It's no use, Hermione thought miserably as she lay on her back on her four poster bed, staring up at the ceiling. I just can't stop thinking about him. She felt exhausted with her efforts of avoiding him, of trying to get the image of his smile out of her head. Every day, after class, she rushed back to the Head dormitory and hid in her room, terrified that she would see him and that he would guess how she felt. Waiting until she knew he was gone on his rounds before she left to start hers. I'm a coward, she thought. How did I get sorted into Gryffindor?
It hadn't always been like this. Of course she had spent the good portion of her time at Hogwarts hating him with a passion. But around about fifth year, she had started to notice different things about him, started to find herself staring at him when he was talking to his friends, wondering what it would be like to have him grin at her like that, what it would be like to have a conversation with him that didn't involved insults. She thought about what it would be like to be alone with him. Just alone: maybe walking together. Or sitting together. No more than that.
At first it was innocent, and she would steal glances at him at meals and in class. Wondering what his light blond hair, which had grown gradually untidier as he got older, looked like up close, what it felt like. Once in Care of Magical Creatures she had been standing behind him as Hagrid showed them how to feed the thestrals and she had been close enough to touch his hair, to smell him. She thought she had never smelled anything so good, so nice before. He smelled like the woods, like the trees only softer, more…something. She had to force herself to not touch his hair, to not lean against his back, wrap her arms around him and inhale deeply.
And then one day he had caught her looking at him. He had glared at her like he always did, but there had been something else in his stare as well. A softness that made her face heat up and her breath catch. And then he had smirked, amused, before she looked away in horror. When she had snuck a glance back at him, he was still looking at her, now with a curious expression, and when he saw her look at him again, he smiled. And it had been a real smile.
That was last year. When she had returned for her seventh year and found out that he had been made Head Boy, she was initially elated: she would get to be close to him, and without suspicion from anyone else, especially from him. But as she realized how close their quarters would actually be, her elation had turned to painful nervousness bordering on anxiety. She was constantly afraid that he would see her feelings, that he would hear her calling out his name in her dreams which had become increasingly delightful and always revolved around kissing him, or touching him, or being held by him, or making love to him.
The first night they had stayed in the dormitory together, she had walked into the common room around midnight to find one of her books and had seen him dozing off on the couch, his potions textbook open on his chest. She had stood there staring at him for the longest time. He just looked so beautiful. And then he had opened his eyes to look directly into hers. He had given her the same smile he had at the end of last term. Curious, amused.
"Does it begin now? This stalking me while I sleep?" he had said, grinning.
She had felt her stomach drop at the sound of his voice, at being caught watching him sleep. She felt her face heat up and she knew she was turning pink, but she still couldn't tear her eyes away from him. She forced herself to speak, feeling herself blush.
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"I…I'm not," she had whispered nervously, mild panic in her soft brown eyes. Draco had felt how uncomfortable she was, and he had to admit he liked it. She was blushing furiously, and when he had jokingly suggested that she was stalking him, he could almost taste her embarrassment: it came off of her in waves. He felt something stir in him and was suddenly more excited than he could ever remember being. She looked so cute, so guilty, standing there biting her lip shyly. He found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss her. I see little Granger still has a crush on you, Goyle had said that night at dinner. He had scoffed at the time, but now that he thought about it, she had started acting oddly around him sometime in the last year. And now here she was, looking at him as if she were fascinated, staring at him, her cheeks undeniably pink.
He had hardly had time to process all of this when she abruptly turned and raced back into her room, shutting the door quickly behind her.
That had been their first night back. Now as he sat in the common room after class, he knew she was hiding from him in her room. They were assigned different rounds as Head Boy and Head Girl, and thus she could avoid him during those too, as he was assigned to patrol the dungeon and Ravenclaw tower, and she had been assigned to Gryffindor tower and the Hufflepuff wing. At the prefect meeting last night she had avoided his eyes as well, stammering thank you when he held the door for her on their way out.
This is ridiculous, he thought to himself. I'm going in there. He had no idea what to say to her, but he nevertheless stood up and walked over to her bedroom door and knocked. He could swear he heard a gasp from inside, and he smiled. He heard her slowly walk over to the door. There was a long pause before the door opened a bit. She stared at him through the opening in the door, a guilty expression on her face.
"Granger. Can I come in, please?" he asked gently. A look of terror flashed in her eyes, but she swallowed and stepped aside, opening the door wider.
"Sure," she said, and he walked through the door. She stood there, her arms folded, obviously not knowing what to say. He looked at her thoughtfully, weighing his words carefully.
After a few moments he said, "Would you like to play a game of chess with me?" Instantly he saw relief flood into her eyes, and he sensed her entire body relax. He grinned at her. "Want to?"
She giggled and scratched her nose nervously. "I'm not that great at it, but sure. I suppose." She looks so cute, he thought. I wonder what she thought I was going to say.
"Do you have a set?" he asked. She went over to her desk drawer and opened it, taking out a battered wizard chess set that she had gotten from Ron for Christmas in fourth year.
Malfoy took it from her and walked over to the bed, climbing onto it and setting up the board. After he had finished, he looked over to see Hermione looking at a spot on the floor by her foot. "Hey," he said softly. "Are we going to play?" She looked up at him, and he saw that she was again blushing. She looked at the bed, and back at the floor, crossing her arms again. Malfoy grinned.
"Oh, because I'm on your bed? Well, I sometimes play chess on my bed, it was the natural place for me to set the board up." She looked at him, blushing.
"No, that's…that's fine," she mumbled, walking over and getting up on the bed.
Draco felt a warmth spread through him as he saw the way she was sitting, with her feet curled up under her like a little kid. He noticed with amusement that her socks were the same shade of green as his tie. How very un-Gryffindor of you, Granger, he thought to himself with a smirk. He stared at her, and he could tell she was avoiding his eyes. "Are you having a rough day, Granger? You look a little tired. Have you been sleeping well?" he asked her as they played. She hadn't been lying, she was bad at chess. He was already beating her quite badly and they had just started.
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"Er…no, not really," she said softly, feeling her whole body tremble. Oh no, she thought frantically, he is here in my room on my bed. What am I supposed to do? I think I'm going to pass out…
"And why is that? What's been on your mind?" he asked to her horror. She felt herself blush for what felt like the hundredth time since he had come into her room and thought to herself miserably, because I've been thinking about kissing you…that's why.
"I…I don't know," she answered, avoiding his eyes. "I just can't seem to sleep anymore. I've had…strange dreams." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. She looked up and saw Draco looking at her thoughtfully.
"What kind of dreams? Nightmares?" he asked, stretching out on the bed, lying on his stomach and propping his face up with his hand. Hermione stared at him, inches from her, and was suddenly sure she would never be able to speak again. All rational thought flew out of her head. Draco grinned at her, his grey eyes twinkling.
"Did you hear a word I just said?" Draco asked
"I…yes. I…no, not nightmares exactly," she stammered, unable to meet his eyes. "Just…just weird dreams, that's all." She snuck a glance at him, and he nodded.
"Yes, dreams can be really powerful. I have a lot of weird dreams myself. Are you dreaming about a particular person or a place?" he asked, the chessboard forgotten, as he continued looking at her thoughtfully.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. She cleared her throat and said in a small voice, "Well, sort of. A person, I guess." She instantly regretted saying it, as she saw Malfoy's eyes light up with interest.
Hermione nervously shifted away from him. Every time she caught his eye, she was afraid that she would never be able to look away. And here he was, his foot touching her leg, mere inches away from her, on her bed, grinning at her and asking about her dreams. Dreams that involved him.
She felt a blush creep over her entire body, along with a feeling that was more than embarrassment: it felt good, exciting. She looked up at him and a small voice inside her head whispered, Tell him. Tell him who you're dreaming about. Draco laughed, reaching over and touching her cheek. "You are blushing so hard, Granger. It's very cute," he said, his eyes twinkling.
She jerked away as if his hand had burned her, and looked down. "I'm not blushing," she mumbled, unable and unwilling to believe this was happening. She sighed, inwardly cursing her big mouth.
"You are," he said, grinning. She looked up at him, finally managing a shy smile.
"My dreams are really none of your business, Malfoy," she said, looking embarrassed.
He leaned closer to her. "Come on, Granger. At least tell me what he's like, if you don't want to tell me who he is." She struggled to speak, but was unable to. It was rather hard for her to form a coherent sentence while he was in such close proximity to her.
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"Are you in love with him?" Malfoy asked with a frown, feeling a bit jealous. "Do you think about him a lot? What's he look like? Is it Potter? Weasley?" She sighed, looking annoyed.
"It's not either of them, no," she said. Malfoy felt his heart grow lighter and the knot that had been in his stomach loosened considerably. Well, at least it's not either of those two gits. That's something, he thought, relieved. "Please stop asking me, Malfoy," she begged, her voice shaking.
"Hermione, just tell me what's so great about him. I want to know," he said, in a voice that was far more forceful than he intended. She looked at him, surprised. He felt his own face start to heat up. Shut up, Malfoy, he told himself, embarrassed.
He watched her as she bit her lip, thinking. When she spoke, it was so softly that he almost missed it. "He's beautiful," she said sadly. "He's so beautiful that when I look at him, it hurts." Malfoy stared at her, stunned. She had never told him anything remotely personal before, so for her to say this was quite a shock.
"That's so sweet," he said softly, as she looked up at him sadly. "But why don't you just tell him how you feel? I'm sure he would be happy to hear it." She shook her head rapidy, blushing again.
"No way. Besides, he wouldn't care," she said, nervously biting her fingernail. "He'd just laugh at me." He started to tell her that she was mistaken, but stopped himself. Instead of speaking, he slid over to her and pulled her to him. As she leaned against him, his hand rubbing her back, he could feel her heart beating, hear her soft breathing against his neck. Oh, Hermione, he thought, this bloke doesn't know what he's missing. I would want you...
As he held her, loving how sweet her body felt leaning against his, he felt a stab of disappointment as he thought how Goyle had been wrong. She was obviously interested in someone else. He leaned back to looked at her. It may have been his imagination, but he thought he felt her cling to him a beat too long, unwilling to let him go. He stared at her, and she stared back at him, silent. I think I hate this guy, he thought, starting to grow extremely irritated. How dare he make her sad?
"Do I know this person? What house is he in?" Draco asked, trying to sound casual.
"Yeah, you know him. He's in Slytherin," she whispered, her eyes widening in dismay. She looked stricken by her own words.
Draco narrowed his eyes at her with interest. "Really. And what year is he in," he asked, feeling his own heart beat quicken suddenly. She couldn't mean…he thought as he looked at her. No. Couldn't be.
She swallowed, blushing ferociously. "Seventh, of course," she said, edging away from him nervously.
"Dark hair?" he asked, starting to grin. She shook her head slightly, still not looking at him.
"Blond," she mumbled.
"Athletic?" He moved closer to her.
"Very." She moved a bit further away from him.
"On his house team?" He reached over and slid his hand into her hair.
"Yes." She slapped his hand away.
"Beater?" He grabbed her foot, tickling it.
"No." She scowled and kicked him. Hard.
"Chaser?" He said, laughing.
"Not exactly." She closed her eyes in embarrassment.
"Seeker?" He leaned over and whispered in her ear, smiling.
"Sort of," she mumbled miserably.
She does mean me. She's been dreaming about me. She thinks…he felt a thrill as he remembered her words. "He's so beautiful that when I look at him, it hurts." He felt a tingling sensation spreading through him as he watched her expression turn to one of recognition as she realized what had just happened.
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Hermione covered her eyes with her hand, feeling a mixture of horror and relief. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, but she knew it was too late now. He knows, she thought, her heart beating out of her chest. "Hermione. I'm the only blond seeker on the Slytherin team that I know of." he said quietly, unable to hide his smirk. "The only blond, actually. The only seeker as well. You realize this, don't you?"
She looked up at him guiltily. Draco smiled, shaking his head. "Granger, you are something else," he said softly. He moved closer to her, his face inches from hers. He leaned to whisper in her ear and this time she didn't push him away as he breathed, "You think I'm so beautiful that it hurts to look at me?" She turned to stare at him, her eyes bright with something akin to panic.
He put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her down so that she was lying on the bed looking up at him. "Nobody has ever said anything quite like that about me before in my entire life," he said to her softly as he gazed down at her.
"They probably have. Just not to you directly." she whispered, her voice shaking. He grinned at her.
She tried to breathe normally, but it was impossible. Draco leaned down to kiss her, stopping just before he came to her lips. When Hermione leaned forward to kiss him, he smirked and moved back out of her reach, his hands pinning her shoulders to the bed. She gasped. He carefully watched her face heat up with excitement as he repeated the action: he leaned to kiss her and when she struggled to meet his lips he held her so that she couldn't reach him.
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"What do you want, Granger? Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it." He was enjoying himself immensely. Who knew a couple of years ago that teasing Granger this way could be so much more fun than being mean to her? he thought to himself as his own body started to heat up with excitement. He loved how she was struggling to get to his lips.
"Draco, please…" she whispered, to his delight. "Please let me kiss you," she said, a fresh blush creeping up her neck to her cheeks. He smiled, leaning down again and brushing her lips with his lightly. She gasped at the brief contact and he grinned.
"Mmm," he murmured, running his hand down her side to her hip, feeling her squirm against him. "You are so sweet. Tell me, Granger, how long have you felt this way about me?" he said, leaning down again and kissing her on her neck. He felt her shiver. He bit her gently and heard her whimper. He moaned and found her mouth with his, finally giving her a real kiss, pressing his lips to hers firmly, his mouth slightly opened, tasting her. Her arms went around him as she returned the kiss appreciatively.
"A long time," she gasped as he slipped his hand under her shirt to touch her stomach gently. "I've been thinking about you for years," she said, and he paused to look at her. He couldn't hide the surprise in his face.
"Years, Granger? You're kidding," he said, touching her face gently. "I never knew."
She avoided his eyes, blushing again and said somewhat crossly, "Well of course you didn't know. As I said before, it was none of your business." He laughed, leaning to kiss her again.
"Well if you had told me, we could have been doing this ages ago," he murmured in between kisses. "And these dreams you've been having…" he said, gazing down at her.
"Is this as nice as they are? I hope you're not disappointed." He laughed again at the expression on her face.
"This is so much better," she whispered seriously, her eyes shining. He smirked and kissed her again, this time not holding back the excitement that was building inside of him. He felt her whole body tremble as he crushed her with his, with his lips and his chest, his hands now grabbing her leg, her hip, stroking everywhere he could reach.
"Hermione," he murmured, squeezing her tightly as he nuzzled her neck, loving the little noises she was making. "How could you think I wouldn't care? Silly little Gryffindor," he said, kissing her again, feeling the heat coming off of her body. "I could get used to this," he whispered in her ear.
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A/N: In writing this story, I have come to three important conclusions that you may want to read before you review unnecessarily. They are as follows:
1. My stories are indeed all the same, in some cases identical. They are pointless, without plot, and completely and embarrassingly out of character. I hang my head in dramione shame.
2. Draco is my boyfriend. My real boyfriend. I live at Hogwarts, and we make out with each other all the time.
3. I may need to seek therapy.
Thanks for reading!
-sc