::one::

Third Year

Hermione glared at the floor ahead of her as she walked, not caring who she ran into in the corridor. Stupid Divination and that stupid crackpot professor. Class earlier had not been the first time that she had been both humiliated and enraged by that teacher, but the fact made her no less angry.

She wished she could just punch everyone she was upset at. Oh how wonderful it had felt the other day to give Malfoy what he deserved. She'd do it again in a heartbeat. Although, no matter what state she was in, she still found herself shocked and appalled at the very notion of attacking a professor, even if it was someone like that talentless loon.

"Hey, watch it!" someone said from behind Hermione, someone she had just collided shoulders with. She paid them no mind and ignored the sudden throbbing in her right shoulder. Whoever it was didn't call her out on her poor behavior, and Hermione found herself only a couple corridors away from the Gryffindor tower in no time.

It was the end of classes for the day, and Hermione was beyond exhausted from her double-classes, thanks to her handy time-turner.

There was a crack in the tile that Hermione was staring at, and when she had almost gotten to it, she suddenly found herself slammed into a nearby wall, her books dropped and forgotten on the floor and a dull ache in her back. She bit her lip as her poor shoulder contacted with the stone wall and squeezed her eyes shut.

Feeling breath on her face, Hermione ventured to open her eyes and turn her head to look up at her assaulter.

Angry grey eyes penetrated her brown ones, and Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Malfoy," she spat, like it was a curse word. She looked around behind his head and shoulders and found that they were the only living souls in the corridor. Where were all the Gryffindors that were usually loitering around on their way up to the tower?

Malfoy's hands were balled into fists around the fabric of her sweater just below her shoulders. He brought her forward a little, and then slammed her harshly back into the wall.

Tears sprung to Hermione's eyes when her head made contact with the wall and a gasp escaped her lips.

"Mudblood," Malfoy said lowly, like it was something dirty in his mouth.

Hermione's hands instantly found Malfoy's chest and began to push him away. "Let me go." She said angrily.

He spoke as if he hadn't heard her, and he ignored the hands on his chest. "You know what I think?"

"Didn't know you could think." She muttered, interrupting him when he had not left a pause for her to speak.

He slammed her against the wall again and she squeezed her eyes shut in pain.

"I think you need to be taught a lesson." He spoke softly—although not kindly—and Hermione reluctantly opened her eyes to find his face very, very close to her own.

"What could you teach me that I don't already know?" she asked defiantly, mockingly, hinting to what they both knew: she was first in all of their shared classes, and he always came second or third in the line, sometimes—rarely though—even after Potter.

Malfoy glared at her, but thankfully didn't slam her into the wall again. Instead, he unknotted his hands from her shirt and slid them down her arms, giving Hermione chills. He smirked when he saw her shudder. His fingers grasped her wrists and gripped them so tightly that Hermione yelped in both pain and surprise.

Yes, Hermione could throw a decent punch when she caught the other person off guard, but the fact of the matter was that Draco Malfoy was male, and as such, he was stronger. End of story.

Hermione watched with wide eyes as Malfoy moved her wrists to her side, and kept them there with his tight grip. She looked around frantically for someone—anyone—to walk by and save her.

Her gaze caught Malfoy's, and she began to panic.

"What are you going to do?" She hated how fearful and pathetic her voice sounded. What had happened to the girl who, only days ago, had sent Malfoy to the infirmary with a bloody nose?

He smirked at her frantic expression and her voice and leaned in a little bit. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she stared at him with wide eyes. "I already told you," he murmured lowly. "I'm going to teach you a lesson in something you've never dabbled in before."

"Wha—"

Hermione's eyes practically popped out of her head as Malfoy's lips met hers, and shivers went down her spine. They stared at each other as their lips continued to touch.

Besides the fact that this was Malfoy that was doing such an intimate thing with her, the most surprising thing about the kiss was that it wasn't rough or harsh or needy or sloppy, like she had always imagined her first kiss to be—she had only recently developed a slight something for her redheaded best friend and had daydreamed of what it would be like to kiss him—but, instead, it was soft, gentle. She had not known that Malfoy was capable of such…vulnerability. She didn't know how else to put it.

Malfoy slowly pulled back—Hermione didn't know how long it had been since he had first leaned in; her mind still wasn't working right—and stared down at her lips. Hermione noticed that she no longer felt any pressure on her wrists, even though his hands were still there, and, just as she thought that, Malfoy's right hand left her wrist and traveled up her arm, shoulder, and neck, until his thumb was gently coasting over Hermione's bottom lip, which was hanging down slightly.

His grey eyes looked back up at hers and he smirked suddenly.

"Bet you've never learned that before." He said cockily.

Hermione sucked in a breath through her mouth—careful not to suck in his thumb—and her breath came out ragged.

"W-Why?" she could barely form that word alone, she was so shaken up. Her stomach was pounding in her chest, and her lungs were dancing from the breaths she was taking.

His smirk suddenly looked rather cruel to Hermione as he spoke, "I've never kissed a mudblood before."

Hermione's senses came back to her all at once, and she glared, her free left hand flying to Malfoy's face as she punched him for the second time.

Caught off guard, Malfoy jumped back, clutching his eye as he groaned.

Hermione angrily walked over and scooped up her books before stomping off, her hair flouncing behind her.

She'd dream about this tonight, she already knew, and many nights after that. He was the very last person she had ever wanted in her dreams.

Stupid, cocky, arrogant git.


Not the first Dramoine fic I've ever started, but the first to appear on this site. This came to me out of no where when I got the urge to read a fic about what happened AFTER Hermione punched Draco in 3rd year, and, since I couldn't really find any, I made one myself. :) This was going to be a one-shot, but then I decided to continue it, because I really wanted to see what happened next. I've already got the second chapter written but I'm not going to put that up right away.

Hope you liked this, and the second chapter will be coming up soon. :D