Disclaimer: I do not own anything here-within
Summary:
Malfoy and Granger continue to get along...in more ways than one. Sequel to The First Show.
The Second Show
Two weeks of careful planning with random bouts of agreement here and there went by. Hogwarts was on the brink of insanity trying to figure out this new friendship between the most legendary of enemies. But every question concerning it was easily deflected while making the interviewer feel stupid as a stick. The entire project was being a great success. Not even the famed Weasly Twins could have caused this much of a disturbance. This was right up there with Snape liking Griffendors, which beat wearing pink by a total of a half a point. And, just so we're clear, said teacher almost treated Hermione like she was a Slytherin. The snarky snake couldn't quite get over the fact that she was a Griffendor.
Five days before Christmas Break was the set date for the duo's next performance, and this one would make even MacGonagal choke on her dinner. Of course, with show time only two days away, the pair had to prepare. This required spending time together long after their bedtimes. Tonight, the details were to be discussed.
Draco was waiting on their common room leather sofa long before Hermione even got back from some be-lated N.E.W.T.'s studies. He was busy adding some extra little twists that he had no intention of telling his 'friend' about. A good Slytherin kept even his friends on their toes. When the girl burst in he made a point of putting on one of his sexier smirks and sang, "You're late, Granger."
Hermione rolled her eyes. Even as temporary equals, it was such a Malfoy thing to point out. "I nearly got caught by Peeves, again. Of course I'm late!" she snapped, dropping heavily into one of the two leather chairs in the comfy room. Though the leather was black and the coloring was neutral, the common room had the comfy feel of Griffendor Tower.
Draco chuckled at his partner's plight. "Shall I call on the Bloody Baron, again?"
Hermione put on her best cute face, saying, "Pretty please?"
Draco gave her his 'you are my underling' look, saying, "My, my, Granger. It's almost as though you're flirting with me!"
Hermione frowned and got down to business. "Okay, so we're set for Sunday night?"
Draco nodded, putting on his serious face. "The Grey Lady is having the misltoe set up right now, just as we agreed."
"And it's just going to be a quick peck, right?" asked Hermione.
"But full-blown snogging would have so much more effect," Draco argued. "We'd put the Hufflepuffs right out of their chairs."
Hermione was suddenly shy. "I'd rather not have my first kiss be like that, Draco," she said softly, not looking him in the eye. Draco raised an eyebrow at her, effectively causing a blush to rise on her cheeks. To say the least, his own personal plan was going quite well.
"Then what would you say to a little practice session?" He asked, his sexy little smirk returning. He leaned back, enjoying the sight of the dauntless Griffendor Princess fidget.
"I don't know," she said, turning away from him completely, "It's getting late, and I want to get to the library early tomorrow morning."
"A kiss doesn't take that long, Granger," Draco stated.
Hermione rolled her eyes and stood. "I'm going to bed."
She had gotten to her room and closed the door behind her before he could effectively protest. He chuckled at the Griffendor Princesses actions. It really was too bad that the Head Rooms were enchanted to keep members of the opposite sex out.
Although her night was not as sleep-filled as it should have been, Hermione was still up at dawn to get down to the library. Saturday was her day to finish off all homework, after all. She had already agreed to watch Draco play Quidditch, again, tomorrow morning. She had gathered all her books, papers, quils, and ink together before snatching up her bathroom items and heading for the bathroom, which, unfortunately, was connected to both the Head Boy and Head Girls' rooms. She knocked before entering, and recieved a, "Come on in, Miss. Granger. I'm halfway decent." in return.
Hermione paused. What did he mean by halfway, and why in Merlin's name was he up this early in the morning? God knows she didn't see him till lunch on the weekends, unless some other plan forced him to change his natural sleep pattern. "Define 'halfway decent', Draco."
She heard him laugh. "Not naked, but not fully clothed."
"How comforting," Hermione muttered, then raised her voice to say, "Well, then I suppose I'll wait."
She turned to sit on her bed, just as Draco opened the door. "So shy, 'Mione," he chided, leaning against the doorframe. When she glanced over her shoulder she saw he was wearing nothing more than a towel about the waist and his award-winning grin. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I thought we agreed to first names, not nicknames." she stated, tossing her things on her bed and sitting down.
"But I like 'Mione better," Draco pouted.
"I don't even like it when Harry, Ron, or my family for that matter, call me by it," Hermione snapped. This was not going the way she had planned.
Things weren't going according to Draco's plan either, personal or professional. Why couldn't she just be happy that he was being nice? But, if she didn't like it when the 'rents called her 'Mione, then he'd have to come up with a witty alternative. "Then...can I call you Maya?"
"How does that even relate to my real name?" Hermione asked, frowning at him.
"There's an M in your first name and an A in your last name and I didn't think Ma suited you," Draco stated. "Maya has a much more...elegant ring to it."
Hermione groaned and fell back onto her bed. "I know you wanted to use a different word there, Draco."
"I'll keep thinking then," said Draco, going back to his room. "And the bathroom is free now."
She growled at his retreating form. Stupid, stuck-up, smug purebloods! She waited for him to close the door to his room before entering and starting her morning routine, starting with warding the doors stronger than usual, twice.
For the first time in almost two months, Hermione avoided Draco for as long as she could, which lasted till dinner. Unfortunately, her attempt at further avoidance, namely by leaving before the pureblood, went right down the toilet. Draco was hot on her heels the second she stood up to head to the safety of her room. He didn't bother to catch her around the waist until they had gotten inside their common room, bringing her into very close quarters with his chest. His very solid chest. Gods, it almost sucked to be female enough to notice. But she noticed. She also noticed the fingers he slid under her shirt and the kiss he placed on her temple.
"You've been avoiding me." he murmured in a sing-song voice.
"Draco, let me go-" his lips on hers stopped her from giving him an earfull. He started gentle, so he could work her down from fighting him off, and steadily got more demanding, causing a war of tongues. What woke Hermione up was his fingers sliping under her bra and fiding with the clasp. She shoved him away and snapped, "What the hell!"
Draco chuckled and sat himself down on a couch. "Didn't suck, did it?" he asked.
"Well, no, but-"
"Then get your fine ass over here so I can do it again." Draco really was a simple man when it came to these things. He really couldn't understand prudes. He opened his arms to her and gave her a winning smile. A smile.
Hermione suspected him instantly. "I'm not your goddamn girlfriend, Draco. You want a free fuck, go bug Pansy about it," she told him tartly, crossing her arms over her nearly-violated breasts.
Draco sighed and frowned childishly. "Fine, I'll leave your blasted bra alone, now sit down so we can try it again." She didn't move, not trusting him. She shouldn't have trusted him after he said, "A Slytherin's word, Mon Cherie. You can trust that," either.
It didn't take long for Draco to turn that scortching kiss into a pile of discarded clothing. The only thing not in it was Hermione's bra. Not that she noticed. She was pretty distracted.
After the incident that night, Hermione got alot more comfortable with Draco's arm around her shoulders or waist, or even when he insisted on grabbing her ass when passing in the hall. Harry and Ron were in shock, walking around like empty shells in need of a good smack.
Their plan was a success, though. The little snogging session was followed up that night as well...at least, it almost was. Snape was always really good at sniffing out a good time.
fin