Hi everyone! This is yet another new fic that I have just written. It's another Harry Potter fic, this time solely focused on the romance...and irritation!...between Hermione and Malfoy. This is a one-shot fic with a slightly different writing technique to what I've written so far, and I decided to write it because I suddenly had this great idea for a one-shot last week. I'm sorry to my usual readers who have been looking forward to more chapters from my other two stories, but don't worry, I'm busy working on those ones too, and I hope to have more chapters posted on those ones by the weekend, but in the meantime, read this and enjoy! And I'm sorry again for the delay with my other stories, but I'm searching for ideas and inspiration at the moment and I'm sure you would all much prefer a well-written, yet slightly late story to a rushed, yet on time story.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except 60 cents, so don't sue me! And if I did own the Harry Potter series, I would make Malfoy and Hermione be together!!...Or even Malfoy and me!! He's hot lol! Oh well, I can dream... And now, here's the story!
Even In My Dreams You Haunt Me
Hermione Granger was perfect, perfect in every way, from the tips of her now perfectly straight, honey-brown hair right down to her dainty, neat feet. There was no other way to describe her. And, despite Malfoy's resistance, he had noticed. How could he not? She was devastatingly beautiful, incredibly smart, witty and had a temper to match his own, which was masked by her cool, elegant demeanour, just he, too, wore his cool, calm façade over him like a cloak. He jealously guarded his private emotions, never let anyone into his heart of ice and granite, determined to stay aloof and distant, only communicating with people to use them towards his own selfish ends. To him, he had no friends, no family, and no peers. Only pawns to use and discard in his own game of survival and power.
The Mudblood that he had mercilessly teased for six long years had now become a source of both fascination and irritation for him. He was curious to learn things about her, mark her as his own, like he had made his claim on every other girl in the year level. Yet he was repulsed by his sudden flaming desire, rejected the dirty blood that flowed freely through her veins. She was lower than him, lower than dirt; yet somehow, she continued to taunt him, tease him, tempt him, even in his dreams. It frustrated the Slytherin Ice Prince that, for once, he could not have exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it. His desire for the readaholic girl utterly repulsed and disgusted him, yet was unbearable and overwhelming. His body screamed with the need to hold her, talk to her, kiss her, and yet he could not.
Malfoy couldn't even use her to satisfy his needs; no, she was not gullible like the others had been, she knew better than to trust him and become yet another one of his flings, his one night stands. That, and the fact that she despised him, meant that she was unattainable; a possession he could only dream of, and never have. There was, of course, also the fact that she was so - so - abnormal that she couldn't even see his perfectly sculptured, handsome features and act like a real girl for once and actually be attracted to a male.
Malfoy slammed his fist upon the table, earning himself a nasty glare from Madam Pince, the librarian. He scowled darkly; after all, who was she to scold him for his actions? It wasn't even his fault! It was the fault of that ridiculous, ugly Mudblood, Granger. He hated to admit it, but it was almost painful to call her ugly, when he knew for a fact that she was now one of the prettiest girls in the school, rivalling even Parvati and Pansy. Sneering at the other students in the library, he snatched up his Potions essay and stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him, leaving behind an enraged Madam Pince and several utterly terrified students.
Hermione sighed and absently ran a hand through her brown, glossy hair. She grabbed a strand and pulled it in front of her face, examining it with a smile. She had complained to Ginny over the holidays about her wild bush of hair, and Ginny had jumped at the chance to style Hermione's ragged hair. After enduring three hours of having Ginny poking and pulling at her hair, Hermione was pleased to see that her hair, once dull and frizzy, now shone with golden highlights and was straight, ending with light, loose curls at the bottom. Hermione was glad Ginny had decided to help her, for she had not only styled her hair into something much more manageable, but introduced Hermione to the art of make-up and clothing fashions. Although Hermione knew she would never be considered 'a beauty', she also knew that the makeover had worked a vast, dramatic change in her appearance and that she was no longer quite so plain.
Bored, she stood up and stretched her arms, yawning, before opening her bedroom door and walking into the common room she shared with Malfoy as Head Girl and Head Boy. Thankfully for her, Malfoy was rarely in their private Head dormitory, preferring to lurk in the dungeons with his own slithery kind. So far, they had agreed, on Dumbledore's insistence, to act somewhat civil to each other in public, for 'the good of the inter-house relationships', but in private, it became a fully-fledged war between the two of them. Hermione still absolutely hated the arrogant Slytherin, but for the sake of her Head Girl badge, she had learnt to tolerate his incessant bickering and sneering jibes at her.
She walked back and forth in front of the bookshelf, looking for a good, heavy volume to relieve her boredom, but couldn't seem to find any she hadn't read before at least three times. Muttering to herself, she stalked back to her bedroom, grabbed her pyjamas, and moved into the huge shared bathroom, complete with white tiles and thin blue tiles making a line near the edges, marble-topped basins with white porcelain sinks, and deep blue taps rimmed in precious white gold. She filled the bathtub with steaming water and blue bubbles with sparks shooting out of them, heaved a sigh, and slipped in it. Laying her head back, she allowed herself to relax, feeling the water lap over her peacefully. Hermione closed her eyes, silently drifting off, forgetting that she had not yet locked the bathroom door.
The portrait to the Heads' dorm swung open, and an irritated Malfoy swept inside, grumbling to himself. He glared at the red couch in the middle of the common room, enraged because it represented a certain Gryffindor who wouldn't leave his thoughts, no matter how hard he tried. He spotted the bookshelf, grabbed a copy of Hermione's precious Hogwarts: A History and hurled it at the unoffending couch. Malfoy blinked, then shook his head. 'I really need some coffee. And I need to stop trying to ruin couches...' He glanced guiltily at the other maimed red couch, which he had recently burnt with his wand after an irritating day with the Weasel and Potter annoying him. Shaking his head and wondering why on earth he felt guilty all of a sudden, he headed upstairs. 'Cold shower...need cold shower...' He swung open his door, glared at the black silk sheets on his bed and snatched up a vibrant green pillow, flinging it with all his might at the wall. He snorted. 'Oh yeah, good one Draco...try to knock a hole in your bedroom wall with a pillow, why don't you?' Feeling like an idiot and glad no one had seen him, he bent over and retrieved the pillow.
Malfoy put the pillow back on the bed and undressed, leaving only his black boxers on, and wrapped a white towel around his waist. He figured that the Mudblood wasn't there, otherwise she'd have cracked it about him slamming the door, so why not dress how he liked for his shower? He ran a hand absently through his blonde hair, letting it fall back into his eyes, as he crossed his room to the door leading to the joint Head bathroom. Malfoy opened the bathroom door and slipped through it. Sensing something amiss, he slowly turned, and his jaw dropped at the sight of Hermione in the bath, asleep. 'Oh shit.' Was his first thought. 'As if she doesn't already think I'm a pervert.' He tilted his head, peering at her form. 'Damn...she is beautiful. Pity her blood is so dirty, it ruins her appearance.' He sneered at the young girl, then his eyes glazed over as he saw her move. (AN: talk about a pervert, hey? Lol...he can't keep his eyes off any pretty girl!!!) Molten silver swirled within the depths of his eyes as he stepped closer to her.
Malfoy drew in a ragged breath as he stared at her, her red lips parting slightly as she breathed. When she shifted slightly, he groaned then knelt down beside her, cradling her head in his hands. His thumb gently swept a stray lock of hair off her face as he leaned forward, his eyes drinking in her perfect features. Hermione shifted again, then drowsily opened her eyes. She jerked in surprise at seeing Malfoy's blonde hair practically falling over her face, his eyes burning with an intensity that caused a shiver to run down her spine. 'Shit.' For the second time in five minutes, Malfoy knew he was in for it.
"Malfoy?" Hermione exclaimed. "What are you doing?" He didn't answer her, he was too busy looking at the way her lips moved when she spoke, transfixed. He absently let his thumb run over her cheek and over her lips, silencing her. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she felt his finger upon her lips. He ran his other hand through her hair, and she couldn't help but lean her head back into his grip, her breathing quickening slightly. 'What the heck.' Malfoy thought to himself. He suddenly leaned forward and captured her lips with his own.
Hermione gasped as she felt his lips crash down upon hers. She felt his smirk as he slid his tongue into her mouth, demanding that she open her mouth wider. When she fought back, trying to close her mouth, he ran his tongue along her bottom lip, then bit gently. Hermione moaned, and gave into his demands, letting his tongue ravage her mouth. Malfoy's hand slid down behind her shoulder, to her waist, and drew her up, while his other hand tangled itself in her hair and curled behind her neck. Hermione shuddered for a moment, and then her hands reached up to encircle his neck. Finally, he leant back, drawing in another ragged breath as he looked at her. Hermione's face was flushed, and she was panting. She had never been kissed like that before in her entire life, and she was almost ashamed to admit that she had liked it, even though it had been her enemy she was kissing.
Hermione looked up at his smug face, a smirk already forming as he looked at her flustered face. "Why did you just kiss me, Malfoy? You hate me, remember?"
He smirked at her. "Don't even think about complaining, Granger. I know you liked it."
Hermione glared at him, outraged. "You – "
He smoothly cut her off, amused at her indignation. "Now, now, Granger, the Head Girl shouldn't swear, you wouldn't want to tarnish your perfect record." His eyes roved over her figure appreciatively, and she gasped, realising that she was still in the bath.
Blushing madly, she hissed, "Get out, Ferret-Boy. You're disgusting." He looked at her, leaned over and swiftly kissed her once more, despite her muffled protests, and left without a backward glance. Hermione stared after him, shaken, and to her frustration and horror, she was left wanting more from him. Groaning, she slumped back, hitting her head on the edge of the bathtub. 'I actually liked him kissing me?! I'm going insane!' She sat up, looking for her towel. 'Hang on…I left it here on the floor! Oh no…' "Malfoy! Where's my – "
"Looking for this?" Malfoy interrupted as he popped his head around the door, grinning at her. He stuck his hand out, the towel in his grasp, his eyes full of mischief. She stared at him. "You can smile?" she asked incredulously.
He mockingly pouted at her. "Oh, sweetie, you should know that by now."
She glared at him, and then remembered her original complaint. "Give me my towel, Malfoy."
"What do I get out of it?"
"Hmm, how about I don't hex you all the way to hell?!"
"Nope, not good enough. Besides," he grinned smugly at her and pointed to the other side of the bathroom, "Your wand's all the way over there. The only way you can get it is to get out of the bath, though I'm not complaining if you do."
"Pervert!"
"Of course, where else did you think I got my reputation from?"
"Malfoy, I need that towel, right now!" Hermione exclaimed angrily. He shook his head. She gritted her teeth, highly embarrassed, and then said, "Please, Malfoy?"
He tilted his head, looking at her. "I'm almost inclined to give it back to you," he said, then grinned, "But not quite yet."
"Fine! What do you want, Malfoy, so that I can have my towel?"
"Good girl, I see you have finally realised it's hopeless to get a Malfoy to do anything without something in return." She glared. He moved over towards her, and put his hands on her shoulders. Hermione tried, and failed, to ignore the shivers running up and down her spine, and the way her heart thumped erratically. He smirked at her, knowing the effect he had on her, and she blushed. Suddenly, he bent over and slipped his arms around her waist and lifted her to her feet. Before she had a chance to contemplate slapping him, he pulled her close and murmured, "I want this." His lips crashed down upon hers with a frightening intensity, and Hermione stiffened for a moment, before relaxing into his chest. One hand curved around Malfoy's neck and idly played with his hair, whilst the other rested upon his chest. Hermione blushed as she realised he only had a towel slung casually around his waist, then blushed even more as she noticed that Quidditch had certainly paid off for him. He pulled back suddenly and deftly wrapped the towel around her, careful to look only at her face. She gazed up at him, at a loss for words, then looked down at her towel, her face burning. He suddenly smiled crookedly at her, and murmured, "You didn't really think I'd make you go around without being at least half dressed, did you?" he looked at her, then continued, "Actually, don't answer that. I don't think I'd like the answer." Hermione laughed.
He looked at her, startled to hear her laughing from something that he, and not her two bodyguards, had said. A warmth spread through him at the thought, and he realised that he loved this girl, dirty blood and all. His mother's voice telling him earlier in the year that blood was all the same rang in his mind, and he suddenly realised what an idiot he was to believe his father all this time. Deep down, he had hated his father, never wanting to believe what he was told, but the many beatings during his childhood had taught him to never question his father's word. Lucious's word was the law in his household. Malfoy was suddenly deeply glad his father had been thrown into Azkaban.
Hermione's curious look and an impatient finger prodding in his chest broke him out of his thoughts. "So…what does this mean, Malfoy?"
"Draco."
"Oh, sorry…um…Draco. So, what now?" Hermione looked confused, and to Malfoy, utterly adorable.
"Well, Hermione…I don't suppose you would go so far as to forgive me, and maybe we could start over…as more than friends." He looked at her.
Hermione was fighting an internal battle. 'I like him, but I can't! Harry and Ron will never forgive me…and why don't I hate him? Why?!' "Draco…" she began, hesitantly. "I think…I think I like you…but…Ron and Harry would never accept this…and how do I know you aren't just playing around with me? And besides, I can't just forgive you for the past six years after half an hour."
"I know that, Hermione, but I want you to know that all those horrible things I said and did to you over the past few years was all influenced by my father. He's in Azkaban now, he doesn't rule my thoughts and actions anymore. Hermione, you irritate me, and yet I can't keep my eyes off you. I don't care what everyone else thinks. I want you to be my girl, and my girl only."
Hermione looked at him. 'He's changed.' She suddenly realised. She slowly slid her arms around his waist and hugged him, burying her face in his chest. She smiled as his arms came around her, making her feel safe and warm. "I don't know how long it will take for me to trust you completely, Draco, but I promise that I will try. And," looking up at him with a smile, "I do want to be your girl." He grinned, then swept her off her feet and carried her downstairs into the common room, her laughter trailing behind them up the stairs, and sounding all the while like tinkling, delicate silver bells.
Six months later…Hermione furiously scribbled away on her parchment, desperate to finish her Potions essay. Two warm hands covered her eyes as she yelped out loud and jerked upright. She laughed at her antics, before saying, "I know it's you, Draco!"
"Damn!" he muttered, then laughed along with her.
Hermione turned back to her essay. "Hang on, Draco, just let me finish this essay."
He groaned in exasperation. "Hermione, it's not due until Friday!"
"Exactly! That's why I'm doing it now, I should have done it two weeks ago, I don't know what's gotten into me –" Malfoy rolled his eyes. Even after six months, her bookworm and study habits still annoyed him, yet he couldn't help but smile every time he heard her voice. He abruptly shoved her essay aside and pinned her underneath him on the couch. "You can finish it later," he murmured, his eyes heavily laced with molten silver. "Right now, you're busy." He tilted his head and brushed his lips lightly against Hermione's lips, then left a trail of kisses down her jaw and along her neck. Malfoy smirked as he felt Hermione's startled gasp as she jerked against him. "Now, what's more enjoyable, hmm?"
"Malfoy, why do you always pick the wrong time? And you're so arrogant. I mean, who says I don't like my homework better than a snobbish boyfriend who always wants to get his way?"
"Ahh, but you love me anyway, don't you, sweetie?" he grinned smugly at her as he saw her lean her head back when he ran his hand through her hair. "You love the whole 'bad-boy' attitude, it's what makes me so irresistible." He smirked again at her.
Hermione regained her senses enough to attempt to ignore what he was doing to her and glare at him. "Why, you stuck-up, selfish, conceited – mmph!" His lips descending upon hers once more abruptly cut her off. Enraged, she tried to shove him of the couch to no avail, then as he deepened the kiss, she gave up and returned the kiss. She felt him smiling against her lips. 'Arrogant swine.' She thought to herself, yet couldn't resist smiling back as she felt his arms enclosing her warmly.
Malfoy pulled back for a moment, and mock glared at her. "I know exactly what you were thinking, missy, and that's terrible to say bad things about your highly devoted and," gently kissing her, "very loving boyfriend." She laughed along with him. "I think this deserves some just punishment!"
"What?!" she burst out. He grinned devilishly at her and began to tickle her. Hermione screamed with laughter, trying to get away from the merciless torture. "Stop it, Draco!"
"Only if you apologise!"
"Never!"
"Really?" He quirked an eyebrow at her as he stopped tickling her. Hermione gasped for breath. "Well, then, as you're so stubborn…" Malfoy raised his fingers, poised to tickle her once more.
Hermione's eyes widened. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! Just no more tickling."
He grinned. "Good girl…and now, back to what we started…" He leaned over her, one hand gently running down her face as he kissed her, demanding and passionate, determined to make her forget all about her homework. And Hermione did… rather quickly.