Passion, Freedom, Power & Pleasure
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Just a One Shot
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
A/N: T for Sexual references, and mature language but probably nothing you haven't heard before. 13+ recommended.
Summary: Hermione is gutted when she sees Ron with Lavender for the first time, driven by her determination to forget Ron she seeks out a certain Slytherin…
There were a few seconds delay as the scene before her registered, a few seconds of confusion and shock. They were blissful. When her eyes did register what was going on the pain was sudden, it felt as though she'd taken a lance to the chest, it was almost crippling. However, she remained composed, as always, for she didn't know how to do anything but.
First she denied it, it couldn't be true, this had to be some insane dream, after all- when on earth could this have started, and obviously how on earth, he wasn't exactly the most charming Gryffindor in the tower. But however many time she reassessed the scene, nothing seemed to change. Ron and Lavender were still tangled in an armchair made for one, their hands roaming in forbidden places on one another and their lips mashing together. To be quite honest she thought they looked like they were attempting to eat other, it was revolting. After she'd admitted to herself that it was in fact real, she'd looked away, but still they were all she could see.
Hermione stood awkwardly at the entrance; no one had acknowledged her yet. She hoped no one had seen her come in either, because she quickly turned around and fled the way she'd come. She couldn't face it, or them, or him.
So she ran away, in the most un-Gryffindor way possible.
Once she was out in the hallways, she took a breath and her head cleared, she began to walk, without knowing where she was going.
The pain had subsided, it had been replaced by an equally, or possibly more, unbearable feeling. Numbness.
She didn't know how long she'd been running, and she'd barely been paying attention to where her feet were carrying her. It was after sometime that Hermione realized she was heading downwards; the hallways she ran down were sloped softly. She knew where she was; she'd often patrolled this area as a prefect.
The rate her feet hit the floor decreased, knowing now where, or to whom her subconscious had been taking her. An idea formed in her mind, it was incredibly against all her morals, but given the circumstances, she thought she could forgive herself one day. So she continued down the dimly green-lit hallways, seeking out Draco Malfoy.
Once they'd acknowledged their mutual attraction, they'd crossed paths rather awkwardly in the prefect's bathroom, when Hermione had forgotten to whisper the words that would lock the door from the inside. She'd been just sliding into the bath when Malfoy had come in…
Hermione flushed hotly at the memory.
Perhaps she would find him; he often roamed the hallways at night. Or at least that's what Harry said, and Harry ought to know, as he'd been tailing him all year.
Hermione's skin tingled at the thought, a night with Malfoy, surely that would rid her of the gross image that was still imprinted on the underside of her eyelids.
She ignored the fact that her conscience was severely at stake of being corrupted. And turned to other matters, a night with Malfoy would have to have consent on both sides. Or… at least his.
And although a 16-year-old boy would normally be willing to take advantage of Hermione, she remembered how she'd left Malfoy last time, hot and bothered with no one to shag, she didn't think she could count on his cooperation. Biting her lip and looking down at the stone floor as she walked, she didn't notice she'd walked right past a tall figure, smoking in an alcove.
"What are you doing here Granger." Hermione turned slowly to face the very person she'd been looking for, trying not to look to relieved, or panicked to see him. Although he had phrased the words like a question, the ice-cold tone it was spoken in did not lift and the end as questions do. However, neither was it a statement, he was demanding an answer after all.
"I could ask you the same question." Was her immediate response, it was weak, she knew, she'd never been apt at comebacks. He didn't rush to respond, he just observed her whilst taking a drag, and for a second Hermione felt he might pull out a note pad and begin taking notes. He was leaning against the alcove corner, a cigar – in typical Malfoy fashion - rather than your normal cigarette, in his left hand. His hair was messy, it fell artistically in front of his grey eyes. He wasn't wearing the school robes but rather a silver silk dressing gown, and long dark pants, no sure beneath it seemed, as the dressing gown hung open at the front revealing his sculpted pale chest. He was also bare foot. He looked as he always did, beautiful and sexy.
He withdrew the cigar from his mouth and blew smoke up into the air, "Are you here to tell me off for smoking, or being out after hours, or both?"
The strong scent of cloves hit her as the smoke drifted away, and Hermione didn't respond, it wasn't an unpleasant scent, in fact Hermione rather liked it, but just for the sake of it, she made a show of coughing.
"I could handle a spanking actually…" Malfoy continued.
Hermione blushed, but otherwise ignored the comment, "Why do you think I'm here for you at all?"
Malfoy just shrugged and smirked.
Already, Hermione was getting annoyed, she remembered the reason she had come – Lavender and Ron flashing in her mind and took a deep breath. Thinking of something she could say that might start a conversation. But Malfoy bet her to it.
"I've been waiting here for you to come and finish what you started." He drawled, putting out his cigar on the wall and flicking it away.
Hermione's heart raced, "Oh."
"Isn't that why you're here?"
Hermione didn't say anything, and a long time passed, Malfoy looked at ease, his eyes on Hermione and his hands in his pockets. Hermione who was awkward at the best of times had trouble looking composed in the silence.
"That's a bad habit, you know." She said – just to have something, gesturing towards his cigar and moving closer to him as subtly as she could manage.
He looked down at her, his amusement obvious in his sparkling grey eyes, "So I've heard."
Hermione frowned, "Then why do you do it? You're young, you could quit easily."
Draco's smirk was quickly replaced by a grin, "It looks cool."
Hermione stared at him, she'd never seen so much as a smile on the Slytherin's face, but this was really something, his whole face was alit with humour, his eyes crinkled in the corners and she'd been moving closer all the while and finally she was directly in front of him, him with his back against the wall.
"Are you okay Draco? You're not acting normal." She couldn't help herself; she wanted an explanation for his peculiar behavior. Normally he'd have insulted her or told her to piss off by now.
"I think I have a fever actually, you'll have to play nurse." The grin had diminished slightly, replaced with a crooked smile. He waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
Hermione looked taken aback, "You're shameless."
"That I am." Draco said plainly. He reached out and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, bring his hand back and trailing in down her cheek. His hands were very hot, Hermione noticed, they left a trail of fire on her skin. Perhaps he did have a fever.
He wasn't leaning anymore; he was standing straight up, looking down at her without a smile now but a frown, "You're not as unappealing as I'd have you believe, you know."
Hermione blushed, how flippant he was being. "Aren't I?"
Draco just shook his head; he was still touching her, his hand now on her neck where her pulse should be. Hermione attempted to calm her self down, but new her heart would betray her, it was racing.
"You shouldn't hide yourself away so much Granger." His hand was sliding down her arm now, goosebumps formed on Hermione's skin.
Is this really Draco Malfoy, she wondered, for surely the boy who'd called her a mudblood would never talk to her this way or touch her so gently. His fingers were on her wrist and palm, and she tried to ignore the way it tickled, "What do you mean?"
Suddenly Draco yanked on her hand and pulled her towards him, before he grabbed her shoulder with his other hand and then rolled them both around so it was Hermione with her back to the wall. Hermione made an "unf" noise.
"You don't let people see you. You're in the library all day, and you wear the most unflattering clothes, your robes are probably two sizes too large. It'd be impossible to tell that beneath them you have an amazing arse and sexy legs, unless you've seen them yourself. You've probably got the best tits in the school but no one would even know, not even Potter or Weasly."
Hermione's chest had become tight; she was blushing fiercely and was grateful for the darkness. Draco who had moments before been a foot away was now just inches. Hermione had always been tall, but Draco was taller- not too tall, his nose was level with her forehead when both were at their full height. But now he was leaning over her, and she was angling her face upwards. One of Draco's hands was underneath her robes, and the muggle shirt she'd had on underneath, his callused thumb stroking her hipbone.
She looked him in the eyes, "Those things aren't important. An education, qualifications, a future, that's important."
Draco analyzed her face for any sign that she was joking, when he realized that indeed she wasn't he told her quite seriously, "There is more to life than school and books, Granger."
Hermione shivered, his hand was rising under her shirt, "Like what?"
Draco took his time, "Like passion," just his tone of voice nearly caused Hermione to whimper, "freedom," his hand slid underneath her bra, "power," he kneaded her breast, "pleasure."
Her eyes were wide and her heart thudded wildly. She had to keep reminding herself that she wanted this. Her arms, which had until them been hanging by her sides rose and she grasped his shoulders, before using her grip to pull him closer.
Their bodies were crushed together. "You ought to repel me." Draco hissed into her ear.
Hermione whispered back into his ear, "And don't I?"
"Not in the slightest."
Maybe she could imagine he was Ron.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his hand was under her thigh, pulling it up and positioning it against his waist. Their foreheads were pressed together, and their lips barely a breath apart. Hermione's lips was part slightly, her heart beating erratically, eyes closed in anticipation. And when he uttered the words bitterly, she barely caught them, "This isn't fair."
He didn't pull away, but Hermione sensed something had changed. Unwillingly, she allowed her eyes to flutter open and nearly lost her resolve when the gentle brown eyes of a certain Weasley were lost from her imagination, and replaced by the set of cold, analyzing grey orbs, that bore into her now.
Hermione bit her lip, because Draco's eyes almost appealed to her as much as Ron's. Yet they had a dark undercurrent, they were hypnotizing and manipulative. He had only to batter an eyelid and any woman –not to mention some men- would do whatever his bidding.
And it was as if he had willed her to, that she asked, "What isn't fair?"
He didn't answer for a while, and when he did he was vague and cryptic, "There a lot of things that aren't fair, unrequited love being on top of the list." Hermione was still caught in the overpowering sensation that was their bodies pressed together, and wasn't able to process his first statement before his second came, "I know you don't really want this, Granger."
Hermione frowned, and knotted her hands in his hair, "Yes, I do." She said as firmly and as she could, not only for his benefit either.
Draco tutted, his tone ever patronizing, "You'll be sickened with yourself later if anything happens."
Hermione sighed, sooner rather than later, she thought. She summoned all the resolve she had left and looked him squarely in the eye, "I know. But at this second, I could not care less." And it wasn't a lie, because she was still caught up in him, she longed to feel his lips on hers, she longed to forget about Ron, just for a night.
To Hermione's disbelief, Draco withdrew from her and took a step back, so that they were at a respectable distance, "But I do, Granger. I want you to want this."
When they lost proximity is was like a breath of fresh air for Hermione. Her head cleared, she briefly went over what they'd been talking about and was able to recognize the tone of, -concern, bitterness, irony, self-pity?- surely it was mockery in Draco's voice. Hermione flushed scarlet. "What- don't play games."
Draco leaned into her again, putting his hands on the wall behind her and whispering into her ear, his voice low but full of vehemence, "I want you Granger."
Hermione took a ragged breath, and turned her head from him, only succeeding to expose her neck to Draco, "I don't believe you."
His lips were so close to the skin on her neck she could feel their heat, and when her spoke they lightly tickled her, "Hermione, I want you so fucking bad it hurts." And she didn't miss that he'd used her first name, it sounded so nice coming from his lips, it was sexy and exotic in a way she'd never imagined her name could be. Draco continued, his voice becoming resentful and flat, "But you don't fancy me, you have a thing for Weasley."
Hermione's expression of pure rapture fell a hundred stories, he knew. Was it so obvious that even he could see?
"And I know you're only here because he's hooking up with that idiotic Brown girl, and you have no one." Putting quickly aside the satisfaction she got when Malfoy called Lavender stupid, and her surprise that he'd found out before her, Hermione's temper flared; because he was right; because she was jealous and lonely; because he'd reminded her of Ron and Lavender; because this hadn't turned out as easy as she'd hoped; because she'd made such a fool of herself; and because she'd allowed him to get the better of her.
"Shut up Malfoy." Hermione's voice took a dangerous turn, and she thought she saw Draco's eyes widen slightly. Perhaps she'd just imagined it, because just a millisecond later it was definitely amusement that adorned his features. His lip pursed and pulling up in one corner. She liked the idea though, that he'd been scared of her.
"Maybe that is why I'm here, but what does it matter?" Hermione was not giving up so easily; she raised herself to her full height, still a few inches shorter than him, pushed out her breast and trailed a finger down Draco's abdomen. Her tone turned silky and seductive, "If you want me," she purred, "then why won't you have me?"
Draco noticed the changes, and raised his eyebrows. Because I don't want you to think we're a mistake, because I want it too mean as much to you as it does to me, he thought, but he said in his most patronizing tone, "Because I don't want you to do something you'll regret, Granger."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Oh, how very noble of you."
"You don't believe me?" He asked. He was ridiculously beautiful and for a moment Hermione admired his handsome features; his graceful cheekbones and mesmerizing grey eyes. His hair was glossy and thick, his skin unblemished. Hermione felt a twinge of jealousy, thinking of her own ill-favored features. She hated how he could make her feel so unsure of herself and inadequate. She forced herself to remember how egotistic and malevolent he was.
Raising her eyebrows, as if to question the logic in his question, she replied flatly, "Not a bit."
Draco smirked, and rubbed his chin. Hermione felt incredibly self-conscious, as he lazily looked her up and down.
"Suit yourself." He shrugged and waved a vague hand at her, looking down at her expectantly. Hermione's mouth fell open, before quickly snapping shut. How could he act as though he hadn't just said those things? How could he still be so condescending as if after his 'confession' he still had the upper hand?
"Are you dismissing me?"
Draco just chuckled at her, and Hermione didn't know how to respond. She could refuse to be dismissed, but then what would she do? She'd have to stay with him longer and she had no desire to do so anymore, seeing as it was obvious she wouldn't now be able to surrender her senses to a night with Malfoy.
So she tossed her hair, turned on her heel, chin high in the air and attempted to walk away with all the dignity she had left.
"See-you Granger!" Draco called out from behind her, an unsubtle hint of laughter in his tone. Hermione had an insane urge to turn around and poke her tongue out of him, but knowing such an immature action would only cost her the loss of whatever respect Draco still had for her, she resisted the urge.
So now what? She asked her self as she rounded a corner and her skin stopped prickling as it did when Draco's gaze was on her. She wouldn't go back to the common room, not when Ron was sure to be there, and no doubt with his new girlfriend.
She pondered for a second whether Draco had been telling the truth, and smiled at the thought. Not that Hermione fancied him, she was certain of her feelings for Ron, and found no joy thinking they might be easily shed. Still, the idea of having won the attention of Draco Malfoy…
She loved it.
A/N: My first fanfic! Please leave a review! I'd greatly appreciate it.
I would had used references to the war more but I thought I'd rather it to be just about their relationship, so the only thing I mentioned about Draco becoming a Death Eater {or just that he was under suspicion} was that Harry had been tailing him, for all intents and purposes, you may decided whether you would like Draco to have been a Death Eater or not in this.
Also Draco was originally meant to be slightly drunk in this so that is the explanation for his rather odd behavior. I will not apologize for Draco smoking.
My apologies for any bad grammar, this was written over a period of time piece by piece and I'm not sure if it all fits together that well. This whole story is a bit of a mess.
Thanks for reading anyway!