Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the plot.
A/N: I really need a beta!
Chapter 1
He was undoubtedly beautiful. High cheekbones, full lips, platinum blond hair that was always slicked back to perfection -almost too severely, she thought. What she wouldn't give to see it ruffled, mussed up, just for once.
But his best feature had to be his eyes. Those cool grey eyes, always assessing, always analyzing. Always reminding her of a cool winter breeze.
On the odd occasions that they would rest on her, her heart would skip a beat and the rest of the world would fall away. It was as though he could truly see her.
Hermione looked away from the object of her attention and scoffed slightly at her own, naive thought. Draco Malfoy didn't see her, he saw right through her. It was purely wishful on her part to think otherwise.
She toyed with the food on her plate, no longer hungry. She couldn't pinpoint exactly when her...infatuation with Draco had started, but if she had to guess, she would place it around their Fifth Year at Hogwarts.
She had been hurrying back to the Gryffindor Common Room after a Dumbledore's Army meeting and had run headfirst into him. He had instinctively grabbed her arms and pulled her closer to prevent her from landing on her arse and in that instant everything had changed. When she didn't feel the impact of her derrière against the cold, hard stone floor, she had opened her eyes slowly -only to promptly drown into his. She hadn't been able to pull her gaze away for what felt like an eternity, and he had clearly noticed too. His lips had curled into a subtle smirk (or had it been a sneer?) and he had firmly set her away from him, completing the motion by taking a full step back.
"Granger."
The sound of his voice had broken her out of her trance.
"What, Malfoy?"
Another smirk (sneer?). "Watch where you're going next time."
And that had been the full extent of their exchange. It had surprised her later to realize that he hadn't reported Hermione to that awful woman -Umbridge. She didn't want to dwell on what the reason could be behind that. It was bad enough that she had discovered his eyes and couldn't get them out of her head.
For two years.
Hermione considered herself to be a practical girl, and generally, she was. Of course, she was also a living, breathing person and she had her moments of irrationality. But this could no longer be considered "a moment". This was ridiculous. That voice of practicality in her head never missed an opportunity to remind her of just how ridiculous this all was. One did not have a "crush" on a boy for this long. Especially when the boy was Draco Malfoy -son of Lucius Malfoy, prince of Slytherin, purest of the purebloods, hater of muggleborns, and an utterly and completely undecided party in this War with Voldemort.
Or maybe his reluctance to choose a side was a positive, in this case. Given his history, Hermione had expected him to be firmly implanted into the Dark side of the War, and yet here he was -not with the Light, not with the Dark.
The biggest, most ridiculous factor, was that he would never return, or entertain these feelings. She had seen his type and, unless she Transfigured herself into a tall, skinny model with shiny skin and sleek hair, it was definitely not her.
It was all so wrong.
"Hellooo -Hermione, come back to us!"
Hermione blinked. Ron was waving his hand in front of her face. Judging by the looks on his and Harry's face, they had probably been trying to get her attention for a while. Hermione pursed her lips in an attempt to feign composure. There was no way she could ever admit to ogling Draco Malfoy.
"Ronald, please stop waving like a lunatic. I'm right here."
"Didn't seem like it for a bit there, 'Mione. We've called your name at least three times now."
Three times? She shot Harry a quick glance to confirm that Ron wasn't exaggerating. Unfortunately, Harry was nodding along in agreement, looking slightly concerned.
"Is everything okay, Hermione?" Harry asked. "You've been staring over at the Slytherin table for a while now."
"Yes," she sighed, trying to furiously come up with a plausible excuse. "Everything's fine. I just have to talk to Malfoy about some Head Prefect duties and I wanted to catch him before he leaves for...wherever."
It wasn't a complete lie. Because fate clearly held a grudge against her, it just wasn't enough to have this unhealthy attraction towards Draco from afar -now she had the absolute pleasure of experiencing it within their joint Head Prefect living quarters as well.
When Hermione had received the letter over the summer holidays, announcing that she had been appointed as the new Head Girl, she had been ecstatic. Her joy had been short-lived, as upon their arrival to Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore had announced to everyone who her male counterpart would be. Hermione's heart had pounded so hard, she had fully expected to find it on the floor. It had gotten even worse when the two of them had been called up to Dumbledore's office to have their living situation explained to them. Hermione had experienced a head rush so strong that she had had to grip the edges of Dumbledore's desk to stop herself from collapsing.
This couldn't be happening. This is NOT happening.
That was the constant litany running through her head, while Dumbledore spoke. Except that it was happening. Draco had given her a cool once-over. Like he knew the effect he had on her. He probably did know. Hermione wasn't the greatest actor out there and these...sensations were too strong.
They were now two weeks into the new term and Hermione had successfully avoided interacting with him so far. She would leave her room early, return late, spend most of her free time with Ron and Harry, or at the library. Whenever she needed to communicate with Draco, she would do so by leaving notes in his cubby hole and he would respond in a similar fashion. Two weeks in, and they had barely crossed paths in their living quarters. If it were up to her, she would keep it that way. She couldn't trust her words around him.
Sadly, it was not up to her and fate once again reared its ugly head. Right before dinner, Professor McGonagall had pulled her aside and requested that she and Draco refine some aspects of the Prefect patrol schedule and deliver the amended version the next day.
I am sorry for the short notice, Miss Granger, I know this may interfere with any plans you and Mr. Malfoy may have for this evening, but it is quite imperative that we get this distributed before tomorrow's patrols. These are troubling times and we need certain -precautions -in place.
She had sounded sorry. But not as sorry as Hermione had felt for herself. This couldn't be completed via their usual cubby hole communication.
"Malfoy's a gigantic prat. I can't believe they made him Head Boy." Ron grumbled.
"Do you want us to go with you to talk to him?" That was Harry.
Yes. "No, Harry," she smiled weakly, "I'll be fine. Besides, you and Ron will just end up getting into some silly argument with him and that'll be that."
Harry looked unconvinced, but didn't push further. "Let us know if you change your mind."
Hermione glanced over at the Slytherin table again and saw Draco getting up to leave. No time to change her mind now. She stood up quickly -too quickly she realized, as she felt her thigh come into painful contact with the edge of the table —and walked towards him. Bile was rising up in her throat. Was it because she had to finally speak with him, or was it because of how he had to disentangle himself from Astoria Greengrass' embrace? It didn't matter. She quickened her pace as he started heading towards the doors.
"Malfoy."
She thanked the heavens when her voice came out strong and clear.
He stopped and turned around slowly. "Granger."
She stopped in her tracks. Those eyes. It had been a while since she had felt their full force. They pinned her to an invisible wall and Hermione felt her breath catch.
Say something. Pleasepleasepleaseplease-
"I need to talk to you." It wasn't a witty comment, but it was better than nothing.
He looked at her expectantly, so she continued. "Professor McGonagall needs us to make a few changes to the patrol rotations. We need to have it done before patrols tomorrow."
His brows furrowed slightly in annoyance. She half expected him to tell her to do it herself and walk away. She hoped that he would. To his credit, and her misfortune, he did the exact opposite.
"Fine. I have a few things to take care of right now but I can meet you in our Common Room in an hour."
He didn't wait around for her response. She didn't really have one anyway.
Hermione chewed on her lip nervously. Draco was due to arrive any second. She had pulled out the existing Prefect rotation chart and spread it out on one of the tables in their Common Room. She was currently in the process of reviewing the new requirements -or at least trying to. She had reread the same sentence multiple times before her brain had registered the words.
She wished that he would just get here already and put her out of her misery.
"Granger."
"OhmyGod!" Hermione jumped, hand over her heart. In all her anxiety, she hadn't even heard him enter. She cleared her throat slightly. "Malfoy. Thank you for coming."
What?
"What?"
"Er -I said thank you for coming -to -erm, help me with this."
Great. Now he was looking at her like she had lost her marbles. Which she probably had.
He chose not to answer and instead walked over to her side of the table to examine the chart. The action brought him close to her. Too close. She took in a deep breath. Expensive cologne. Rain. He smelled of rain and something else she couldn't quite pinpoint.
"So what are we looking at?"
"Professor McGonagall has given us these requirements-" she pushed the parchment towards him and shivered slightly as their shoulders brushed "-and we have to implement them into the patrol rotation. I've only glanced over the requirements but it was enough to know that this won't be quick or easy."
"Hmm." He frowned as he read the list. "These aren't just amendments -we pretty much need a new rotation altogether." He sighed in exasperation. "And McGonagall needs this tomorrow?"
"That's what she said." The urgency of this request hinted at potential attacks targeting Hogwarts but getting information out of Minerva McGonagall was harder than keeping food out of Ron's mouth at dinner.
"Why?"
"I suppose it's because we need to keep Hogwarts as safe as possible right now. They want to have these extra measures in place to ensure the Prefects' safety as well." Hermione responded, silently congratulating herself on being able to form coherent sentences.
Each Prefect had been given a token. If they spotted anything suspicious during their patrol, they were to press the token and leave the area immediately. This would alert one of the professors to the Prefect's exact location and they would investigate further. The prefects would patrol the corridors alone and then meet up with other prefects on the same floor at a designated spot. A head count was performed to confirm everyone's presence and then they would head back to their dormitories.
"So McGonagall wants us to pair up each Prefect for the patrols, more than one person from each House on every floor, have a Sixth or Seventh year take the lead on head counts and send out this schedule to all the professors? Well, fuck." Draco ran a hand through his hair impatiently. "This is going to take all night."
Perfect. That's exactly what she needed.
An hour into the task, Hermione had to admit that it was going much better than she had expected. They had discussed what needed to be done, set priorities and divvied up the tasks. Hermione had then selected the workstation furthest away from his and gotten down to business.
If Draco noticed Hermione's unusual silence and lack of input, he didn't bring it up. In fact, his own silence allowed Hermione to almost let her guard down in the room. Almost, but not quite. There was a palpable tension in the room that she didn't want to disturb. She was still attuned to his presence, her heart wasn't quite beating at her normal rate and even though she had her back turned to him, she could sense even his smallest movements.
Which was useful, as a few minutes later, she felt him behind her. Gods, this man's footsteps were more silent than Snape's!
"Granger." His voice was low, gravelly, and she felt the vibrations run down her spine. She placed her quill down but didn't turn around.
"Yes?"
Silence, and then-
"Could you look at me when I'm talking to you?" It didn't sound like a suggestion.
Her pulse quickened. She reluctantly turned herself halfway in her chair and looked up at him. In a swift motion, he grabbed arms and pulled her onto her feet. Surprised, she barely registered being pushed against the table and only briefly noticed his intense gaze before his lips crashed into hers.
She couldn't help herself. Her back arched and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to deepen the kiss. She felt the wet heat of his hard tongue searching, probing, and she opened her mouth for him. Shamefully, she registered a short, sharp moan -too feminine to have come from him. It sobered her slightly. She didn't know what his game was, but she was making it too easy for him.
Hermione stilled and brought her hands down to his shoulders, pushing him away. He broke the kiss, but remained pressed against her. He was breathing hard, as was she, and his eyes had turned darker, stormier. He looked almost...angry. She swallowed her fear.
"What are you doing, Malfoy?"
"I'm giving you what you so clearly want, Granger."
Before she could respond, he took her chin and deliberately pressed his lips into hers. She was slower to respond this time, still reeling from his answer. His free hand slid through her hair, tightened its grip and pulled her head back. This second kiss was frantic, wild. Hermione whimpered as he took her bottom lip into his mouth and bit down on it, hard and hungry. His tongue swiped over it to ease the pain and then he was sucking at her tongue, pressing his mouth deeper and deeper against hers.
Hermione's heart was pounding, racing -as was her mind. This was more than a kiss. This was punishment. She could feel the tears forming behind her closed eyelids -but no. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing her cry. She had to stop this -for the sake of her currently fragile mental state.
She wrenched her chin out of his hand and pushed him firmly away. She missed his heat instantly, which disgusted her, considering the circumstances. She made a show of wiping her lips with the back of her hand.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Malfoy?" she spat out at him.
He let out a short, mirthless laugh. "Like I said, Granger. I'm just giving you what you want."
If there was ever a time to be swallowed by a floor, for Hermione, that time was now. Confusion, embarrassment, arousal, anger and shame all crowded her mind. This was not what she wanted. No one in their right minds would want this. But there was something else. A feeling she had never felt before. It made her want to fall to the ground, head in her hands and just scream until it all went away.
"What exactly is it that you think I want, Malfoy? Please, do tell. What deluded process has your mind gone through to justify this?"
"Please, Granger. You know. I know. In fact, I would say the only ones who don't know are your precious best friends."
"Know what?" Her hands were curled up into fists at her side, nails digging into her palms.
"That you want me." He stepped closer and dipped his head to her ear. "To fuck you."
A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed that. Leave a review -constructive criticism welcome and appreciated :)
