She held his gaze more fiercely than she held his hand. She pulled him through the crowded corridor, never breaking eye contact.
He felt self conscious and uncertain, a rarity for him. Did people in the crowd notice they were holding hands? That she was almost dragging him?
If anyone noticed no one commented, and for that he was grateful. Grateful. Another rarity.
If this got back to the other Slytherins, to Pansy, he would never hear the end of it.
At least, not until he pulled up his left sleeve. Bragging was one thing, but if he had to resort to showing proof, he might as well shout the news down the hallway and announce his true allegiance to the whole school.
He glared at her, but she wouldn't back down. Not one bit. It was unnerving, the way she stared. Her bushy brown hair bounced urgently on her shoulders and she navigated the halls expertly. He took notice briefly of her gleaming curls and unfearing eyes before picturing his girlfriend's smooth skin and pointed sneer. She was worthy of him, a pureblood, and nothing less.
Nothing more either, he thought.
And yet he was still allowing this insult to the wizarding world, this Mudblood, to lead him down the halls. He could easily stop and push her away. Throw her to the ground in front of everyone. Be above her once again.
Her eyes became slits, and for a split second he believed she had heard his thoughts. Had she known what he had just called her in his own head? Not that it should be a surprise; he called her that as often as they saw each other in the halls or in class.
Her eyes widened back to its normal, beautiful shape and he saw just how much intellect was held there in her chocolate eyes. He also saw a fleck of mischievousness. How odd. Out of her friends, no one would call her the troublemaker. More like the bookworm, the killjoy, the tag-along. He chuckled to himself and shook his head slightly. Then his face became a mask once more, though he was still being pulled through the halls.
As she stared at him, she could see the wheels turning in his head, a little slow, a little confused, but turning nonetheless.
He stared back, unwilling to back down, she was almost impressed. Until she saw him absentmindedly mouth the word. "Mudblood." She narrowed her eyes and she was happy to see the slightest glimmer of shock registered in his own grey ones. He obviously didn't know he had done it. It felt good to have that over him. The ability to shock Draco, at least visibly, was rare. She felt a splash of accomplishment at that, but also felt as though she would soon drown in self doubt.
Why had this seemed like such a good idea earlier?
She had sat in Potions, with Harry and Ron, trying to get as much work done as possible before someone spilled anything acidic on the floor, or even more challenging, before Snape took points from Gryffindor. Malfoy sat with Crabbe and Goyle, looking like a self satisfied prat when their gazes accidentally crossed. She had felt his eyes like laser beams. Hot, no, scorching. She saw his eyes darken and him bite the corner of his mouth without thought.
That look was not nearly as attractive when Ron did it…
Pansy sat one table away, and while Malfoy's eyes had been lasers, Pansy's had been daggers. Hermione saw her blatant jealousy and rose to the occasion. She lifted her hand into her hair and grabbed onto the back of her scalp, slowing tilting her head back and then slowly sliding her hand down her exposed neck.
Harry had simply raised an eyebrow, while Ron seemed unaware that his jaw had become unhinged. She smirked at her parchment as she noted that Pansy was seething while Malfoy looked like he might burst into flame.
Emboldened by this response, she planned.
Now, she finally found the corridor she was looking for. Empty. She let go of a bewildered Draco, only a little confident that his curiosity would outweigh his instinct to leave. As she hoped, he stopped and stared, seemingly baffled as to the significance of this particular hallway. Now she was free to walk back and forth three times in front of the dancing trolls. If he was baffled before, see now seemed downright confunuded.
What to ask…what to ask…
She had thought through this before, but now in this moment, finding the correct phrase never seemed so important.
We need someplace private?
No, the room itself is private.
We need someplace warm?
No, you never knew where that could land you. How about…
"We need someplace comfortable."
Draco, eyes wide in alarm, watched Hermione walk back and forth.
Had she discovered him? Did she know where he had been sneaking off to? What he was doing when he snuck off? He felt himself pale, but with his complexion, it was sometimes hard for others to see the difference. He hoped she couldn't see his nervousness.
He was so busy with his thoughts that he barely registered the door appearing in the middle of the wall. She stepped though and pulled his arm so that once again he, only half unwillingly, followed. He stopped in his tracks and stared, amazed.
He had been through this door many times that year. He had a project that could only be completed in this very room. But that room was not this room. That room had never looked like this one. The ground was soft and spongy, almost like his bed in Slytherin dorms. He saw that pillows covered almost every surface and there were various pieces of furniture in the small, soft room. If Pansy knew where he was...and with whom...he shook his head.
Mudblood, reminded himself. Filthy Mudblood. Granger is a filthy Mudblood. He wrinkled his nose as though inhaling a foul stench.
She looked into his face. He looked both confused and excited. He seemed at war with himself, and she was determined to help him fight it. She stepped towards him, but he did not notice, still deep in thought. He did notice, however, when he was pinned to one of the surprisingly soft walls.
He felt himself lock up, too shocked to move. She was not stronger than him. To could easily throw her off. Yet, every inch of him was frozen and he was starting to wonder if she'd placed a body bind.
Her hands found the hem of his shirt and caressed his hard stomach. He shuddered under her fingertips and panic flashed in his eyes before lust filled his features.
As he moved under her touch he found he was not trapped, at least not physically.
He grabbed her shoulders and swung to the side, pinning her to the wall that he had just vacated. Her eyes widened in surprise, her mouth open, poised for a gasp, but he cut her off.
In that moment he took her mouth in his own. She moaned and went limp between his hard body and the wall. She moaned and shuddered as he hardened and deepened the kiss. It was almost painful, his teeth scraped hers and he forced her mouth open.
She had never been kissed that way before. It was incredible.
Suddenly, he tore his mouth away and aimed his piercing eyes into hers. "You're filthy, Granger," he said, his voice deep and husky. She was frightened and tried to catch her breath. Then she noticed his eyes flicker to the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed heavily. "Only to you," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
His eyes returned to hers, a smirk starting to show.
Then, without warning, she slapped him.
He swore as he staggered backwards reaching his hand to face, now red from the impact. She snickered, eyes dark, the mischievous glint back in full force. He stood up and walked towards her, every ounce of him oozing with determination.
She loved to mess with him, that he knew. As he came at her again she shoved him hard in the stomach.
This time, he fell back hard. He grunted in indignation as he hit the floor, but before he could bring himself to his feet, Hermione knelt down to him. Slowly, she put on leg on either side of his. He froze as she put her arms around his neck and reached for his lips with her own.
She was stronger than he had thought, but he was still superior.
Draco sprung into action and once again flipped her, this time onto her back. Her squeals turned to gasps as he peppered her neck and chest with kisses. He reached for the hem of her shirt and ripped it over her head. He continued the train of kisses further down to her navel and waistline of her jeans. She moaned with impatience and pleasure as he tickled her hip bone with his tongue. That forked tongue that had done countless damages to her self worth in six years was now doing more damage to her body in under six seconds.
His mind screamed for him to stop, just to stop touching her, but his body didn't comply.
"You're vile," he said into her stomach. She didn't care as long as he didn't stop.
"I'm against everything you stand for," she said between gasps.
He smiled into her belly button; he brought his face level with hers and said seriously, "All Mudbloods are disgusting. They are beneath me. You are beneath me."
While she was at that moment, literally beneath him, she simply said, "Then it must be torture to want me."
Such a simple sentence, yet it ricocheted through him like a rebounded spell.
He could think of nothing to say, and instead responded by kissing her with a passion that had never existed anywhere else, the pressure mounting inside both of them equally.
For quite some time they lay tangled in each others limbs, breathing heavily.
He did not need her, but wanted her. He did not love her, but lusted after her.
She was smart, she was challenging, and she hated him just as much as he hated her.
That was all the passion either of them would need. The fire between them had an unlimited amount of fuel, insults and hexes.
He thought of the war that would soon be upon them. When the battle came to Hogwarts, would she survive? He surely would, he was on the right side, the winning side. She was smart, and that disgusting Potter and traitor ginger would surely protect her. That knowledge calmed his stirring mind.
They left separately.
Finding themselves together in Potions again, they glanced at each other no more than necessary. Pansy seemed to have calmed down; though she made it clear she was not forgetful, staring back and forth between Draco and Hermione whenever either of them looked up.
Once class was finished, everyone stood up to leave. As Harry, Ron and Hermione started walking; she bumped into Draco so hard that Harry thought for a second that it might have been on purpose. Rather than acknowledging the slight, she kept walking.
Just as they made it to the door, there was a shout.
"You'll pay for that, you dirty little Mudblood!"
Draco pulled out his wand, but Harry and Ron were faster. They already had their wands pointed to his chest, and had pushed Hermione behind them, out of Draco's, or harms, way. He gave a low chuckle, thinking he had been right that she didn't need his protection as long as she had theirs. With that thought he yelled, "Are you always such a coward, Granger? You disgusting piece of filth! Meet me at twelve thirty and face me yourself!"
She recognized an invitation when she heard one.
Both Harry and Ron yelled "No!" the same time that Hermione shouted "Fine!"
"You'll be the one who pays, Malfoy. You're not so brave yourself, trying to hex someone in the back!"
Harry was stunned and Ron looked at her with both admiration and affection.
Pansy ran over to her beloved Draco and announced how she would love to watch him defeat such an "uppity little Mudblood." There were shouts of agreement from the rest of the Slytherins when Malfoy suddenly said, "No," his shoulders pushed straight and back, eyes staring fiercely into hers while he addressed his fellow Slytherins.
The crowd quieted and Pansy looked disappointed. "No," he said again, more forceful this time, "We don't want wee little Granger to think I can't handle her on my own. You know where to find me, you vile creature." With a glance to Harry and Ron he said, "Remember to call off your guard dogs and come alone, won't you?" He sneered and turned on his heel, walking away with a devoted Pansy on his arm.
Her gaze never wavered from Malfoy as he walked away, her eyes slowly burning holes into his back. After several pats on the back and are-you-sure you're-okay's, Hermione made it to Gryffindor Tower. Harry and Ron were trying desperately to change her mind about going.
"He plays dirty."
"Yeah, he'll definitely come with Crabbe and Goyle, or some kind of back up!"
"No," she said. "I can do this alone. I don't want him to think I am afraid of him. I can handle this, guys. Please trust me. I won't be too long and I'll send a patronus or something if I need you." That seemed to pacify them.
She knew she wouldn't need them though; she already proved she could knock him around a little…
That boy infuriated her, and he would pay later. But then, so would she. She smirked. She definitely did not love him, but oh, how she loved to hate him.
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