10
Things I Hate About You I
hate the way you talk to me,
and
the way you wear your hair. I
hate the way you bring me down;
I
hate it when you glare. I
hate your big, dumb Pureblood rank,
and
the way you screw with my mind. I
hate you so much it makes me sick,
sneering
'Mudblood' all the time. I
hate the way you're always right,
I
hate it when you lie. I
hate it when you make me laugh,
even
worse when you make me cry. I
hate it when you're not around,
and
the fact that you won't come to call. But
mostly I hate the way I don't hate you,
not
even close,
not
even a little bit,
not
even at all.
Hermione stretched out happily, book in hand, within the confines belonging to the private library of the Head dormitories, at her usual table. As ever, countless stacks of books, literature, and research were strewn full circle around her. This seemed to be a common sight in her presence.
It was the first day in weeks that she couldn't be bothered with anything, or by anyone, to be able to finally relax and indulge in the wonders of the words on the pages. She had completed the hefty load of weekly assigned class and homework the night before, leaving the rest of the weekend free. Harry and Ron were once again on the Quidditch pitch practicing for the end of year tournament. They would be engrossed in the game for most, if not the whole of what was left of the day. Ginny was also nowhere to be found. She and Luna had ventured off to Hogsmeade to undoubtedly shop for useless things. As for the Head Boy, she could care less if he was bleeding to death in their shared bathroom.
All of these distractions successfully led her friends and acquaintances away and would keep them away, leaving Hermione in complete and sustained solace.
As she flipped through the last few pages of Fundamentals of Magical Evolution, she smiled to herself as to what she could do with the day. No one was presently around, at all, to bother her in her antics... At least, that's what she had hoped.
In that very moment, her wish had failed her.
From beyond the maze of bookshelves emerged the last person thought to ever be caught dead in this part of the Head quarters, in the presence of a muggle born or countless masses of literature... Head Boy, Draco Malfoy.
I hate the way you talk to me,
"Well, what a surprise to find Bookworm Granger within a library in her oh-so-precious free time. Who would have guessed?" The statement, as overused as it was, oozed with sarcasm from his foul lips while he paced his way over to further annoy her.
Hermione's stomach dropped. She knew where and how far he would take this. There was just no stopping him. How she hated the words from his mouth.
"You really should branch out and try to find some actual people to replace these sickly thick books with as your company... Then again, maybe not." he reconsidered, smirking as he began to see irritation build in her cinnamon eyes. "You are a mudblood after all. Don't spread your filth around, keep it in the library; it's best for the rest of the schools' health."
Slamming down the book she held, Hermione turned in her seat to address the cocky Slytherin. "Was there something you needed, Malfoy?" she stressed, frustration getting the better of her.
Malfoy smirked. It was blatantly obvious that Granger was in little, to no mood for him and as God made him a Malfoy, he would use it to his great advantage.
At the sight of his devilish expression, Hermione rolled her eyes and exhaled forcefully. "Don't you have something better to do then bother me... like shag Parkinson for the thousandth time?" she spat, through gritted teeth.
Walking over to the oak table that Hermione occupied, Draco set down a hand and leaned against the wood. "You know Granger; it's rude to delve into someone's personal business like that, and to not pay the proper respects to your superiors." At this, he could literally feel the coolness of the ice in her eyes. He was winning this unspoken competition.
And the way you wear your hair.
Crossing her arms where she sat, Hermione fumed. "Superiors! If anyone is to be superior it should be me. I can dance circles around you with my magical skill. I've beaten your every grade. What can you do... run to Daddy every time you screw up to the point of adversity?" Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself a minuscule amount and went on. "As for taking any respect toward you... not with the slightest chance in Hell will you ever assume control over me? I won't be brought low enough as to take orders from some blond 'bad boy' that wears his hair slicked to his head like a grease-ball with that much extra-hold gel."
Draco face faltered if only for a second. He was fond of his platinum locks and the sleek look the gel imposed.
This slight pause was enough to push Hermione on. "You look absolutely ridiculous! How you manage to get girls is a huge mystery to me."
I hate the way you bring me down,
Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her and smirked like there was no tomorrow. She had just dug herself into a very deep hole. "Of course it would be a mystery to you. Do you see yourself? No one in their right mind would want to even look at your filthy body with the slightest intention of something more then disgust."
Hermione bowed her head and balled her fists, trying to fight his words from her mind.
"There's no point trying to put on a good show either." Draco drawled on, as if uninterested in her flaws. The case was very much the contrary. He loved to rip her apart, seam by seam, and make her feel broken; it was his relentless hobby. "No matter how hard you try, how much you do, and how long you do it for, you will never be anything more than Potter's know-it-all sidekick. You're not even recognized as a female, and rightly so with those hideously baggy jumpers, and the rats nest you call hair. Purely sickening..."
Draco grinned maliciously as she uncharacteristically flinched from his words, yet the unimaginable happened. She immediately smiled with pure sarcasm. However cruel it was meant to be, the look it gave her was just too indigestible for Draco to grasp.
Picking up a book in her arms, Hermione stood to return it to it's rightful home on the shelf across the way where it came from. "Seven years, Malfoy." She shook her head, with her back turned to her steel-eyed foe. "Seven years, and you still pull the same shit and insults that were unoriginal, even then. I've grown up. I can take criticism. I know I'm not beautiful, or charming, or lovely in every way." Turning around, she swiftly made eye contact with him. "I know I'm a bookworm, a know-it-all, a sidekick, a... mudblood." Sighing deeply, Hermione rested her face in one hand, before lifting it when recomposed. "I'm all of those imperfect things, yet you aren't the God you claim to be either."
I hate it when you glare.
Draco caught wind of the accusing tone in her voice, snapping his eyes to her and surveying her in a once over. She wasn't done with this, not even close.
Resting against the nearest bookshelf, Hermione held strong and persevered. "No one's perfect, get that through your mind. No one will ever be, least of all is you."
His look hardened, as his eyes narrowed.
"You are cruel, severe, deceitful, unkind, just to name a few. You have no respect for anyone outside of your own damned family, if even that, and never will. You dish out harsh words as if they were gifts to the world, dirty looks never far behind." As she continued, Hermione unconsciously left the support of the bookshelf and drew toward him. "At least I own up to my flaws. At least I'm a decent human being. Can you say the same for yourself?"
Still holding his deadly look strong on his face, Hermione could swear that if looks had the power to kill she would have been lifeless long ago from Draco murderous glare of hate.
"You are a dirty, foul Mudblood. Nothing more, never will you be one bit decent." If possible, Draco expression darkened even further, as if he would actually be ready to make a move to do her in.
Only a Malfoy could glare like that.
I
hate your big, dumb Pureblood rank,
Hermione
glowered. It was as if the words that had rendered Malfoy so vicious
hadn't even sunk into his mind.
"Do they not teach you the status of humans in that disgusting muggle world of yours, Granger?" the vile expression unyielding. "I will always be two steps higher then even the dirt on your shoes, Mudblood, so I suggest you treat it as such."
Hermione was losing it at an accelerated pace. "You say that my blood is the dirt of the Earth? At least I'm not spawned from a long line of inbred egotistical maniacs that are obsessed with the clarity of such bodily fluids. Next thing you'll come to find is that you'll be your mother's brother as well as her son. Incest, now that's what is purely sickening..."
Leaning back on the side of the table with a content and smug look, Draco added to his previous rant. "Purebloods will forever have the magical throne, as it were; no matter the means of purity, we will achieve them. Blood isn't something you can or should change. We will always be the greatest class of witches and wizards; never will there be one ounce of competition to our stature.
Hermione snorted. "I think you're using 'stature' in the wrong context, Malfoy. One of stature has a high level of respect gained by impressive development or achievement, none of these qualities can ever be said about your blood line. Also, on the other hand, you are not enticing, or captivating enough to lure in such 'stature' as you may call it. Speaking of you, there is no attraction, in general.
Draco couldn't help himself; she was digging herself into the dirt again. It was just too easy. As he pushed himself upright from the table's surface, a sultry smirk crept onto his features, knowing it would melt most, if not all resistance Hermione currently possessed.
He had literally called every shot as it happened. As soon as he had flashed his best smirk to date, Hermione's facial expression started to soften and her resolve began to crumble. Yet, even with the lack of intense resistance, Draco could tell that Granger wouldn't be an easy one to crack.
Time for play two.
Still with silence in the air and a smirk on his lips, Malfoy slowly pulled together his stance, using his body as a weapon.
Hermione scanned him skeptically as he gradually neared her. Her eyes widened as, for the first time that afternoon, she realize that his tie was loose, his polo was fully unbuttoned, his sleeves were rolled up, and his pants sat a bit lower. The muscles of his torso and forearms rippled and tensed as he ventured closer and closer to the cinnamon-eyed girl. She swallowed hard, drawing a breath to steady her heart. She was wrong; there was an attraction... a forbidden attraction that sent flames into her wild eyes.
He got her... Now to play with fire.
and the way you screw with my mind.
"Tell me Granger, are you a virgin?" He smirked finding that her answer was at an absence, knowing full well what it was. "Have you ever even kissed a boy?"
Hermione turned to face away from Malfoy. Where had this come from? What was she suppose to say when she knew he was steadily grasping the upper hand.
Taking her silence as a triumph, he seductively grinned and pushed on. "Have you ever had thoughts about a boy that you knew were wrong?"
Silence.
He was very near to her now, within a foot-falls distance and closing. "Have you ever wished that someone would touch you, and blow your mind?"
Again nothing but ear-splitting silence.
Now for the final strike.
Slowly, Draco began to back Hermione against the nearest bookshelf.
As her back softly collided with the leather backings of the book bindings, Hermione let out a small gasp.
Pressing himself, ever-so-slightly against her hot body, Draco rested one hand to the right of Hermione's head and lent down tantalizingly slow until he was within a whispers shot of her ear. "Have you ever touched yourself, wishing it was someone else having their way with you?"
Against her own will Hermione closed her eyes and moaned quietly into the curve of his neck.
He had won. He had shattered her resolve into infinity. With a grand smirk of pride, Draco withdrew harshly from the now wanton girl.
A growl escaped Hermione's throat as she began to comprehend what had just happened. She had let him get the best of her, and in return he had crushed her like the foolish little girl she seemed to have become.
I hate you so much it makes me sick,
Draco laughed wildly at her failed composure. "So I was right," he smirked, holding the husky tone to his voice. "and to think that you had the nerve to resist me."
Hermione could feel the sickening drop in her stomach once more. How could she have been so stupid?
Leaning against the bookshelf end adjacent to Hermione, Malfoy proceeded to sink his teeth deeper into her, tearing her apart. "You could never resist a temptation such as me. Do you think I earned the title 'Slytherin Sex God' by studying from books, or letting people have the last word? No."
Another treacherous smirk crept upon his chiseled features. He really was handsome. Too bad he was an asshole of epic proportions...
What a waste. Hermione thought.
"You see Granger; I am very much a god. You, yourself, even just proved that you worship me. It's such a pity that you're among the foulest creatures known to mankind. I bet right know you are wishing that I'd slam you into those bookshelves and shag you senseless; If you were any other girl I would. I bet you think of me when you do the dirty deed, on your own... I bet you wish I was there atop you, caressing every bit of exposed flesh. Don't you, Mudblood?"
Hermione couldn't tell if she was disgusted by Draco Malfoy actions and words, or incredibly turned on. She guessed it was an amalgamation of both... Arousal from his husky voice, sultry smirk, slightly disheveled hair, of which he had ran his hands through several times; or disgust at her own thoughts of lust and longing for her notorious arch-enemy. What had gotten to her?
Draco Malfoy, that's what.
He caused her skin
crawl, her stomach wrench, her palms to sweat, her heart to race, her
inside to burn...
Oh
dear God!
He had seduced her into feeling this. He was messing with her mind
and body.
Ripping her eyes from his body, which she had previously been scanning subconsciously, she met his cool, steel gaze. "I hate you..." she spoke, low and threatening. "I hate every ounce of blood that courses through your sick and twisted veins. You get a high from torturing me, I know you do. So who can't resist whom now, Draco?" She emphasized his name, spitting it from her lips like poison. "You get your kicks out of screwing with my mind and manner. You'll never change... always the sadistic, juvenile brat that I was sickened by within the first seconds we met." She could see the deadly look in his eyes return, but pushed further on. "I wouldn't give a damn in the least if your 'Dark Lord' did you in at this moment for even conversing with me. In fact, I hope it happens, and I hope it's ugly... I hope that I'll be standing there to watch the whole violent and torturous display-"
Draco had had enough. In one swift movement, he reared up and had gripped Hermione's arms in a vicious hold, slamming her murderously against the shelves.
Despite herself and her courage, Hermione let out a terrified whimper.
Sneering 'Mudblood' all the time.
"The only way that you will ever be in the presence of Lord Voldemort is if you are right by my side, to endure the same fate... Mudblood." Draco whispered callously. "No treacherous blood-filth could survive one second before such a man, not even you... Count that as a promise you dirty little wretch. You are the shit of the world."
So there it was the accidental truth of where Draco Malfoy loyalties lied. Funny enough, Hermione expected this... expected his actions to play it off as if he knew she was never fooled by him. It terrified her.
She began to struggle in his grips, hoping to Merlin that she could get out of this. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for anything that could be of any help.
"Look at me you damn Mudblood!" Draco was quickly losing his control. Why wouldn't she look his way when he demanded it? Defiant bitch. He snarled to himself. Within the seconds that followed the words from his lips, he could feel a slight resistance. Focusing back to the dirty girl he held captive he could finally see the hurt in her eyes from his repetitious insult. Even after this long his fond nickname for her still pierced her skin. He loved it. Once more, just once more. "'Mudblood'."
Hermione had had it. The fight was on. She twisted and turned, kicked and tried to punch, screamed and jerked. He would not do this to her, even if it took every once of her strength.
I hate the way you're always right,
As Hermione struggled, she caught the look on Draco face. His eyes were becoming hard as stone, his features were firm and concrete, and she could see the muscles lining his jaw tense, as his hands gripped her forearms in an allusive hold. "Stop fighting, Granger... Unless you want something horrific to happen. You can't fight me."
Hermione gasped and froze at his words. Was he serious? Thinking on it now, she didn't care. She was smarter, braver, and knew which side she stood for. As each idea floated through her mind, Hermione gathered her strength and courage and let loose with everything she possessed.
Still it wasn't enough.
Draco became furious, repeatedly slamming her back into the shelves.
The pain was excruciating. Hermione knew all to well that many bruises would result from this heinous assault, and there was only one hope left.
Draco watched through brazen eyes as the witch before him fought one hand free and began to reach for her pocket. He smirked, proceeding to laugh so darkly that it gave Hermione chills. "What are you reaching for, Granger?" the glee still strong on his lips.
Again chills of terror surged through her as she searched her right pocket. Nothing, How had he noticed this if she had not?
"Your wand is on the table where you so foolishly left it, Mudblood." He saw the panic rise in those big brown eyes of hers. "Do you really think I would take an unnecessary chance like this if I'd have known your wand was equipped at your side. I'm not stupid, Granger."
I hate it when you lie.
Hermione's head was reeling. What on Earth was she to do now? Malfoy had assumed and accumulated power over her, and it seemed as if there was no way out.
"There is nothing that I would love to do more then dig you a grave. You're such a waste of skin and bone, why would any one want... or need you around? You're a walking disease, and are better off dead!"
His words were harsh, But there was something about them that was insincere; "You don't mean that, I can tell." way to harsh for the look that should have reflected deep within his eyes. There was something in his steely orbs that told Hermione different, that there was little to no true in the statement. "You're lying, Malfoy."
For a moment Draco was speechless. He knew his eyes were betraying him. All the sorrow and indifference he felt... There was no other outlet then that of tormenting Hermione Granger. It cured him , if only for a seconds time, as if it was the only way to interact with the one true thing he had always longed for yet could never have... her.
She knew him well, but something was going on behind his eyes of such intensity that even the Know-It-All, herself, couldn't read it any longer. A fierce internal battle.
I hate it when you make me laugh,
Without so much as a word; Malfoy slowly loosened his restraining hold on Hermione. He was lost in his own mind, no door to the outside. Closing his eyes he spoke the few words he had always hated to think about. "Go. Go back to your precious Weasley." Letting her loose altogether, Draco was surprised to find that she would not leave.
"Malfoy, I've told you time and time again that Ron and I will never be anything. Truly, I do fancy him, yet I know he feels different." She couldn't explain how they had gone from a potentially deadly fight to spilling heartfelt secrets, but they had.
"So you love him then... Weasley?"
She hesitantly nodded, blushing like crazy.
"Even if he is a ginger-haired was who's afraid of something as small as a spider, and who's voice cracks like an old record whenever his fear shows through... which is pretty much always?" Draco spoke in one haled breath, trying to muster up his best confident expression.
Despite herself, Hermione shrugged and smiled, letting a giggle slide past her parched lips. "Yes, I suppose I do, even with the downsides." She looked down to her palms, which were folded around one another, reminiscing on all the innocent good times she shared with Ron.
Draco searched her face as she slowly smiled to herself. Seeing her this way was like a knife to the heart. He knew that smile was not for him, he would never have that. Letting out a growl he tore his eyes away from the thought-consumed witch. The blond began to pace, running his hands through his tossed hair. As fast as lightning his hand flew to the windowsill at his immediate left. He seized a vase that sat atop the ledge and, with all the fury in his body, hurled it across the room with another ferocious growl, watching as, against the wall, it shattered to pieces just like his heart. How could he let himself get so deep?
even worse when you make me cry.
Hermione jumped in shock, lifting her head to study the distressed blond. There was just too much about the Slytherin Prince to be able to note.
Draco paces inflated as he stomped around the book-laden room. "So even he can see your true colors." A smirk bloomed across his face as he saw confusion set in Hermione's. "Even he can see that you aren't good enough for him... a lowly scorned Weasel."
Hermione gasped indignantly. I pang of hurt began to build inside her as she registered what it was that Malfoy was insinuating.
"I bet he thinks you're as horrid and trashy as I do. How could he not, a girl as indecisive as you... Even if you are a mudblood, some people could probably manage around that to see who you truly are." Draco pondered for a second before exhaling in mock pity. "Even if they did, if they tried to get past your sickening blood, the person underneath is an old, withered hag that can't accept an outcome if it's not the way she planned." His words were bitter and poisonous.
Hermione's gaze dropped to the floor as tears began to brim in her formerly bright cinnamon eyes. She knew he was, for his part, spot on. She knew that she wasn't the most exciting female to ever want a boy's attention, yet she could see how Ron would never want a book-loving, school-addicted, fuzzy-haired witch as his other half. They didn't go together. She knew that Draco was right about her tendency to be a control freak as well. She found it unacceptable for Ron to not fancy her... just unheard of. She had tried and tried to gain his affection, until the day he couldn't stand it any longer.
He had blown up at her, telling her that he only saw her as a friend, and that his point of view would never change. She had never really let it all sink in and register until that very moment. Oh how right Malfoy was in all this treachery.
Tears exploded from her hazy dark eyes as she took every word and thought to heart. With one last pitifully hurt glance at Malfoy through watery eyes, Hermione threw her hands to her face as she began to tremor with sobs, and ran. She ran from the bookshelves that held her one true friend, knowledge. She ran from the pain and bruises inflicted and tattooed on her body. She ran from the cause of it all. She ran from Draco Malfoy.
I hate it when you're not around;
It had been hours since the altercation with the tempestuous blond and Hermione still could feel her body's exhaustion from such a fit of crying as had just washed over her and the bruises forming ugly along her back. With her emotional hurt and physical pain branded on her skin and mind the hours seemed to turn into day's right before her.
The loneliness was even more unbearable as Hermione sit solo in her room within the Head dorm, not daring to step a foot outward in case of a chance encounter with the insufferable bloke that had started most of her trouble. On the other hand, she was unable to bring herself to seek the help and guidance of Ron or Harry for fear of coming face to face with Ron and the dead feelings he had towards the two of them ever coupling.
However, there was something at the nape of her mind that nagged as if she was missing something... missing a bigger picture? The nagging persisted though she tried to push it away as odd tendencies began to sneak up on her.
Every time an insult was within earshot Hermione's heart seemed to jump to her throat. She would catch herself watching for the slightest glimpse of platinum as she journeyed the corridors, facing the Slytherin tables during meals, and sitting off in the stands during Quidditch... that was a big former to-don't on the intellectually stimulated girls list. But even with all the unconscious work, Hermione never came to view what she was looking for.
Over the next days, Hermione began to slowly make peace with the fact that Ron did not share mutual feelings with her, and slowly they started to rebuild their close-knit friendship realizing that her spark for him had faded substantially.
Something was not right.
As the deep cinnamon of Hermione's eyes swirled with thought late one night the answer hit her. She missed the insults directed only at her. She missed the steel gray eyes that pierced her bloody. She missed the power the she felt whenever she would fight back, and the aura about him.
No...
Hermione Granger actually missed the absence of Draco Malfoy, the most ruthless, notorious, soul-sucking boy in Hogwarts.
and the fact that you won't come to call.
With that officially stated to her, Hermione's head was pounding. Now that she had found the source of her discomfort and altered indifference, she couldn't stop thinking about it. Yet why wasn't he ever around?
The Gryffindor girl had not laid eyes on the Slytherin Prince in just under a fortnight. Where was he? There had been no noise or livelihood within the common room for days... ever since the encounter in the library. Did he feel a longing to see her as she did for him? Surely not or else she would have spotted or detected him by now.
The more she dwelled the more she obsessed and the more she obsessed the worse she wanted to just see him, if only for a moment with a scowl or a smirk... no matter.
Suddenly there was a thump from beyond Hermione's door.
Sound.
Draco.
With a great leap, the young witch had practically flown flustered to the door, swinging it wide with no plan of action in mind. Her light eyes fell dim once more as she realized only too late that her fat, flat-faced tabby cat, Crookshanks, had leaped without grace from her stairwell banister to the hard floor with an unflattering thump. Letting the cat pass into her domain, Hermione sighed and shut the door.
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you,
As more countless time went by, following the letdown induced by her cat, Hermione became restless and agitated. Slipping from the cushions of her bed, she threw on her housecoat non-nonchalantly; adding slippers and a hair tie to the works.
It was late, well past curfew, but now being in seventh year with less then a month left in term the novelty of the whole idea had dimmed quite greatly. Stepping one foot in front of the other, Hermione's feet seemed to just carry her where they felt. The led her down to the Great Hall, up to the Astronomy Tower, and over to the Owlery.
It was no use. The thoughts and cravings that were overcome and dominated by Malfoy began to drive her wild. Exhausted tears began to flow free from her dark eyes, leaving streams down her moonlit face. Outstretching her fist, Hermione hammered her knuckles into the nearest stone wall as hard as she could manage. The pain was something terrible, with blood dripping from the wounds, but she welcomed it... Anything to get her mind away from her damning thoughts.
Only for a seconds time was she relieved from her pondering ways. Tears still flowing, Hermione looked out through a dirty window to her side. How small she felt; how insignificant in the big picture. She felt unwanted and unimportant, dared by her minds path to feel bad for how she thought.
She didn't hate him. Never would she again. She was the apple and he was the poison.
It was all too much. In a burst of sobs, Hermione ran again. Up and down hallways, in and out of doors; eventually she had lost track of where she was headed yet kept on running as if to burn off the hurt and anger that had half-falsely built inside her.
not even close,
Finally, after what seemed like a godly fit of energy, Hermione came down from her high and crashed against a nearby classroom door, breathing hard. Wiping the sweat, blood and tears from her body, she took in her surroundings, realizing that she was unfamiliar with where she stood.
Just as she had regained her composure, there came a sound from nearby.
'Filch!' was the first thought that came to her mind, and just before spinning on her heels to sprint off again something platinum caught her eye. This was not Filch; this was bigger then Filch. There, lounging half-heartedly on a large windowsill was Draco.
Against her better judgment Hermione approached the handsome Slytherin. As she neared, Draco became aware that he was no longer alone.
Snapping his hard eyes in the direction of sound, they softened unconsciously as they fell upon the girl now shinning in the moonlight.
He didn't hate her; she didn't hate him. It was an agreement set in stone at that moment; each could tell by the other's eyes.
not even a little bit,
As Hermione advanced, her courage began to grow. The low esteem she had lived with for the past two weeks was gradually floating from her body, just from the way he was looking at her.
Taking a small breath to calm her, the wild-haired witch set herself at his side where he had moved his feet to make room.
They just looked at each other, the words would not come easily to either given their long past of relentless torture towards one another. Hermione closed her eyes tight, exhaled as one last tear fell, and was the first to break the silence.
"I'm sorry." It was simple yet it summed up the past seven years beautifully.
Draco steely orbs swirled with wonder and confusion at her bravery, nodding in agreement that he was sorry as well. He now felt terrible for avoiding her like the plague the last few weeks, for dodging how that day in the library really made him feel, and for all of the things he had ever done to this strong-willed Gryffindor Princess.
Outstretching his palm he cupped her face and brushed the lonesome tear away with his thumb.
not even at all.
Hermione could see the emotions flooding through his features. There was hurt, amazement, regret, and... care?
It was too much for Draco to let her see. He screwed up, and now he would have to live without what he wanted most. Removing his hand from her soft cheek, Draco thoughts began to drive him from reality, deeper and deeper into the abyss until a soft hand mirrored his previous action and lightly landed upon his cheek, bringing him back in a shock wave.
Hermione had seen his dismay and had reached out with instinct. Her fingers softly brushed Malfoy cheek, turning his attention back on her. Lazily her fingers proceeded to line the muscles of his jaw, finishing when they held his chin up softly forcing eye contact. That was all it took.
Cinnamon swirled with steel as her lips met his in a daring and electrifying kiss. Seized by temptation, Draco responded immediately, nipping at her lower lip, asking permission. Hermione obliged, parting her lips so that their tongues met.
The passion was illuminating, unlike any kiss either had ever experienced. Fire lit in both of them and they knew that the hate game between them would continue, though it would never be the same.
Parting for breath, Hermione could see the storm in his eyes, knowing that she was the one that started it all.
Draco growled as he felt her power radiate over him like a title wave.
Leaning back down from her position now atop him, the brown-eyed girl captured his lips once more, yet only for mere seconds. Breathing labored, and heartbeat erratic, Hermione balled her uncut fist and pounded softly and half-heartedly on his chest before removing herself from the tangled web of hot limbs to sit up and face him with deep, soulful eyes.
"I hate you..." She could barely get it out with all of the other emotions swelling up in her body, trying to escape.
"I hate... the way I think I love you."
With one last glance, Hermione gently pushed off from the windowsill and ventured away into the darkness leaving Draco Malfoy more intrigued then ever.