A/N: Happiest of birthdays to my sweet friend, InDreams. You make the fandom a brighter place and I aspire to be half the writer you are someday. Hope these meager little words brighten your day, if only slightly.
"It's not fucking happening, Granger," Draco warned in a hushed voice, his piss poor attempt at a whisper.
Hermione scoffed despite the thudding of her heart, a lone curl flying away from her face from the exertion of her breath. Just where, exactly, did he get off trying to tell her anything of the sort/ "Draco Malfoy, please do not presume to tell me what I can and can not do."
Her shoes clapped down the hallway with each angry step as Draco stormed after her, his cheeks flushed with fresh rage.
"I had no good reason to say no." Hermione shrugged. "I don't exactly feel like going to Slughorn's party stag, and I had no other reasonable offers. What would you have me do?"
When Michael Corner suggested that he accompany her to the party, she'd accepted with a bright, albeit forced, smile pulling on her lips. The fact that Draco had been seated directly behind her in class when Michael asked? Well… surely, that had no bearing on her decision whatsoever.
Most everyone knew at this point that Michael Corner was not interested in the romantic company of witches, but Draco was a bit of a self-involved wizard, wasn't he? He didn't tend to be overly interested in gossip that didn't pertain to himself or, ironically enough, her.
Hermione had decided she wasn't going to be the one to fill him in on the situation. The temperamental blond could stew in his jealousy for days, for all she cared. If he wanted to avoid the situation altogether, he should have just plucked up the gall to ask her. What was with it wizards in this school waiting for the last minute and then having themselves a pity party?
Eighth year and brought an entirely new world for Hermione, the most surprising of which was her very much on, and very much secret, relationship with Draco Malfoy. Looking back on those first few weeks at Hogwarts, she barely recognised the school she'd come to call home. Everyone was stepping on eggshells, nervous that a single word would trigger a widespread panic or duel in the halls.
But somehow, through one Potions project that spanned the length of a month and many late nights in the library, they'd found some form of comfort in each other. At first, it was all the fun of hushed whispers in quiet corridors and stolen kisses in broom closets. But as things escalated between them, she couldn't figure out why they hadn't told anyone. There had been once, right after their first kiss, that Draco had hushed her and whispered in her ear that, "no one needed to know." She supposed it made sense enough, there was still so much tension between the student body and adding this new and alarming development would unsettle the precarious balance they'd found.
But now it was nearly June and Hermione found herself getting increasingly frustrated with the game they were playing. The idea of ending whatever it is they were gutted her. However, if Draco Malfoy thought for one moment that she would be the one to broach the subject… well, he just didn't know her at all. She could certainly be as obstinate and bull-headed as any Slytherin in her path, and she had no issue in proving it.
Slughorn's end of year party was coming up this weekend and Hermione had resigned herself to attend alone, as was Malfoy's plan. But then Michael Corner had asked her and she'd agreed for purely innocent reasons… well, mostly innocent. If Draco had a touch of jealousy and decided to declare his feelings? Hermione wouldn't oppose that for a moment.
"Corner's a fucking wanker, Granger. You can't be serious about him." Draco rolled his eyes, unable to believe that she would be interested in spending an evening with a well-read, handsome young wizard other than himself.
Hermione stopped mid-step, turning on her heel so that Draco nearly ran into her. "Are you saying you have a problem with me going out with someone else?" Her brows rose high on her forehead while she watched turmoil distort his handsome features.
"It's not that, Granger," he snapped. "It's Corner. He's a prick—" Malfoy's shoulders fell, his hands gesticulating wildly.
Hermione's head fell back, exposing the long lines of her throat as she half laughed, half groaned at the audacity of her… well, of Draco. "He's lovely and you're being prat."
Turning on the ball of her foot, Hermione continued her stomping, side stepping through the throngs of people. "Stop pretending like you care about it being Michael, Malfoy."
"Oh, it's Michael is it," Malfoy pouted, pulling a disgusted face as he said his name. Draco's hand shot out, snatching her by the crook of the elbow and tugging her into an empty classroom and snapping the door shut. "Stop brushing this off. Why are you trying to pretend like this isn't weird? You're just gonna go on a date with Corner, like we're nothing?"
"Stop making this about us." A hot blush crept up her neck, staining her cheeks as her lips pursed. Of course this was about them. "It's one night."
"No, you stop making it about anything but us. What? Are you punishing me? Is that it?" Draco took a dangerous step towards her and the lion in her quivered, taking a step back until she was pressed against the thick wooden door. "If you wanted me to ask you to Sluggy's party, you just had to ask."
Hermione snorted, tilting her chin up and arching her brow in an attempt to make up the size difference between them. It was horribly difficult to gain the upper hand when the other person naturally had to look down on you.
"I don't ask anyone to ask me out, Malfoy. If there was something you wanted—" Her words were cut off as his hands fell to rest on the door at her back and his face dipped down to hover just inches away from her. His dark eyes studied the delicate bow of her lip and her breath caught in her throat.
"What I want?" His gaze darkened and she felt his knee slide between hers, his thigh pressing firmly on her sex. "What I want is to rip the clothes from your body and kiss every square inch of your body. I want to make you scream in this classroom so that every person passing by hears you screaming my name. I want them imagining the way you look when you fall apart and more than that, I want them wishing, more than anything, they were us."
Hermione's eyes fluttered as her back arched into him, getting lost in his filthy words and wanting very much to make that a reality.
His tongue darted out to wet his lip as his mouth dropped closer to hers. "Probably a bad idea though, right?"
Hermione blinked, trying to bring herself to that same conclusion but when he was pressing into her like this, nothing else really seemed to make sense.
"Yeah…" she agreed in a breathy voice. "Ba-bad idea."
"So bad." The hand resting near her cheek, moved suddenly to her waist, curling his fingers into her soft flesh and pulling her harder against him.
Hermione let out a humiliating whimper as she chased his lips, but he jumped away from her. The sudden loss of his body heat pressed against her made her huff, her foot stomping petulantly.
"You're about to be late for Arithmancy," he smirked, leaning against a desk and crossing a foot over his ankle.
Hermione swore her vision turned a shade of crimson as she ripped the door open. "You're a rotten prat, Malfoy."
Slughorn's party was far more grand than it had been sixth year. The first thing she noticed was that there were more people in attendance; it almost resembled a small Yule Ball for the upperclassmen.
Michael was dressed brilliantly, with a navy set of dress robes and a floral bow tie with hints of blush in it to match Hermione's fit and flare dress. It wasn't anything over the top, but the color was not something Hermione would normally find in her closet and she felt overtly feminine with her blushed cheeks and pink painted lips.
"Do you want a fizzy water with cherry juice? I spotted a tray floating around…" Michael rose up on his tiptoes to search the exact location.
Hermione followed his gaze, but her own search ended as she spotted the blond staring daggers at her from across the room. She gulped and nodded to Michael who took off in search of a drink.
Had Malfoy always looked so handsome in a set of dress robes? Merlin and Morgana, it should be illegal for a pair of trousers to fit anyone so well. She offered him a demure smile, accompanied by a polite nod, but Malfoy it seemed was interested in participating from afar. He kicked off the pillar he was smugly leaning against and began crossing the room to where she stood.
Hermione ignored the pixies who'd taken temporary residence in her ribs and moved towards the edge of the room where an empty table waited for her. Shifting her weight back and forth in an attempt to ignore the heated stare burning the side of her face. She hadn't spoken to Malfoy since the incident in the classroom and although with each passing day, her heart shrivelled further, on the outside she was calm(ish) and collected. Merlin be damned if Draco Malfoy was going to ruffle her feathers.
Without looking over her shoulder, she could feel his approach. There was no denying his presence… no matter how badly she wanted to.
"You clean up nice, Granger." His voice was just above her ear, sending goosebumps down her neck as his warm breath fanned over her. If she were to step back just a touch, she knew she'd find herself pressed against his stomach.
"Oh, Malfoy," she feigned indifference. "I didn't realise you were coming. Where's your date?"
"It appears she came with someone else," he said, his husky voice rumbling from deep in his chest.
Unbidden, her eyes sought his form, again, , leading her to peek over her shoulder at him and subsequently curse the flopping in her belly. "Pity for you" She shrugged, ignoring how forced that sounded to her own ears, and that his lips pulled up into a smug smirk.
"Ah, don't count me out just yet, Granger." Damn, that tongue. Flicking out to wet his lips and causing another riotous flip of her stomach.
"Here you are!" Her date cooed, offering her a flute of red bubbles. "Malfoy, how are you?" Michael held out his hand with a bright grin and Malfoy sneered, taking it with a roll of his eyes and taking a step back from her. "Did you find a table, Hermione?"
"This one looked free, if it's alright?" She offered him a small, shy smile as she moved towards a seat and Michael pulled the chair out for her.
"Perfect," Michael grinned, sitting in the seat next to her and resting his arm over the back of her chair.
Malfoy's eyes blew wide and his lips pulled back into a silent snarl at the boy's arm around Hermione and she couldn't help but chuckle, turning her attention to her date. Before she could speak, about to remark on a new book she'd happened across that she thought he might enjoy; she was interrupted by the scraping of a chair next to her against tile.
Malfoy was plopping into the seat next to her, an unpleasant frown gracing his normally lovely lips.
"What are you doing Malfoy?" Hermione piped, her brow arched up near her hairline.
Draco plucked the white linen from his plate and draped it over his lap. "Should be quite obvious. As you said, this tables empty and I am in need of a place to sit. So I thought… why the fuck not?"
Michael coughed on the bubbles in his glass and Hermione's cheeks flushed in her rage.
"And you thought that this seat, when there are seven others, would be the best one for you to occupy?"
Draco's head tilted side to side a few times as he considered her words. "This one seems just as good as any, I suppose. Best view, if I may be so bold." His lustful gaze travelled from her lips down to the disappearing line of her cleavage and Hermione's nostrils flared in response, turning her back on him.
"Michael, have you heard about the new book by Todd Flynn?"
Draco snorted behind her.
"I haven't, is it any good?"
Hermione straightened her spine, trying to ignore the tapping of a fingernail against the fine china by the petulant blond over her shoulder.
"It's fascinating, really. It's historical fiction, his take on the Goblin Wars, told in reverse. It begins with the final battle and each chapter brings you back towards the beginning."
"It's dull," Draco drawled. "Insipid, really." Hermione's eyes shot round as her jaw fell open with an audible pop.
"Excuse me?" Hermione leered over her shoulder at him. "I wasn't aware you were in our conversation."
"Well, it's hard not to be when you're discussing things right in front of me— horribly rude, might I add. But anyway, Flynn is a tosser. Do you know what happens when you begin a book at the end?"
"Obviously— as I've just said I read it…" Hermione huffed, tucking a curl behind her ear and trying to return to Michael, who was looking positively uncomfortable as he squirmed in the wake of their bickering. "Anyway, learning about the war from those events is really quite brilliant. Without knowing the reasons leading up to it, you're forced to question the motives of everyone—"
Draco groaned, falling in his seat like sullen child. "I thought you were meant to be clever, Granger. Fuck all now if you thought that book had a single page of brilliance."
That seemed to be the knut the broke the dragon's back as she gasped, turning in all of her magnificent rage to shove her pointer finger into his chest, earning a yelp and a laugh.
"You are such a prat!"
"So you say, Granger. Repeatedly." Draco said with a bored wave of his hand. "I've almost come to think of it as a term of endearment by now."
"You shouldn't," Hermione retorted, her eyes catching behind Draco's shoulder on the few swaying couples on the dance floor. "Michael, care to dance?" She jumped from her chair, snagging Michaels hand and tugging him forward without waiting for a response.
Michael grimaced as she placed herself in his embrace and they began a slow twirl.
"Hermione, is everything alright?" Michael's voice was trembling and low and Hermione blinked a few times, trying to calm her indignant fury.
"Yes," she clipped. "Malfoy is being rotten— more rotten than usual, that is."
"He seems to be rather put-out at you being here with me…" Corner managed a quick peek over his shoulder, where they both found a seething Slytherin glaring holes in their backs. "You know I'm gay, right?" Michael looked at her with a nervous smile. "I mean… I didn't think it was a secret."
"Oh, of course I do, Michael. However, he doesn't…" She jerked her chin at Malfoy who didn't tear his eyes from her.
"I won't be cross if you want to spend the evening with him, you know. I didn't realise you two had started something up… but I guess I can't say I'm all that surprised, now I think of it."
Hermione took a small step back. "I mean Malfoy and I aren't—" she flustered over her words, letting out small puffs of air as she floundered. "He's just bothering me."
"I'm not an idiot, Hermione." Michael chuckled. "Why don't you ask him to dance? I really don't mind."
"No!" Hermione balked, returning to his embrace and turning them so her back was to Malfoy. "No, no. Let's just have fun. Dinner will be served soon anyway."
She managed one last look over her shoulder and watched as Draco slipped a flask from the pocket of his robes and knocked it back. Wincing as the liquid inside slid down his throat but Hermione didn't miss the tightness framing his eyes.
Dinner passed exactly as Hermione imagined. For every thoughtful comment she offered to Michael, she was met with a nasty retort from Draco.
If she mentioned how much she loved the honey butter, Draco quipped that it wasn't quite as good as the butter at the Manor.
If she remarked on the music, Draco retorted that musicians were amateur at best.
If she noted how handsome Michael looked in that shade of blue… well, at that Draco had downright snorted, muttering something about 'infuriating-witch-trying-to-get-a-rise-out-of-him'.
As the pudding cleared, Hermione was quick in her attempt to escape the table but the sound of Draco clearing his throat, made her pause.
"Care to dance, Granger?" Draco asked flatly, not waiting for an answer as he stood, closing the button on his dress robes and holding his hand out to her.
Hermione stared at his extended palm for an excruciating long moment. "I'm here with Michael."
Draco's eyes fluttered back in his skull and he rolled his head to the side to speak to her date. "Do you mind if I take Hermione for a dance, Corner?"
"Oh, of course, mate!" Michael's gaze was caught on a handsome boy near the punch table who making eyes at him. "Have fun."
With a resigned sigh, Hermione placed her fingers in his palm and stood. His thumb brushed along her knuckles and she ignored the riotous little garden gnome who was having a fit in her belly.
The song was slow and sweet and Hermione's nerves got the best of her as she stumbled into his arms. They were silent as his hand slipped from her waist to her lower back and sweat broke out over her palms. There was a strange tightness in her throat as she refused to meet his gaze, even though she could feel his stare on her cheek.
"Having fun, Granger?" His voice was missing the hard edge it had held the rest of the night and Hermione felt her lower lip quiver.
She hadn't expected to feel so overcome with emotion tonight, but with school just weeks from ending she realised there was a goodbye in her near future— one that she wasn't ready to make.
In all her years of knowing Draco Malfoy she found him to be pretentious and hard headed. He was arrogant and annoyingly stubborn, maybe even more so than herself.
But he was more than those things, he was also quietly caring; thoughtful in ways she would have never imagined. He snuck her cheese toasties when she was holed up in the library and once brought her a box of truffles from Honeydukes she'd mentioned she loved. After sex he'd always trace a fingertip down her spine and pepper kisses along her hairline, surprising her with the utmost tenderness that made her keen.
And if she was being honest with herself, which she always strived to be, she wasn't ready for them to take a step back… she was ready for quite the opposite.
"Why are you crying?" Draco asked, his voice nearly a whisper.
Hermione blinked, feeling her wet lashes against her cheekbones and her breath quaked in her chest. She hadn't realised she had been.
"I don't know. Just… this isn't how I saw tonight going, I guess. I hate fighting with you…" Her confession sobered the tension lingering between them.
His hand pulled her closer so their chests were bumping together. She wanted to bury her face in his chest and drown in his cologne.
"I rather like bickering with you, Granger. Gets me all hot and bothered and ready to take it out in you in bed." Draco's lips pulled up into a cocky smirk and despite herself, Hermione laughed, her hand leaving his shoulder to wipe at the tears striping her cheek.
"People are going to talk—" Hermione gestured with her chin at the few people staring at them.
His pale brows knitted together as he stared down at her. "If you're embarrassed, you can go back to Corner. I have no intent of holding you hostage."
Something stabbed and twisted in Hermione's side. "If I'm embarrassed? You're the one keeping us a secret, Malfoy."
"Me?" Malfoy said, affronted. "Are you barking? This entire secret relationship thing was your idea, Granger."
They had stopped dancing, locked in a challenging glare with their hands still wrapped around each other.
"No. No it wasn't— I have never wanted to keep us a secret!"
"Granger, what on earth would I have to lose by keeping us in a broom closet. It's you with the reputation to ruin by being seen with me." Dracos gaze darkened as his eyes roamed her features.
Guilt and shame and something that felt too much like sadness pained her. She shook her head back and forth, unable to make sense of what he was saying because there was absolutely no way that this monumental of a misunderstanding had occurred between such two bright and capable people.
"Malfoy, I'm not ashamed of being with you. I just thought you didn't want—"
"Why would I not want you?" he breathed, his words ghosting over her face. "Stupid witch—"
Hermione's jaw fell open to chastise him but before she could his palms were cradling her cheeks, tilting her face and trapping her lips between his. She melted under his touch as her hands trailed over the broad planes of his chest and encircled his neck.
His hand slid from her face to thread through her curls while the other nestled into her lower back and arched her into him. When his tongue ran across the seam of her lips, she opened willingly and their tongues brushed together, eliciting a quiet moan from deep within her chest.
The kiss consumed her; soft but breath stealing and if it were possible, she'd find a way to get closer to him. The crowds and the music and the bustle of the room faded away as they lost each other in this kiss.
Pulling apart, they rested their foreheads together. Around them the room stilled; Hermione felt dozens of curious eyes on them but in that moment she couldn't be bothered to care. Instead, she lifted onto her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his once more.
"I'm mad about you, Granger," Draco admitted with a smug grin. "If I knew it had been a choice I wouldn't have hidden you for a single moment." His gaze flickered over to where Corner was watching them idly, chatting with the cute boy over a bowl of punch. "Corner's going to have kittens now that I've stolen his date away."
A chuckle bubbled past her lips as his proud grin faded into a confused grimace. "Corner's not into me, Malfoy. He just asked me as a friend."
"Bollocks, that's what all blokes say who are scared of being turned down," Draco said with a severe roll of his eyes.
"No. Malfoy, really. He's gay— he just wanted to go as friends."
The moment that followed was one Hermione was unlikely to forget. His adorable mortification pulled at his features until they were all sort of downtrodden and he let out a groan.
"Of course he is." Draco growled, realising he'd been acting the fool for nothing. "And you knew?"
Through her giggles she managed a single nod. "Everyone knows."
"Well, that's that I suppose." Draco's hand wrapped around hers and he led her quickly off the dance floor.
Hermione sought out Michael and gave him a small wave and he returned it with a cheeky smile as he flirted with the boy from before over a bowl of punch. "Where are we going?"
"Somewhere I can properly ravage you without all those pervy onlookers. Happy to be out in the open, Granger, truly… but I don't need to fuck you with an audience." Malfoy stopped, turning suddenly with a curious twitch to his brow. "Unless you're into it."
Hermione glared back at him, her eyes narrowing into slits and her lip curling. "Decidedly not."
"Worth a shot," he winked. "This way, Granger."
A/N: Mega shouts to MCal for her Alpha/Beta goddess-ness. Surely I would have deleted it all without you. The scene when Draco talks all filthy like to Hermione is STOLEN! Yes. I stole it from Vampire Diaries! MWahaha ! (also, Delena 4eva) It screamed Dramione at me and so I plugged in here.
Happy Birthday, InDreams! May the muses cover you in fandom kisses today and everyday.