Monday, September 16, 1996
"You don't have to stay." The condescension booming in Draco's voice flipped the switch in Hermione back to reality. Could she not bloody once, just once, have thirty seconds of blissful silence post-orgasm? Of course not.
"Feel safe in knowing that's the last thing I want." The stone chilled Hermione's feet to the bone as she dropped them to the bedside. She immediately began reaching for the closest clothing she saw, first was her pleated skirt draped on the bed's corner.
Two weeks of this thing they were doing had yet to make them civil to one another, and she still couldn't imagine a world in which it could. As selfish and horrible as it all was, it was just so good. Nearly good enough to make up for who she was doing it with.
"Yes, please tell me even more about what you want, Granger." Draco released an aggravated groan of exasperation, his eyes rolling back. "Harder, faster, lower, to the left." He put on a voice to mimic Hermione's. "All I've heard for the last hour and a half is what you want." Draco tucked a hand underneath his head, stretched lazily across the bed.
Hermione could not believe he thought she would sound so breathy and high-pitched and incessant.
"There is absolutely nothing wrong with me being communicative in a sexual interaction, Malfoy. As if you kept quiet, practically willing to lose a leg just for me to blow you." Hermione snapped, turning to burn into Draco's eyelids with her glare.
"I was not that adamant a-"
"You nearly snapped my neck pushing my head down!" Hermione paused after snapping on her bra to take a step toward the bed, a palm in waving in the air in exclamation. "Not that adamant – my arse!"
As glad as Hermione was that she could yell into Draco's arrogant face without fearing being overheard, she had no want to know how he had been able to clear the dorm of pesky roommates yet again.
"How am I to be at fault for your lacking in reciprocation?" His pale nose was stuck in the air in a way that made Hermione nearly think of snapping it right off of his smug and pretentious and condescending face.
"As if you're just always going down on me. Let me know when you rejoin reality, Malfoy." Hermione had begun buttoning her shirt, and in her haste was fastening the buttons one hole higher than they were meant for.
"I do plenty down there, I will have you know!" Draco seethed, so affronted at her accusation that he sat up in the bed to properly express his offence.
"For thirty seconds until you get bored!"
"Who died and made you the master of time? You wouldn't know thirty seconds if it pulled the wand from your hand!" Draco reached out to grab Hermione's arm, pulling her back next to his bed. "I'll show you thirty seconds. Insufferable."
Together they began to undo the buttons she had just finished. He was all lips and teeth and tongue everywhere on her. Hermione's mind went blank in the way only Draco could cause.
Wednesday, September 18, 1996
Hermione was torn. Porridge or corn flakes? She had been trying to make a decision for a minute or so, and was staring at them both in thought when Ron arrived at the breakfast table.
"Asleep already?" Ron's voice shook Hermione from the daze, and she shook her head as she reached to make a bowl of corn flakes.
"Lost in thought, I guess."
Ron nodded in understanding while heaping a large pile of eggs in front of him. "Aren't planning to take a break to celebrate your birthday, are you?" He looked to Hermione then, giving a small humorous grin.
"I can't say I currently have plans to stop thinking tomorrow, no." Hermione had given little thought to her birthday, and was honestly surprised that Ron had brought it up at all. "I guess I might take a trip to Hogsm-"
"Morning," came Dean's voice as her arrived, moving to sit next to Hermione.
Hermione simply nodded in response, still not fully awoken for the morning.
"See Harry this morning?" Ron asked Dean, scanning the Hall's entrance for his friend.
"Didn't see him before I left." Dean shrugged, not looking up from his toast.
Hermione sighed, filling a mug of coffee. "I hope all's okay." She clenched her fingers around the mug and scanned the room herself. In time, Hermione had simply grown accustomed to feeling nervous about Harry. It seemed to come with the territory.
"Probably sleeping through breakfast." Ron supplied halfway through a bite of bacon. "Hey!" He perked, taking a moment to swallow what food was left in his mouth.
Awoken by the sudden excitement, Hermione looked to Ron, alert.
"They might cover your birthday in the Hogwarts Free Press!"
Dean chuckled, "I heard they covered Parkinson's last week. Bloody ridiculous. Thing said she had three different parties since term started."
"Hogwarts Free Press?" Hermione quirked a brow.
Dean looked to her in jest, a wide grin splitting his lips. "Haven't you heard?"
"A few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs started their own Hogwarts newspaper, out every Friday. Things a right laugh!" Ron chuckled.
Hermione scoffed at the idea, "Perfect, a hard copy of the day before's gossip." She took a sip of her coffee, still considering the idea. "Parkinson's parties almost seem above what I would expect from them. I'm sure it was front page news." She quipped dryly.
"First edition came at the start of term, just bloody rubbish." Ron laughed wholeheartedly at the thought, looking at Dean's smiling face.
"The next night's party rolls by as a who's who of Hogwarts upperclassmen," Ron heightens his voice.
"Draco Malfoy arrives fashionably late to the festivities held in his on-again off-again girlfriend's honor." Hermione bristles at Dean's humorous imitation.
Hearing Draco's name was a piercing reminder for Hermione, as she was still shocked by herself every time she thought of what they'd done. Multiple times! To imagine if her name had been splashed across the trashy new paper alongside his! Just the thought of that happening gave Hermione a new fear to worry over. If her friends ever found out- she just didn't want to think of it.
"Still taking the piss out of that Hufflepuff paper?" Harry joined the table, smiling at the thought as he looked from Dean to Ron.
"As long as they keep printing it!" Dean joked, still amused by his own antics.
The group continued ragging on the paper for a few minutes until Seamus came to pull Dean away, likely telling of the previous night's rendezvous.
"Sleep late?" Hermione asked, looking at Harry over her half empty mug.
"Opposite, up early to meet with Dumbledore." Harry responded morosely, seemingly unhappy with the tradeoff.
Ron looked to the students around them, searching for eavesdroppers in the Great Hall's morning rush. "Again?" He paused, glancing over to Hermione. "Is everything alright?"
Hermione's shoulders tensed, waiting for Harry's response. The question was reasonable, as frequent visits to Dumbledore rarely spelled anything but trouble in her best friend's life. Everyone with two eyes had realized the wizarding world was on the verge of war, and their group knew that they had somehow become the ones walking closest to the cliff.
"Only once," Harry huffed. "Ended up not being able to see him the other night. It was weird." Harry took his own glance around the table, scanning for suspicious movement.
Over the pause, Hermione could clearly hear Seamus' tale a few seats over. Circle thing with her hips – bloody brilliant.
"I was almost to his office when I saw two Aurors walking inside." Harry continued. The group exchanged glances, all wondering what could have been discussed. "I didn't have to wait long until Snape showed up as well."
Hermione immediately began trying to analyze the situation. "Had- did Dumbledore know you were coming to meet?"
"He wanted to discuss me working on Occluemency again."
"Not a bad idea," Ron muttered.
Hermione nodded, "It likely wouldn't be a bad idea for us all to learn." She paused, "We've become targets as well. Anyone could see into our mind and learn about the Order or where Harry is."
"It's a horrible thing," Harry responded immediately. "It's bloody torture to learn."
Hermione gripped her nearly empty mug with both hands. She could only imagine what had been discussed in Dumbledore's office, and for all she knew the truth was even worse.
Ron made a face as though he had just swallowed a bug. "'Mione's probably right, though."
"Dumbledore wants me to ask Slughorn to teach me." Harry made a face, scrunching his nose at the concept.
Hermione shook her head lightly, "Wait. Did Dumbledore want you to see them walking in?" She asked Harry.
Harry gave a shrug of exasperation, looking noncommittal. "It's possible. When I asked him about it this morning he wouldn't give anything away."
"What'd he end up actually saying?" Ron looked between Harry and Hermione's pensive faces.
"I asked what the meeting about, why Snape was there, if he knew they were coming. Nothing, he just kept talking about Occlumency."
Blinking, Hermione thought on his answer. "He must be trying to say something, you know Dumbledore." Hermione paused, still trying to bridge the gap in logic. "Were the Aurors here about Slughorn, are you supposed to learn something else in the lessons?"
Harry shook his head, "Why would Snape be there then? If Dumbledore was going to tell him about the situation with Slughorn, why not wait until after the meeting?"
"Maybe he was just blowing you off, Harry." Ron added, speaking over a mouthful of eggs. "Slughorn might be a different thing."
The group thought on this for a moment before Hermione piped up again. "Okay, whether he wanted you to see the meeting or not, what was it about?"
"Snape, Aurors, Dumbledore?" Ron put a hand up, assuming the answer obvious. "Voldemort or Malfoy."
Hearing his name so casually be thrown in with such evil made Hermione's stomach churn. Even worse, the association was likely accurate, as his track record was less than stellar.
"If Aurors were here for Malfoy, he wouldn't be sitting at the Slytherin table right now." Hermione pointed across the hall where he sat.
Draco must have sensed the three pairs of eyes on him, as he quickly looked up to meet Hermione's gaze with his own. Hermione felt herself flush, irrationally afraid that Malfoy had just given away their sordid affair with a single look.
He gave an arrogant sneer before looking back to Nott beside him. It was nothing, she tells herself, nothing.
"So we agree on that, something's developed with Voldemort." Ron adds, rolling his eyes as he looks away from Malfoy.
Harry gave his eggs a soulful stab, "Why won't Dumbledore just tell me then?"
Wednesday, September 18, 1996
"If you lot are so interested in watching me eat, I'll start really making a show of it." Draco snaps.
Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco hadn't been able to clear the room this time, and hadn't exactly shared that until they met outside the Slytherin common room. Disillusioned and biting back the urge to tap her foot, Hermione had waited until Draco had arrived, following him as quietly she could up to his dorm.
The whole sleuth thing had gotten a bit harder when she realized there were two other guys already there, something she had yet to deal with. Dealing with Draco was tough enough, and Hermione couldn't image sparring with Nott and whoever else was in the bloody room. She followed Draco onto his bed and waited for him to close his curtains and soundproof the tiny space, hoping she had successfully avoided detection.
"We weren't watching you eat, you insufferable prat."
Draco had neglected to silence the sounds coming from outside the emerald curtains of his bed, and Hermione could hear the turn of the page not far away.
"Your eyes all collectively glazed over while glancing at me, then?" Draco began removing his shoes where he sat across from Hermione, dropping them one at a time outside the curtain.
Hermione began removing her shoes as well, setting them beside her. She spent a moment debating whether to tell the truth, that they had been discussing the likelihood of his nefarious activities. "Ron thought you had food or something on your nose, none of us wanted to miss it." Hermione stuck her own nose up into the air only slightly, partly because if she lifted it too high she wouldn't be able to see the buttons on her skirt.
"All that Gryffindor courage should give you the spine to at least speak the truth."
"What could we possibly gain from watching you eat, Malfoy?"
"I cannot be clear enough in how little I want to know about what gets Potty and the Weasel hard."
"I wish you would just call them by their names in my presence." Hermione tugged a bit harder at the last skirt button than she really needed to. "You can rest easy in knowing that we were not watching you eat, much less getting off to it."
Draco's crisp white shirt was fully unbuttoned, hanging on by his shoulders. He heard a page turn from the direction of Theo's bed, and instinctually hesitated before speaking again. "Well I wish they didn't get in my field of vision daily, but it seems we can't all get what we want."
"Give it a couple years, I doubt they'll join you in sitting alone at Malfoy Manor for the rest of their lives." Hermione's patience was running thin, and at this point she was ready to just stop talking and get to the sex already.
Malfoy gave a rather unappealing snort, "Is that what you imagine me doing after graduation? Sitting in silence at Malfoy Manor?"
"I'd prefer to not image you at all, honestly."
Draco shook his head in frustration, being careful to drop his shirt where it wouldn't fall beneath the curtain but still close enough that it billowed at the contact. "My potential is larger than whatever that is you've pictured, I'll have you know. Have I not proved myself formidable as an enemy? Have I not shown myself as a Slytherin, cunning and ambitious?"
"If you think I've given you enough thought to rank you as an enemy in my life, you'd be sorely mistaken, prat." Hermione's voice was clipped, her eyes warming with anger. Looking at Draco though, she had to bite her lip at the view of a fading bite mark on his shoulder.
Draco followed her line of sight, and couldn't help himself from looking at his own bitemark on her creamy thigh. Not far away were still visible fingerprint bruises, perfectly slotted for his own hands.
"Prat?" Draco smirked arrogantly, leaning back in the bed. "Come get on my lap and say that again, sweetheart." He pouted his lips at Hermione, patronizingly shaking his head at her.
Looking at his arrogant face both made her want to slap him and shove her mouth over his. She was still trying to work out which she liked more.
Hermione nearly ripped her bra off in anger, whipping it behind her where it slapped against the curtain. "Such a sodding wanker," she kneed over the velvety sheets to his lap nonetheless, planting her arse flat on his hips.
"Why do you swear only in my presence, Granger?" Draco sat both of his hands flat on her behind, smoothing his fingers over the soft skin. "Just can't stand how irresistible I am?" He made his voice raw now, dripping with honey. With them both nearly naked, he had to shift Hermione's anger in a more manageable direction.
The heat of ire was rolling off in waves, warming her skin where it laid heavy against the bane of her existence. She knot her hands where they sat on his strong shoulders, kneading into him. The usually comforting gesture angered Draco as it neared the point of pain, and in response he splayed his fingers over the fading bruises on her thighs.
The burning of his fingers digging into her legs made Hermione lift her hips, rubbing herself against him. "I can't believe I'm doing this again." She closed her eyes, shaking her head at the ceiling as she berated herself.
"I can," Draco whispered hot into her neck, ghosting with lips and teeth. "We both know I'm the only one who'll fuck you like this." Blunt teeth bit down onto her neck, drawing blood beneath her skin.
"I hate you," she whispered. The heat of his mouth and hands and hips on her was just, fantastic, sending lightning all over her body. Hermione was just coherent enough to decide that of all uses of Malfoy's mouth, using it on her body was just her absolute favorite.
Draco was still thinking of something to say when the dorm room door began to slowly creak open. They both ignored the sound at first, but had to stop after a few seconds of the creak continuing. The amount of time was unnecessary for the simple opening of a door.
The heat of their moment was slightly fizzled, and they both pulled back slightly to examine the situation. Draco's was shirtless, his unzipped slacks loose at his hips. Hermione was straddled atop him, stripped down to her bra and knickers.
"Blaise?" Theo's voice hung in the room, uncertain.
Hermione and Draco were frozen in silence, both interested in what Blaise was doing. They both stared off into the dim space between Draco's curtains, Hermione at his bedspread and Draco at her breasts.
The creaking stopped, and Theo spoke again. "Blaise?"
Blaise closed the door rather than responding. Hermione heard shuffling from the same direction that earlier a page had turned, but making out actual actions was difficult. She could only assume that Blaise's entry was unusual, though she had little experience with however he normally acted.
After a moment Blaise's footsteps began walking further into the room.
Underneath her, Draco pushed himself up using his arms. His shifting moved his back to lean against the bed's headboard and Hermione's arse to slide a few inches down his thighs. Their torsos were more even now, no longer were Hermione's breasts at his eye level.
"What's going on?" Theo asked. She could hear his feet hitting the floor not far away where he must have come off his bed.
Still somewhat intertwined, the two listened to the scene unfold around them. Blaise sounded entirely detached from his surroundings, lost somewhere in his own head. He took small steps around the room, rummaging through parchment and other things Hermione couldn't identify.
Hermione could however hear make out Theo's words as he tried to interpret his friend. Theo struggled to deal with this situation, seemingly uncomfortable with handling the emotions of others. In imagining the interactions of Slytherins, Hermione just couldn't picture them ever maintaining meaningful emotional interaction. Showing weakness or emotion was almost the antithesis of being a Slytherin, as far as Hermione knew.
She also noticed Draco's eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he tried to interpret the situation himself. Had something happened? It was nearly the middle of the night, and it was certainly possible something had happened in the castle. Somehow Hermione had thought that she would just know if something was wrong, but that wasn't foolproof. Perhaps Blaise had seen Voldemort? Had someone died in the castle?
Were the Aurors visiting to warn of an attack on the castle?
Hermione shook her head, disturbed at the mere thought. Although Harry and Ron had no idea where she was, she knew they would find her somehow if they needed to.
Watching Draco's reactions, Hermione could only assume that he was running the same internal dialogue. It wasn't long before he closed his eyes, visibly steeling himself.
"Stay here." His hands came to her hips, roughly sliding her back toward the bed's foot and off his legs. "Don't even think of getting involved, much less getting seen." Draco zipped his slacks, not bothering to cover his chest.
Distanced from him, Hermione was now forced to see his Mark. Up until now she had been able to ignore even the thought of its presence, though Draco had put no effort into covering it up. But now, there it was in front of her. She couldn't help but think that for such a horrible symbol, it actually looked small on his arm.
Hermione almost didn't realize the other boys would be able to see it as well. They must already know he had taken the Mark, then. Had they taken it as well? Was Voldemort's reach longer than she had anticipated? The reminder at seeing Draco's mark was painful enough, and thinking of how many others might be walking Hogwarts's halls with it was terrifying.
"Yes, because I'm dying to be caught in your bed in my knickers." Hermione threw a sarcastic hand in the air, scrunching her nose at the absolute prat that sat across from her. As Draco reached to open the curtain, he shot Hermione one last rueful look to check that she was hidden enough for the moment. Heeding his warning, as she also had no interest in being found, Hermione had balled herself up in the corner, knees to her chest and wand in hand.
Once Draco had stepped out, he closed the curtain again, not allowing Hermione to follow or watch the interaction. Cold, and still slightly anxious of being found, Hermione crawled over to settle herself under the sheets. If anything else, when she was caught at least they wouldn't see her breasts.
"Theo, Blaise." Draco said, stepping closer to where they stood. Hermione could still hear Blaise's persistent rummaging, not having stopped at Draco's presence.
"Draco. Blaise is," Theo started, though he couldn't seem to find a fitting end to the thought either. Hermione shook her head, what the hell were these boys doing? Hermione had little experience with any Slytherin besides Draco, and even that was very limited in itself. She had no idea whether this was normal behavior for Blaise, to silently bang around his shared dorm room and ignore his friends.
Draco's confusion made the situation seem abnormal, but were they even friends? Hermione had gotten the impression that they were pretty close, but it's possible they only ever spoke to each other when it was absolutely required of them, and she had just happened to see them in those moments.
The sounds of rummaging continued to echo, and Hermione could barely make out sparse words whispered between Theo and Draco. Only after a few more moments did the rummaging stop and Hermione jumped at the sound of a trunk slamming shut.
"Hot date?" Draco's voice was the only sound in the room above the creak of footsteps toward the door, and they paused for just a moment when he spoke.
There was a scoff, and Hermione didn't like that she could tell it wasn't Draco's. "Yeah, with an ancient runes book."
Hermione shook her head against the pillow she was laid against, was there ancient runes work to be done she had forgotten? Bullocks, and she was wasting time laying half naked in the Slytherin dorms waiting for a horrible wizard to come back to bed and slam her senseless. What was the point of a devious rendezvous when there was work to be done?
Hermione tried to figure out what Runes work she could be forgetting while she laid there. She could have sworn that there was only revision to be done for the last few classes, and she couldn't imagine Zabini would actually do that.
There was another scoff, and it might or might not have been Draco's. "That's dragon dung. What's got your wand in a knot?" The dorm door opened, and Hermione could hear it shut forcefully only a few seconds later. From the continued low whispers that began again, she figured that Blaise had finally left the room.
Hair splayed around her head, Hermione was trying to decide whether these sheets actually were nicer than the Gryffindors', they were and they shouldn't be, but they so were, when the onyx curtain opened again. Draco was returning, but she could see his mind was still walking from the Slytherin dungeons with his classmate.
He opened the curtain only what was necessary for him to come inside, slowly coming to sit in front of Hermione with his legs over hers. He didn't look at her for a moment, his face a stone mask. Hermione knew he must be trying to figure out what happened with Blaise, as she was doing the same.
"What was he looking for?" She asked, even though she didn't anticipate any real reply.
"He left with a pouch and some parchment." Draco's eyes were fixed somewhere on the curtains, and Hermione guessed he had forgotten who he was speaking to for a moment.
"A pouch of what?" Hermione watched his face as it crinkled, coming to look at her.
"Sadly, the bag was not invisible." Draco's mouth made a small snarky smile, obviously annoyed by her questioning. Hermione was unfazed, she hadn't expected as much information as she'd gotten.
So, what was in the pouch? Parchment was too wide a net, as it's uses weren't quite singular. The pouch though could be anything from chocolate frogs to pink lipsticks for all she knew.
"Is he usually like that?"
"Do you think me and Theo would have gone to speak with him if he was?" Draco snapped.
Hermione had a pit in her stomach over what she'd heard. From Draco's response, this was obviously out of character for Blaise. Is he doing something for Voldemort? Since he didn't seem to react to Draco's mark, he must be on their side.
An idea struck Hermione, and she looked to Draco's forearm, looking for some subtle change or movement. Was Voldemort summoning them, and Blaise was just answering his master's call? From her limited experience with the dark mark, Hermione couldn't tell any meaningful difference. Hermione had been under the assumption that he couldn't single out one person to call on, and Draco wasn't running out the door after him.
Draco craned his neck in every direction, stretching after staring into the curtain for so long. Hermione watched him, her mind still somewhat on Blaise and Voldemort, as Draco began to crawl over her. Pulling down the sheets from where they covered Hermione's breasts, Draco kissed her.
It was slow for only fleeting instant, until they both put their thoughts away. Hermione grasped the hair above his neck, pulling his face to hers. The pressure and heat of his chest on hers was something beyond explanation, she thought.