Of Mishaps and Malfoy
"Really Ronald, it's quite simple. If you had actually taken the time to jot a few notes in class, we wouldn't be having this discussion," Hermione admonished, hastening her steps into the potions classroom. She headed for the first desk, eager to alleviate her arms of the cumbersome stack of books.
"But Hermioneee…" Ron whined, shuffling behind her as Harry half-heartedly trailed after them. "I need your help - just this once. Let me borrow your notes, and I'll give them right back! For an hour, tops."
Growing increasingly more agitated with his whining, Hermione shot a glare in his direction before turning her attention back to her work station. "For the last time Ron. No. I won't do all the work for every class, just so you can choose not to pay attention," she quipped, taking time to further organize her items on the desk. It seemed that day after day she was picking up more of Ron's slack and she had just about reached her breaking point. This time, she determined, would be different.
Ron pouted, a look that she had once found endearing but now found irritating. He clearly wasn't picking up on her cues. "You never-"
"That's enough Ronald!" she exclaimed, flopping into her seat dejectedly.
"Oh my… Trouble in paradise for the Golden Trio?" a haughty voice came from behind Ron and Harry.
Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed Ron's sleeve, tugging him toward the only available table a few rows back from Hermione. "Oh, lay off Malfoy. Come on Ron."
Draco smirked at their retreating backs, though his smile fell almost immediately. Hermione followed his line of sight and saw that Crabbe and Goyle had paired up at the farthest table. His frown deepened as Theodore slid in next to Blaise. Her eyes glanced around the room and she groaned. "Great," she muttered under her breath as she realized the predicament they were now facing. Draco stood rigidly next to her seat, glancing down at Hermione with no noticeable expression on his face. Clearing his throat, he wordlessly urged her to scoot over. Rubbing the bridge of her nose before sighing, Hermione slid from her aisle seat to the one closest to the stone wall of the classroom, keeping her eyes downcast to her books on the desk. The attempt to keep a grasp on her last nerve of the day was quickly waning. Casting a quick Tempus, she felt a her head throb as she read 10:58 a.m. If this was how today was going to go, Hermione regretted her decision to get out of bed this morning.
The door slammed open as Professor Snape glided into the classroom, seemingly oblivious - or indifferent - to the glaring tension between his students.
Reaching the front of the room, he began his condescending speech of the day. "While emphasis is placed on the importance of following instructions every class, I feel as though some students may need me to reaffirm this point before beginning this next potion," Professor Snape flatly stated, staring blatantly at Neville Longbottom. "Much as I do every time we meet. Perhaps today will be a first - Dare I ask for two hours with no major malfunctions?"
Hermione's eyes began to glaze over at the professor's droning voice - a dangerous habit she worried was becoming more frequent as her workload increased and her spats with Ronald became nastier with each word exchanged.
Drawn back into the present by the sound of chairs scraping stone and scuffling footsteps, she noticed students were gathering different items throughout the classroom. Draco was staring at her once again, an indifferent expression upon his face. Glancing up at the board she quickly took in Compellere Liquidus, page 467 in Professor Snape's familiar scrawl.
'Well…Com…to drive…pellere…. together….and Liquidius…obviously liquid…simple enough…." Hermione flipped through to the appropriate page in her book, all the while feeling Draco's eyes boring into her.
"What?" she blurted, feeling a heat rise in her cheeks.
"Nothing," Draco murmured standing, raising one eyebrow curiously. "I'll collect the necessary ingredients, if you'd be so kind as to retrieve a silver cauldron."
Making quick work of their tasks, the two worked together in silence, carefully reading the directions. They took turns adding ingredients and stirring at the appropriate time, each lost in their own thoughts.
Hermione's attention was slowly drawn to whispers behind her. Listening astutely, she could make out two familiar, particularly loud voices.
"I'm telling you Harry, she is absolutely mental. You would've thought I-
"Shh Ron! She'll hear you!" Harry hissed, his attempt at being subtle lost as she made out his words with ease.
Ron persisted, dropping the volume of his voice minutely. "We've done so much for her. If it weren't for us, she wouldn't have any friends. She's a nightmare, really—"
Hermione whipped around, her own voice a high-pitched screech. "Ronald Weasley, I have had enough!"
"Hermione, don't make a scene," his eyes darted around the room, landing on a few of their peers who had stopped working to watch the events unfolding.
BANG!
Professor Snape was in front of Hermione and Draco's desk in mere seconds, a scowl on his face, wand at the ready. He had placed a Containment Charm around what would've been an vile explosion of ominous purple sludge. After vanishing the half-finished potion, he barked "25 points from Gryffindor, for an obvious misdirection of attention! Had I allowed this potion to react to the indifferent neglect, Miss. Granger, I think you would've found the result to be quite…unpleasant," he sneered, his vision shifting from Hermione to Draco. "Class dismissed…except for the both of you."
"But I didn't do anything Professor," Ron bemoaned from the back of the class.
Snape looked at Ron with obvious distaste. "Not you, Mr. Weasley. But thank you for the reminder - 15 points from Gryffindor for distracting classmates during a serious assignment. I expect two feet of parchment by next class on why you should respect the delicate nature of potions. Now everyone out."
Ron huffed as he followed Harry and the other Gryffindors out of the classroom. Hermione stared dejectedly down at her hands as she wrung them anxiously.. Draco shifted, leaning against the desk behind him as he crossed his arms and frowned.
As the door closed, Professor Snape returned his attention to the two students before him, his pinched brow relaxing slightly. "I expected better from you Miss Granger. Moreso from you Mr. Malfoy. Given the involvement of a distracting third party I will allow you both to rebrew this potion. But be mindful, I will NOT be doing this again. The top students should be producing expertly produced potions, not getting easily distracted by such nonsense. You have one hour," Professor Snape directed before striding out the doors to the classroom.
An awkward silence filled the empty classroom as both students stood, unsure what to do in that very moment.
Hermione swallowed hard, avoiding her counterpart's eyes. Shame flooded her; she'd failed not only herself, but her partner. Malfoy or not, he deserved better than to have her distracted to the point of ruining assignments. "Look Malfoy…I'm sorry I-"
"Don't," Draco interrupted, putting his hand up to silence her. "Weasley is an idiot. You shouldn't let him get to you like that."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Are-are you being…nice? To me?"
"Don't read too much into this Granger. I'm just stating a fact," Draco sneered before slipping down the aisle to the ingredients cupboard.
Shaking her head, Hermione moved to the shelf where she retrieved a fresh cauldron and they fell into their previous brewing pattern.
Chop.
Splash.
Stir.
Crunch.
Splash.
Stir.
Repeat.
Her thoughts drifted to her redheaded best friend. She was fed up with him using her. And the things he had said about her. "He's always like that you know," she blurted aloud. "And it's just so frustrating! You'd think, just once, I'd be appreciated or…or…" Draco silently continued adding ingredients and whether he was listening or not she was unsure, but she continued. "Just this once, I want someone - anyone - to appreciate what I've done, what I can do," Hermione ended with a shout, stomping her foot for emphasis at the end.
Draco didn't respond as he tossed crushed lacewing flies into the cauldron. She could feel the embarrassment welling once more as she let her eyes trace over his face, looking for a twitch or a grimace or anything to indicate whether he'd even heard what she said. 'He must think I'm mental.'
Hermione may have feigned obliviousness in regards to the opposite sex to circumvent the aggressive prying by the girls of Gryffindor tower, but she was no longer ignorant to the "right of passage" that was sex. She'd ventured, somewhat innocently, into the world of adult novels; occasionally snogged a boy or two during her summers at home; and, most recently, had given herself completely to Viktor Krum after the Yule ball. She took in his gently furrowed brow as he added a teaspoon of golden substance to the cauldron. 'Honey,' her mind supplied before he turned to face her.
"Granger, it's absolute rubbish that he makes you- Wait!"
The concerned look on his face was momentarily distracting - a moment too long, however. She added the final ingredient, failing to wait the required three minutes after the honey was added. "Fuck!" Hermione exclaimed as steaming hot potion splashed up onto her wrist.
Draco hastily grabbed her wrist, dragging her over to the nearest sink. With a flick of his wand, cold water ran out of the faucet and he shoved her wrist under it. "What in Merlin's name is wrong with you?" Draco quietly demanded, examining her wrist for further developing injury.
Hermione stared, dazed and distracted, at where he delicately held her hand and forearm to better examine her wrist. A liquid heat begin to roll from the burn on her arm, up and over her shoulders and then draped over her body like a second skin. Slight pressure began to build in her lower stomach, a heat from just below the band of her skirt that increased at an incredible speed. Unsure of what to do or say, she subtly rubbed her thighs together to alleviate the pressure.
"You need to be more careful," Draco breathed from his position beside her. Electricity ran down her spine as she held in a gasp, the heat from his mouth licking sinfully over the edge of her ear.
"Draco," Hermione moaned, unable to voice what was happening. She felt as though all of her nerves were firing at once, like he was touching her everywhere, just from an innocent caress over the pulsepoint in her -
"Wait, Draco, Wait!" Hermione moaned. "My wrist; the potion, you've been exposed!"
His eyes fluttered down, dazed, at where he had been absently massaging the potion on her arm, skin-on-skin.
Their lips began to gravitate to each other and, as their eyes drifted shut, met with the gently wisp of their tongues. Draco slid his hand around her back as he gently turned her, her hands sliding up his chest, fingers intertwining with the hair at the nape of his neck. Their mouths danced with each other; lips, teeth, and tongue caressing and pushing as though choreographed. Draco's hands slid down Hermione's back and sides, pressing her against him, before grasping her arse by the handful. With little effort, he lifted her up and gently laid her across the table behind them.
As he removed his tie, his lips traveled away from her mouth and over the soft curve of her jaw, traveling from behind her ear to her neck. He lapped, sucked, and nipped as she softly moaned, arching her back and allowing one hand to caress her own body in an attempt to smother the scorching flame of arousal. She noticed when his long fingers deftly began to unbutton her shirt, sliding button to button at a steady, well-rehearsed speed. When she felt the flame of Fiendfyre lick at her bare skin, she realized he had taken off his shirt and it was his flesh searing hers.
He draped himself over, his arms on either side of her head as his hips shifted forward with a slow, sensual dip. Her hands grappled for purchase she tried to find somewhere to grasp, any way to pull him closer, anything to cap the heat. A moan pushed its way from her core, up and out of her mouth as he continued to grind his clothed hips against her. She lifted her legs and circled them around his hips, her skirt bunching around her own. His hands slid down over her thighs, prying them apart gently as his mouth moved down to her chest, her skin burning in his wake. He quickly began undoing his belt, dragon hide shifting from loop to loop before he slid it away with one long pull.
Dropping it somewhere beside them, the buckle clanked against the stone floor. His mouth enveloped one of her nipples as she threw her head back and gasped. When he felt as though one side had been lavished sufficiently, he allowed himself to switch to the other side. The gradual increase of burning compulsion pulled them deeper into the haze of their lust.
The fog that had settled in her brain seemed similar to everything she had read about the Imperius Curse. Deep in the recesses of her mind, she knew what she was doing was all wrong, who she was doing this with was all wrong. But she was drawn to Draco, like a moth to flame. He seemed to be having the same internal battle between knowing the implications of their actions and not giving a damn about the consequences. Pulling away with a slight intake of breath, Draco shifted up then lowered his lips to her ear. "Hermione. Hermione… Tell me stop…Beg me to quit and I will. Just tell me and I'll try-"
"No," Hermione panted, aghast that he should even suggest such an action. "Don't. Please don't stop - don't leave me like this!I can't….I won't…."
"Dividere!"
Draco and Hermione flew apart, landing with gentle thumps on opposite sides of the classroom. Temporarily distracted, they glanced to where the voice had bellowed from, taking in the sight of Professor Snape. His face was screwed into the picture of discomfort and anger.
"Get dressed - quickly. We need to get to the Hospital Wing immediately. And do keep your hands to yourselves. I will not hesitate to petrify you both, if necessary."
Hermione tore her eyes away from the Potions professor to look back at Draco. The predatory stare he fixed on her, one laden with sinful promise - sent a shiver down her spine as she watched him pull his belt through the loops. Snape was standing between them, his wand in hand, seemingly trying to determine whether the pair would pounce on one another again.
As he pushed the students out of the class and down the hallway, the tension between the two was palpable. If Snape hadn't come in when he did they would've-
No matter. Surely Madam Pomfrey could cure them of this ailment…
Author's Note: To my beloved Beta, TheMourningMadam- thank you for everything; you've helped me get started doing something I love and have been wanting to do for quite some time. Here's to our growing friendship!