A Game of Lust
Hermione loved to study outdoors, but the afternoon sky was gearing up for a storm. The wind leaned the bare beech and crab apple trees and churned-up their fallen browned leaves. November was coming to a close and the snow wasn't far off. Hermione touched the icy windowpane in the Common Room, angling to see the Quidditch Pitch where she knew Harry and Ron were playing a pick-up game.
"They better get their wits about them. Or they'll catch their death!" She muttered under her breath, swearing not to help them with their homework.
She sighed with disappointment at the ghastly weather. To the library it is. Hermione shivered when she turned away from the window. The castle was getting cold again, too. She walked up to her dorm room to gather her books.
The straps of her pushup bra was digging into her shoulders and the underwire was stabbing her ribcage – it was long time to change into something more comfortable. She unlocked her trunk and carefully fished out a lacy olive bralette from France from her neatly folded attire. No matter how she adjusted the scoop neckline of her baggy burgundy sweater, the lace would make itself known. Hermione changed out from black her stockings and skirt into soft brown corduroys. She left the dorm hiding her outfit underneath her black robes.
The library was packed but Madam Pince was making it her life's mission to keep the noise down. Hermione new the library better than the back of her hand, all the hundreds of narrow rows and the best places to study. She found her favorite soft by the window that faced the Quidditch Pitch, anxious for her friends to return from the cold. It was a long bench that sat beneath the window with many downy pillows. Hermione bundled herself up against a corner and began to read the assigned chapter for Transfiguration.
She ignored the students who came and went in this place that was borderline-sacred to her. The more people there were, the hotter the library became. Hermione growled and she unfastened her robes, falling to a heap at her backside. She adjusted herself and resumed reading. Then her worst bully emerged onto her lounge area.
She needn't glance up at Draco Malfoy. She'd recognize his tall frame and white-blond hair even out of the corner of her eye. He had grey eyes and a pale complexion with jutting cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Hermione would rather die than admit that he was attractive … in that haughty bad-boy sort of way. He took a seat parallel to hers, about fifteen feet away.
He lounged his long body across his bench, his shirt sliding up out of where it was tucked into his black trousers. She saw the V of his hipbones and the bottom of his taut abs. His hair was hanging loose instead of his usual slicked-back fashion, curtaining his face. She was not going to be the first to leave; this was her spot. Hermione endured almost an hour of this before she became aware that the neckline of her sweater had slid down and almost the entire left side of her bralette and cleavage was exposed. Hermione felt her cheeks heat and her throat tighten, hastily gathering the neckline to her chin.
"You foul, loathsome pervert!" She exclaimed shrilly, unsheathing her wand.
He got lazily to his feet and used the hem of his button-up shirt to mop his brow, exposing almost his entire torso. Hermione wondered if there was any fat to him at all. All she saw was muscle.
"I could say the same to you," he said with his silky deep voice.
Hermione spat out, "What?!"
He dropped his hemline and sneered, "Hush, Granger. This is a library."
She couldn't take it any longer. She gathered her belongings as quickly as she could with her hands trembling in humiliation and fury. Hermione felt like she might puke. She exited the library and ran into Ginny Weasley.
"Hermione," Her smile faded when she saw the distressed expression on Hermione's face. "Merlin, what happened? You look all red."
Hermione gulped, her throat felt dry, "A boy saw my bra. Can't count on anyone to be a gentleman these days!"
Ginny had the decency to not laugh, "I'm sorry. How did that happen?"
"It's my sweater," Hermione explained, opening her robes to show it. "It slipped down while I was studying."
"Nothing breaks your concentration," Ginny felt at the sweater. "You should wear better-fitting clothes. Yours are too big to get away with just one layer. I'm sure he enjoyed the view -"
"It was Draco Malfoy." Hermione added with a slight whimper.
She'd never seen Ginny's eyes so wide nor her tonsils before.
"Ewww! Ugh! Oh, Hermione." She gave Hermione a hug. "That's horrible. Did he say anything?"
Hermione shook her head and sank down on the bench nearby, "He's going to tell everyone in Slytherin and they'll tell the whole school."
Ginny thought for a moment, "… So what?"
Hermione frowned, "'So what'? So what my reputation is tarnished! Everyone will think me a slut!"
"Hermione, it's high time that you embrace your sexuality." Ginny said.
Hermione gaped, "My what?!"
"I date around and I get lots of gossip. I'm sure Malfoy gets passed around the Slytherin common room, too. Think about it. You can use your beauty to your advantage. It's power."
"You're being absurd!"
"You have an hourglass figure, Hermione. You have tan skin without going out in the sun. I'd kill for your eyelashes!"
"Ginny, stop." Hermione laughed uncomfortably.
"TBoys are just coming to the realization of this. They're slower than us girls. Haven't you ever wanted to go out with someone? Snog someone?"
Hermione teased back, "I should take you to Madam Pomfrey because clearly you've lost your mind!"
"The boys get to do it. Why can't we?" Ginny finished her argument, "The castle should get a taste of just how sexy you can be and Malfoy will be picking his jaw off the floor."
Hermione could not relax at all that night. She just could not shake the memory of Draco's taut abdominals and jutting hipbones. That tantalizing v-shape made her pulse involuntarily inside her pelvis. At the same time, her heart hammered with fear. She dreaded Harry and Ron's reactions to hearing about her wardrobe malfunction. But she'd cast herself from the Astronomy Tower if they knew how she was thinking about Draco right now.
Hermione dawdled with getting ready the next morning, feeling hyper with nerves despite the lack of sleep. She was anxious to hear from Harry and Ron if any rumors have already started about her wardrobe malfunction in the library. She knew the gossip would be ruthless if Draco told anyone. Ginny's advice bounced around in her head while she lingered over deciding what to wear. She debated wearing the school black pointed hat to hide her face.
But these hats were so rarely worn that it was more likely to call more attention to her, even with the cold weather. For the first time, she cringed at her Head Girl badge. If the rumors are already being passed around, no one was going to take her status seriously anymore. She layered herself with a grey crew-neck sweater and black trousers. Hermione was not as unaware of her own attractiveness as Ginny conveyed.
She knew that it was not her brains that attracted the famous Viktor Krum to her when she was merely fifteen years old. She put in more effort when the times called for it, such as for holiday parties. But her school marks came first otherwise. Hermione leaned on her hands, eyeing herself in the mirror. Why would she want to put in the effort to look beautiful for Draco Malfoy?
He has done nothing but torture her for the last six years, personally and by bullying her friends. Perhaps ignoring him was not teaching him any lesson after all. He certainly was not deterred by her beating him in every subject. Torturing Draco Malfoy with her beauty … the idea made could not be uprooted.