this."

"Hmm," was her response, "well when you know, you know where to find me."

His words had barely registered before he had vanished, and Hermione found herself opening her eyes in a daze. She slumped against the wall, suddenly feeling the urge to fan herself to stem the heat she felt surrounding her in waves. She took a deep breath and quickly righted herself, not bothering to look in the direction of his now closed door as she made her way to her own. She beelined for her bathroom once inside, for some reason feeling an intense need for a cold shower.

Hermione could not manage taking a cold shower. Partially because she'd never much liked the feel of any cold, wet thing, and partially because it was not seeming to work. She did not understand it, and she knew she should not be reacting this way. Besides, it was Malfoy. They were not friends. He was a tosser most of the time, and while he was ridiculously attractive by any standards, she had never had any unsavory thoughts about him like this before, so why should she now? Well, that isn't entirely true, her inner voice said, reminding her of the more often than not instances when the man in question would wander out of his rooms in nothing but his thin pajama pants hanging from his slender hips while she sat in the big chair more so facing the stairs while reading. It did not help that she read so many bodice ripper novels in her spare time, or that his body looked like a cross between a Veela and a god.

Hermione shook the thoughts from her head as the water turned warm once more. No. They had a system, she told herself. It would not do to act rashly just because he had fun teasing her. She groaned. Some system. All it did was stress her out when he refused to follow the rules just to get under her skin, and then he goes and says things like that out of the blue right when she thought she'd finally had the upper hand and makes her all hot and bothered for no earthly reason. Hermione leaned against the wall of the shower in defeat, allowing the now hot water to beat a massaging rhythm against her body. She should probably change it cold again, lest she began to have suggestive images of the bane of her existence once more.

But what's the harm if no one has to know? Her inner voice rang. It was right. She was alone, and if she was frustrated, then there really was no harm in handling it. It had been a while anyway, right? Maybe she just needed to relax, and then she could get him out of her mind. Then she would get her vengeance for his playing mind games like this.

Yes, the internally vowed, just once to get it out of her mind, and then she could go on normally.

She forced her over-analytical thoughts out of her mind while she slowly slid a hand down her stomach. She sighed when she found herself soaking wet, and not from the water. Telling herself to relax, she slowly swiped a finger along her seam, spreading her legs and tingling when she swiped along her clit. She drew lazy circles around the nub, feeling extra stimulated as the water droplets hit her nipples at just the right angle and pressure repeatedly.

"Mmm," Hermione moaned to herself, picking up speed as she dipped her fingers between her folds for more juices to rub around her clit. Her other hand came up to tug at her now sensitive nipples and she moaned some more, letting her imagination run its own accord for this little while. This was her time. She might as well enjoy it.

She trailed her hand toying with her nipples down her front, slipping it to her back once after reaching her hip and kneading her own bum while pretending that it was not her own hand. All the while she did not stop working herself with the other hand, swirling around her clit at various speeds before dipping her fingers between her folds and back again. She could feel the familiar build of pressure in her lower abdomen and decided that it was time for her second hand to join in. After teasing the sensitive skin of her upper inner thigh for a brief moment, she dipped her fingers in for juices from her first hand one last time before plunging two from the other hand into her wanting cunt.

"Ah," she allowed a groan. Her eyes squeezed shut as she rode her own hand, pumping in and out steadily needing more, wishing and pretending it was more than just her hand while she greedily swiped her clit. Her legs started to shake, and she sped up even more, intending to finish just before her legs could give out. She leaned into the corner of the shower for more support and propped on leg on the side of the tub while the water still pelted her nipples. She felt her body tense, and she went even harder, curling her fingers up inside her while she felt her own pussy clench. She was so close. She sped up her hand on her clit, swiping tenderly and quickly over the nub instead of around it and soon she was losing control. Hermione came with a loud and throaty moan, biting her lip and slowing her hands as her pussy clenched around her fingers and her body slowly turned to jelly. She sighed contentedly before removing her friends, swiftly cleaning off and exiting the shower feeling refreshed.

Hermione stepped out of the shower to find that she had forgotten to restock her towels after she had done laundry earlier that day, but she simply shrugged and shook off before waltzing into her room. That was the glory of living alone and having her own bathroom. She could lounge around in the nude all day within her own quarters if she so pleased. She had half a mind to do so as she reached for a towel, working on drying her face and front while thinking that she had no reason to leave her room for the rest of the day anyway. She started toweling her hair in a daze, lost in thought, when she heard a knock at her door.

"Hermione?" the voice called softly, the person on the other side waited a moment before cracking the door open a tiny bit, "Hermione, are you in there?"

Still in a daze, she answered without thinking about the fact that she was still quite naked outside of the towel she held in her hands, "Yes? What do you want?" She told the man on the other side, having recognized his voice.

Taking her response as an allowance of entry, and her saying nothing immediately to indicate otherwise, Malfoy hesitantly entered, starting to speak, "Hermione, I wanted to apologi – oh, blimey, Hermione, why didn't you say something?!"

Malfoy speedily turned around, but not before Hermione saw the color in his cheeks, helping her to register why exactly he was so surprised. She gasped sharply at her exposure, quickly wrapping the towel tightly around her before attempting to come up with a response, "Wha – Well, you're the one who barged in here! What is so important that you need to say it now, Draco?"

He stopped in his tracks with a hand poised on the door frame, and she saw his shoulders go a little slack. He spoke quietly and without facing her, "I wanted to apologize. Not for what I've done to mess with you, exactly, but what I said earlier and for the way I said it. I've been thinking of you as a friend for quite some time now, and I enjoy your company, but that in no way means that I know how you feel about me. I say this because I feel it's wrong to try and force you to think about something so suddenly after coming on so strong. For that, I am sorry."

Hermione stared at his back for a moment, thinking hard about what to say or how to respond. He sounded so sincere, and it made her heart ache for some strange reason to think that he might be hurt or let down because of her lack of knowing how she felt and her consequential lack of response, especially after she had all but pried his confession from him in a ploy to get him back for the things he had done to her, but the things he did were harmless, really, and for all the times he had teased her with the memories, he had never moved to use any of those things against her or to glean personal information out of her in order to use it against her later. Unlike what she had done.

She was feeling very guilty when she heard his voice from the door once more, back still to her out of respect of her indecency and his words carrying a weight of a nervous boy afraid for his heart, "I suppose that is all I wished to say. You don't have to say anything in response. Thank you for your time."

As he politely clicked the door closed, Hermione's mind ran wild with possible reasonings and began to connect the dots, specifically surrounding the common factors of every instance of his pranks on her. The journal. He always had his writing journal out just at the precise moment she was preparing to lay into him he pulled that time, and no matter how angry she got or the foul words she used to describe how inconsiderate he was, he only kept smirking at her infuriatingly. Then, after, she would find him writing again, on occasion catching a quick flash of a real smile to himself. All of a sudden, Hermione felt the inconsiderate one, and immediately bounded out her door to chase after him, her hand clutching the towel tightly to her chest to keep it from coming loose.

"Draco!" she called to him when he was almost to his door.

Draco turned, first confused, then wide-eyed to see she was in a towel, addressed her, "Hermione? What –?"

"I'm sorry," she cut him off.

His brow furrowed while he looked at her, "Why are you sorry?"

"For everything," she blurted, before she elaborated due to his perplexed expression, "All this time, I've been harping at you for the stunts you pull for being inconsiderate, but instead I understand now that I've been the inconsiderate one. I didn't once stop to think of the consequences my own pranks could have on you when now I know that you never meant anything untoward in the first place, and instead you carefully considered me and my reactions when you concocted whatever wild plan. That and I never saw you get angry once, regardless of how rudely I would respond when I was upset. I suppose I was too thick to think that you could ever have real feelings, friendly or otherwise, towards me, thereby enforcing my inconsiderateness. And I further failed to imagine that you would ever like me, if that's what you feel, because I was too caught up in my own selfishness to stop and think about you for a moment."

Draco's eyes searched her face briefly when she took a breath and waited. "So," she continued, looking him in the eye, "for that I am sorry. From here on I will do my part as a partner and friend to pay better attention to you, too."

His eyes fell to the floor as he processed the information from her rambled apology, not that he minded anyway. After a minute or two of careful thought and the pleasure of seeing Hermione squirm before he accepted her apology, he drew his eyes up to meet hers once more, leisurely pulling them over her petite frame before him.

"What makes you think I couldn't like you?" he asked her curiously.

Hermione was momentarily struck, locking eyes with him again. She was startled by the look he was giving her. She could not interpret it, but it made her chest flutter all the same. She opened her mouth to desperately try and explain her logic so that he could see how she saw them and the reason why it just would not work.

"Well, I mean," she started uncertainly, "you're Draco Malfoy, and-and I am Hermione Granger. We're opposites. It-it just – we wouldn't just be attracted to one another so suddenly. Even if opposites attract, it wouldn't just happen overnight, now would it?"

Draco tilted his head at her, "who says these feelings just blossomed overnight? Tell me, Hermione. Have you ever thought of me in any way past friendship? Say…romantically? Or sexually?"

Hermione gulped, swearing that he'd put an emphasis on the word "sexually" just to make her nervous. There's no way he knew, right? She was not even in the shower for that long. There was no way.

"I-I believe that you are attractive, yes, and I always have a little bit. I can face the fact that denying it would be a crime because – well because you're sort of beautiful in this untouchable way. And I suppose that I have thought of you as a friend for some time, but I never considered anything past that because I didn't think that you would feel the same way about me. Then I come to find out that apparently you have feelings for me and you want me, meaning that you've felt this way for even longer than I can comprehend because it's all thrown me for a loop. Especially that I missed it. I didn't see it, and that really gets under my skin because I don't like knowing things. You know that. And then I think of all the things you could possibly know about me and that it's probably more than I know about you –"

She was cut off from her rant by his chuckle, and for a second, she was about to be upset that he was laughing at her when all she was trying to do was be honest until he placed a very slightly calloused hand on her cheek in the most tender ways before saying, "Hermione, you're rambling."

Hermione flushed and peered at him as he withdrew his hand to boyishly shove them in his pockets. "So, listen," he told her, "You like me, am I right?"

Unable to say anything more in the moment, Hermione simply nodded, unsure of where he was taking this. He smirked at her in a way that was strangely sweet, "And you think I'm…sort of beautiful, right?"

She nodded again.

Draco nodded, too, as if confirming a thought and sighed, "Then why fight this?"

His thumb brushed her cheek. He was so close now, and Hermione could do nothing to calm the pounding of her heartbeat, now noticing that he had edged his way closer, leaving only inches of space between them. She could feel the heat radiating from him, and for some reason all she wanted was to sink into him.

"I don't know," she whispered.

"I know it seems sudden," he spoke so quietly, she had to strain to hear his reply, "but the reality is that you've simply chosen not to see it, not because you didn't return the feelings I've had for you for so long, but because you refuse to see yourself as I do, how intelligent and fiery and fucking beautiful you are, how you've completely consumed me. Do you want to know?"

Hermione felt so many things at once that she thought she'd explode. When she finally delivered a response, her voice sounded alien to her as if it was miles away, for she could not hear anything more than the sound of his words and the thudding of the both of their hearts beating out of their chests, "Yes, I…I don't want to fight it anymore."

"Then don't," he breathed out, and she could feel his breath ghosting her lips. She wanted to taste it, to taste him. "Be with me."

Hermione had scarcely registered her own nod and a barely there "Yes" before she was bringing her lips up to meet his as he descended. Her hands went to his hair and his to her waist as if they both felt the other was their anchor lest they be ripped apart suddenly. The kiss was tender, heated, longing, and heavy all in one. She tasted him now, and it was seemed so much more addictive than she'd ever imagined in the privacy of her own quarters. She could not get enough, and her body thrummed with the fear and excitement that she'd be swallowed up in the sea of emotions he drew from her, and she let herself go.

It felt like forever was never long enough when they parted, still standing but knees weak as they clung to one another. Their breaths came heavy and Draco rested his forehead against Hermione's, a witch he internally vowed to make his.

"You've no idea how long I've waited to do that," Draco admitted, still a bit breathless.

He felt Hermione shake her head lazily, "I think I've been waiting a long time for it, too, somehow."

Draco smirked at her meeting her eyes through his own lashes, only to remember then that she was still clad in her towel when he caught a glimpse of it. Whatever teasing remark he had planned fell silent on his lips as he trailed his gaze along the frame of the woman tucked in his arms. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she answered without opening her eyes, content in the moment.

"Why are you in a towel?"

Hermione made a small noise of confusion before looking down at herself and flushing, "Oh, I must have forgotten about it after I ran after you. I had just gotten out of the shower before erm… well, before you walked in."

Draco nodded, "Right… Did you not already take a shower this morning, Hermione?"

The witch blushed harder before collecting herself for a matter-of-fact response, attempting to play off whatever embarrassment she might have been feeling for his direct question, "Yes, well, after your little display that ended with me pressed against the wall next to your bedroom, I felt I needed one to process exactly what had happened."

Draco smirked broadly, causing Hermione's stomach to start doing somersaults, "You were thinking about me in the shower, hmm?"

She rolled her eyes, "How could I not after something like that? Things like that don't typically happen every day, least of all not to me. You can understand why I might have been a bit flustered."

She looked up to see his eyebrows raised with a mischievous look in his eyes and immediately rounded on him, "Don't you look at me like that, Draco. The purpose of the shower was to calm me down, not whatever sinister actions or thoughts you have running about in your head right now, so you can stop at any time."

"Do I make you nervous, Hermione?" He accentuated his question by pulling her flush against him by the waist, "There's no need to be shy. I already know that you want me. You told me so."

"That – that's beside the point, Draco. And even so, it provides no evidence that I did anything licentious in the shower while thinking about you."

"So, you admit that you were thinking about me," he determined, his voice slightly gravellier than it had been a minute earlier. Before she could think of a rebuttal to his accusations, he'd spun her around to place her back against the wall the same as he had done after the bubbles incident earlier that same day.

"Let's say, for argument's sake," he began, toying with one of her curls before slowly trailing his fingers along her neck down her exposed collar bone, "that you were doing something particularly naughty in the shower, Hermione. What is it that you imagined?"

Hermione's bottom lip quivered, but she didn't say anything, not trusting herself to speak.

"After all," Draco said rationally, dipping his head towards her neck and teasingly traced his lips along the shell of her ear in a barely-there manner, "did you not force an answer out of me before?"

Hermione shivered as he pulled away, smirking at her, and she looked up at him, confused.

"Come now, Hermione, I'm not going to force you," he told her reasonably, "I only wanted to put the thought in your head and make you think about how honest you want to be with me. I also wanted to give you the opportunity to go back and put clothes on before we continue our talk so that you aren't so…vulnerable. If we're doing this, I'll respect your wishes and be honest when I've tried to be pushy. Then all you have to do is ask me anything; I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

Hermione nodded, peering into his eyes. He was being a perfect gentleman and refused to take advantage of her. She knew that he was doing the wise thing, waiting until she said the word before he did anything rash. It was completely logical and partially self-preservative. Besides, they'd only just established that they each had been pining after the other in secret for a quite some time now, fearing that the other did not or that it was not possible for them to feel the same way. This was fact, and entirely reasonable, she told herself as she pushed away from the wall towards her bedroom, intent on putting on fresh clothes. But. Why was she so disappointed?

Hermione stopped in her tracks and turned back to her dormmate, determined, "Draco?"

He looked at her in answer.

"You said you'd answer anything I ask?"

He nodded.

She took a step towards him, "Suppose then, for argument's sake, that I was thinking about you in the shower. Suppose I was imagining how it would feel to have your hands touching me everywhere I moved mine. What would you say to that?"

Draco's eyes darkened, tracking her steady approach, "I would ask for more details and then ask if you wanted to make those dreams a reality."

Hermione breathed out heavily as she took her final step towards him, within arm's reach, "And suppose I said I did and that I wanted you right now?"

Draco's nostrils flared, and Hermione silently appreciated the bit of color that painted his cheeks, feeling the tension soar with her question, "I'd tell you that all you had to do was say the word, and you'd have me."

Hermione looked up at him through her lashes, feeling wildly sexy as she set her mind free to let her body say what it wanted for once. It was not that she had much experience or that she did not know what she was doing. Instead, it was simply Hermione releasing her inhibitions to do something a little reckless, something that this man brought out in her in more ways than one. This time, her recklessness was dying to make this man want her, to bring him to his knees, to drive him crazy like he did to her, so she drove on.

"Good," she told him, watching his movements carefully, internally jumping with glee as she watched him squirm, nearly coming unhinged while waiting on her next words.

"I want you."

In the next few moments the towel dropped, and she was in his arms faster than she could say quidditch. There was no more thinking about it, Hermione told herself. If she woke up in the morning and realized it was all a dream, she'd do her best to live it all over again. Before they had even reached his bedroom, in a tangle of limbs Hermione had helped Draco out of his shirt and was working on the zipper to his trousers, and his back met the door.

"Merlin, Hermione," Draco gasped. Hermione heard herself giggle as she redirected him into the room, him all too willing to be guided into his own chambers, knowing that he had imagined moments like this one himself. She was doing a number on him already as he stumbled out of his trousers after kicking them down his legs. They were all legs and lips and libidos and a little bit of something electric like their magic was itching for its own connection. Once his boxers followed, Draco decided that Hermione deserved to feel as much like putty as he did in her hands at that moment. Lifting her up, he wrapped her legs about his waist, both groaning at the sensation of being so close without being fully connected. Draco slid his hands up her waist slowly while she clung to him, inching towards her perky breasts. He brushed his fingertips along the underside of them before withdrawing once he felt her shift forward to try and make his hands connect with her chest. He teased her like this a few times before Hermione let out a cry of frustration. She pulled his hair back in retaliation, placing hot, open mouth kisses on his neck to his ear, nipping smartly each time followed by a sweet sweep of her tongue on her way. Draco hissed when she tugged on his earlobe, and reached up to tweak her nipples, chuckling when the action earned him a yelp.

Before Hermione could respond in kind yet again, Draco quickly moved to the bed, none to gently placing her on its surface before reaching for his wand from his nightstand. Hermione hummed at the sensation of the most comfortable bed she had ever laid on and the silken sheets caressing her bare skin while she watched him, "Tired already, Draco?" she taunted, "Don't want to play anymore?"

Draco smirked, "Not bloody likely woman. I just have to ask one more time before I perform the Contraceptive Charm."

Hermione nodded.

Draco's smile widened briefly before casting the charm, and when he looked at her again, the look on his face said more than words could. Hermione's heart raced. She was unable to stop the flush from adorning her skin in a pinkish hue once she looked into his eyes and immediately felt excited and terrified and nervous and sexy and Merlin did she want him all at the same time. He approached her deliberately, stopping at the foot of the bed and pulling her towards him and sitting her up. He cupped her cheek in his hand tenderly for a moment, and time stopped, the look in his eyes unreadable. Slowly, he brushed a curl from her brow and feathered kisses across her cheeks and neck with such a tenderness that Hermione closed her eyes. She breathed in sharply when she felt a pinch on the top of her right breast and looked down to see he had bitten her and was now languidly moving his tongue over the abused flesh. His expression and the sudden thrilling cross between pleasure and pain sent a shot of heat strait to her core, and she bit her lip while she watched him. Unhurriedly, he switched to the other breast, this time on the inner underside, and Hermione's gasp was more of a breathy moan. As he moved southward over her stomach and reached her hip, Hermione squirmed and realized that at some point she'd threaded her fingers into his silky platinum locks, massaging his scalp and tugging slightly in encouragement every time she felt his teeth against her skin.

Already in a daze, Hermione watched as he knelt, opening her legs a little more so that he was seated between them. She felt his bite and tongue on her inner thigh and his breath at her core, and she met his gaze. Hermione bit her lip in anticipation, hardly believing what was happening and tightening her fingers in his hair, and then his tongue and lips were there. She let out a moan and swore she heard him hum in delight at the sound. Hermione tried her best to keep her hips still while her hands clenched and unclenched in his hair when he dipped his tongue in between her folds. Draco built a steady rhythm in the pattern of sweeping his sinful tongue along her slit, teasing her nether lips lightly with his teeth, and using his tongue again to swirl it briskly around her clit. All while she was distracted with these sensations, Draco hooked one arm under her leg to grasp and stabilize her hip and moved the other hand ever slowly up the inside of the other leg, fingertips tracing their way to her apex. When he reached her slick folds, he gave her one last sweep of his tongue before plunging two fingers inside her cunt and latched onto her swollen nub.

Hermione cried out and immediately bucked her hips, adjusting to a small rock with his fingers as they delved in and out of her in a beckoning motion, "Gods, Draco…" she gasped out breathless.

Hermione held to his hair as he picked up speed, bringing the back of one hand to her mouth and bit down on her whimpers of pleasure while he worked her. She felt the familiar burning sensation coil within her, and he kept it building relentlessly. Hermione's hips twitched once, twice, and Draco drove his fingers into her with a brush of his tongue along her clit, and she came, feeling delightfully sinful as she rolled her hips into his tongue lapping up her juices after orgasming for the second time that day. Internally, she admitted that reality was better, and regardless of the result, she would never be able to forget how Draco Malfoy had just made her come undone. Not that she wanted to anyhow.

As Draco stood before her, she reached for him, wanting to return the favor. He gently took her hands and shook his head, explaining, "Not today, love. I want to last for you."

"Oh," Hermione responded intelligently as she nodded and pulled him towards her, snogging him soundly while they scooted more fully onto the bed. Hermione let her hands roam as they did so, deciding that, she may as well become acquainted with the feel of his chest and arms and strong back before she was distracted by other things, including the possibility that she might just need those steady shoulders to hold onto depending on the pace at which Draco decided to take things, and she had the distinct feeling that he would not be able to hold off much longer.

Draco kept one of his hands cupped on the outside of Hermione's breast and used the other for stability as he guided her up the bed, and he felt his desire for her grow impossibly more while he felt her hands on him and her lips on his while their tongues battled for dominance. He brought her to a stop in the bed's center with a firm hand accompanied with ending the kiss by bringing her bottom lip between his and gently pulling it with his teeth. This action elicited a small, breathy mewl from the witch beneath him, and he sat back on his knees to take in the sight of her and to remind himself that this was really happening. Noticing her slightly tense under his gaze, he immediately shook his head, "Do you have any idea just how beautiful you are?"

Hermione stilled then, words dying before they passed her lips, for they were covered by Draco's once more. She melted into him. She arched her back into his touch, the feel of his full bare form pressed along hers overwhelming and consuming, the sensation much like the steady roar of a low and hot fire, rolling over the embers and coals. Soon touch became too much and not enough, and Hermione felt his erection prod against first her hip and then her inner thigh while Draco moved his lips over her neck and shoulder, intent on tasting every inch of her. Hermione reached down between them, grasping his member firmly in her hand, earning a low moan from Draco. Steel grey eyes met honey brown ones, and together, she with her hand and him with his hips, guided his appendage to her waiting core.

Once he was properly aligned, Hermione slowly withdrew her hand, instead leaning back to raise her hips and accept him as he entered her. Draco let out a breath after fully sheathing himself inside of her, panting along with her while they waited for only a moment while she adjusted to his length. Then he moved. Instantly, Hermione responded, as impatient to feel him as he was for her. He picked up a slow rhythm and she met him thrust for thrust, rolling her hips into his. Draco groaned, "Fuck. You're really trying to make it so that I don't last, aren't you?"

A contented, passionate hum was his only response when she pulled him down to capture his lips, followed by relentless hot kisses along his neck, pausing at the sweet spot to latch on a little harder, sure to leave a mark. With a growl he leaned back, pulling her hips along with him while he sat on his knees, and she propped herself up on her elbows while he went impossibly deeper. Hermione could not fathom the way he took her, almost as if she was his lifeline, almost as if… she was it for him, and he was trying desperately to make her see it through every thrust, every touch. It only turned her on even more.

Hermione heard herself cry out as he hit that spot after angling her hips, and she saw the telltale trace of a smirk on his lips, priding himself on his abilities, as it were. She wanted to take that smirk right off his face and make him tip over the edge, too, so although her body was already near its limit about to be engulfed and spasming in pleasure for the third time, she kept moving her hips along with his and clenched purposefully around him. The action drew a moan from the both of them, and Hermione almost broke with the look he gave her through the hair in his face. He pulled her up then, keeping them aligned at an angle but sitting her up just slightly more, with her hands on his shoulders so that she felt every combined thrust with a little more force. She kissed him quickly through another gasp of pleasure and leaned back to ride him with fervor of the last mile. It was not long then before Hermione threw her head back and Draco burrowed his head into her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her to keep her from losing balance as they rode out the mutual orgasms together. It was not clear who exactly tipped over the edge first, but as he lowered her to the bed again and stared down at her, it became certain that they would more likely than not find themselves in a position like this again. They languidly kissed while they laid there, and he withdrew from her slowly with a sigh, pulling the covers up to cover them, and they just stayed close together with her head on his chest, unspeaking, as if anything that could have been said had just been. They closed their eyes.

Neither was sure how long they laid there, snuggling one another, but most certainly Hermione had dozed off a couple times, more stated than she had been in a very long time.

"Hey, Hermione," his voice prodded her from her half-asleep daze. She blinked and lifted her head from his chest in silent question, "Whatever did you do with my real journal?"

Hermione could not help but grin, though she still refused to speak and instead pointed towards the nightstand closest to his side. Draco raised an eyebrow at her before glancing first at the furniture piece then back to her once more. Offering an amused half-smile, he shifted just so he could reach the drawer. She heard him chuckle softly when he saw it sitting unassumingly in the drawer. Closing it again, he shifted back and peered down at her, "Of course, it was there the whole time."

Hermione gave him a small giggle of her own, and he shook his head before pressing his lips to her forehead. "What is it that you write in there anyway?" she asked him.

Draco looked at her again, appearing to debate if he wanted to tell her or see her squirm for a bit while he left her wanting to know. Deciding that he had other ways to make the latter happen, he spoke, "That journal is where I record all my favorite memories. I could use a pensive, but I like writing them down, especially when they're about you."

"Oh," Hermione stated with a nod, "I could've guessed a bit of that. What memory is your favorite?"

He raised both eyebrows as if to ask if she was serious, and she blushed prettily, averting her eyes, "Oh. Right."

He laughed softly and nudged her, "There will be more, and there is more than one reason why it's my favorite right now. Not only did I get the privilege of worshipping your beautiful body as I felt you've always deserved, but I finally know that you feel much the same as I do, even if we learned that through less than conventional methods, and even if you don't pay me any attention unless I bug you."

She slapped his chest playfully, "That is not true."

Draco laughed, "No, I know," he agreed, "but regardless, this memory is definitely one for the books."

Hermione grinned, agreeing with the last part of his statement completely, and suddenly felt as though she should initiate another great memory in the making when she kissed him sweetly before swinging her leg over him and sitting up. She giggled when Draco shot her a surprised look, but he moved to rest his hands on her hips anyway, already donning a sizable erection. Biting her lip, Hermione firmly grasped him in her hand before slowly sinking down on him again, flushing a little when she heard the both of them give a little sigh filled with desire. Immediately they began a steady rhythm, in no rush and just wanting to feel one another, getting to know their feelings and the desires each felt, as they climbed towards the start of a new chapter of their lives. This time, however, it would begin together.