Chapter 2 -Needles and Pins-
"Harry – watch it!" Hermione gasped at the alarming sensation of a warm hardness brushing against her inner thigh.
"What is it?" he muttered, his hot breath tickling her ear. Hermione wriggled under him. She had been truly disappointed to be let down on her hopes for release before, and now that Harry and she finally had the opportunity to continue with the activities that had been so unpleasantly interrupted by Ginny's appearance at her door, her body was yearning with need.
For once, Harry had taken himself time to arouse her and the effect of these efforts, was a pleasant sensation of warmth spreading through her. But there was still an important matter that needed to be dealt with, before she could allow herself to get carried away by this unusual feeling of wantonness. A matter she took very seriously. Her throat dry with longing, she sat up a little to look at Harry, whose face was flushed with lust. "Wait – we – need to put on the rubber first," she croaked hoarsely.
"We don't have any," was the likewise huskily-whispered response, muffled against the crook of her shoulder. "They are – still – in the pocket of my – jeans – In your room." Hermione drew in a sharp breath. The heavy disappointment she felt at these words almost made her arousal subside again, but just almost. "Oh – but … Why didn't you bring them along?" she asked, flabbergasted.
"I forgot, OK?" Harry muttered, tracing his fingertips across the soft skin of her legs, close to the one point that longed so desperately for his touch. A low moan escaped Hermione's throat as she waited for his fingertips to brush across the sensitive, needy flesh. But yet, he didn't touch her.
"Harry," she gasped and he just gripped her tighter and bucked his hips against hers in a slow and yet very significant movement. But just a second before he truly reached his destination, Hermione nervously shifted her belly so that his throbbing hardness missed her by inches and nudged against her leg instead. "Harry, no –" Hermione choked, startled, fighting against her own urge to play along and just give in to her own desire.
"Now come, Hermione, don't make a fuss about it," Harry whispered pleadingly and kissed her neck again.
Hermione bit her lip, closing her eyes to keep her thoughts straight. He was right, she realised. They had left her bedroom on tiptoe so not to wake Ginny, who had finally fallen asleep – and in their haste, they had not brought the rest of their clothes along.
Harry, who took her prolonged silence for agreement, kissed her fiercely and made another attempt to nudge into her, but once again, she shifted – just in time.
Gasping for breath Harry broke the kiss. "Ahhah yes – Hermione, you're doing this on purpose, right?" he moaned. "You just want to urge me on, don't you? That's so good – Hermione – it makes me so hot – if you pretend to be pulling back, whenever I get close to entering you it gets me just – horny –" he panted, caressing the soft skin of her ear and neck with his teeth, sending shivers of excitement through her at the touch. He had removed his hands from her hips and was cupping her breasts now instead, slightly rubbing and squeezing her nipples between the pads of his thumbs and his indexes. The unaccustomed feeling of being touched and caressed with such ardour made it doubly-difficult for Hermione to resist him. It seemed like such a waste to abandon their plans, especially when he was being so – thorough with his hands and his mouth…
A shudder filled her at the feel of his warm breath against her ear. "Hermione," he sighed "Hermione, you're so beautiful – I want you so much – oh please – let's do it now – let's just – do – it! Right now – Oh please –"
It was so tempting to just give in to the sensations of longing and need and buck her hips against his to intensify the contact and feel him inside her. It would be so easy – so good – so – Nonetheless a tiny but resolute corner of her mind objected violently to such carelessness. "Harry, no – not without protection –" she muttered, desperately fighting for the last vestige of self-control. Her own voice was sounding strange in her ears.
"Aaahhh... I've been waiting so long for you! Please, you're so sexy, I can't wait…" Harry sighed, reaching down to steady her pelvis so she would not be able to squirm away at the next movement of his hips against hers. "Enough of this teasing – you won't get away this time –" he laughed softly, nibbling her neck and biting her earlobe.
"No, Harry – stop it!" The sudden sharpness of her remark made him realise she was serious. Confused and slightly startled he opened his eyes.
"I can't enjoy myself when I'm worried about getting pregnant," she frowned, refusing to acknowledge the little voice in the back of her mind that said: 'You never – really – enjoy yourself, do you? Well, maybe it's different this time.'
Harry, who ran his palms up and down her hips and belly, in a desperate attempt to make her change her mind and once again, shoved her legs apart with his knee. "I won't come inside you, I promise! Oh Hermione – I can't stand this! Don't say you want me to wait – again?!"
"Please, Harry – don't make me do this – we agreed," Hermione told him seriously, cupping his hot, flushed cheek with her hand.
For a couple of seconds he merely stared at her and she almost expected him to complain again. Therefore she was more than a little surprised when he just sighed and rolled off her, pulling her close. "Oh, OK if there's nothing I can do to make you change your mind –"
Smiling, she snuggled her face into the crook of his shoulder and planted a little kiss on his skin. She was so glad to have finally convinced him. But his next words made the illusion subside again. Running his hand up and down her shoulder, he started to bite her earlobe again and muttered huskily: "But you won't just let me down, will you? How about if we just do what we tried last week? You know –"
Before he managed to finish his sentence, though, Hermione cut in. "Oh no, I'd rather not do that."
"Hermione," Harry moaned, slightly exasperated. "What's wrong now? Don't tell me you're afraid of that, too? You don't think you could get pregnant doing that, do you?" he mocked with a bitter note to his voice. "And I really – can't bear it any longer –"
"Oh Harry, no," Hermione objected, "I told you it makes me gag. I don't want to do that again!"
"Well, maybe you aren't doing it right," he shot back and she could tell from the sound of his voice that he was in quite a bad mood. The words stung, but she decided to let it go.
Harry merely stared at her for a second, then, all of a sudden, he let go of her. "Fine then," he snapped, leaping to his feet. "I guess I'll just go jerk off in the shower. Again. You're a real cocktease, you know, Hermione? Sometimes I wonder if you really want me at all."
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When the first sunbeams tickled her nose, Ginny stirred in her sleep.
The first she noticed was that the wall was on the wrong side of the bed and the light seemed to come from the wrong direction as well. Up in her room the head of her bed was placed beside the window, whereas now bright sunlight from the other side of the room shone right into her face.
A little confused, she rubbed her eyes and waited for this information to sink in. It took her a few seconds to realise that she was lying in Hermione's bed. With a frown she remembered the night before. The bad dream she'd had and the fact that she had turned to her friend for comfort.
But Hermione had not been alone. Blushing, she remembered that she had obviously intruded on her and Harry in a rather importune moment. The night before she had been too troubled by her nightmare to care, but now –
She buried her face in the pillow to stifle a groan at the memory. How – embarrassing. And she had even cried in Harry's arms and for all it looked like, she had fallen asleep just here. Now she was truly blushing. She had still such a crush on him and sometimes it was just too hard that her best friend of all people was dating him.
They must have moved to her room for the night and were probably still asleep, or – catching up on the things on which she had intruded. In her bed! She felt a stab of jealousy at the idea, but tried her best to ignore it.
There was no way she would be able to fall asleep again. With a grin, she noticed that Lavender still had not returned from Ron's room, and maybe it was best to leave before she did. Ginny didn't feel in the mood for any explanations, nor hearing Lavender swoon over Ron, first thing in the morning.
The only problem was that she had nothing on but a night-dress and her panties and didn't want to disturb Harry and Hermione to get clothing from her room. No, it was much better to borrow some of Hermione's clothes and head down to the kitchen instead. Her mum would be probably up already, preparing breakfast. She would most likely welcome her help and it would be a good opportunity to get her thoughts off the frustrating images of Harry and Hermione having it off – in her bed.
Life simply wasn't fair.
With an exasperated sigh Ginny swung her feet out of bed and approached the chair beside the closet, on which a pile of clothes was heaped.
It was easy to tell to whom the pieces belonged. Lavender's things were much like her own, wizards' style, but Hermione's Muggle fabrics held a strange fascination for Ginny. She chose a simple, sleeveless summer dress whose swinging skirt ended a few inches above the knee. Black, with a pattern of tiny beige leaves. With the dress it did not matter that she was almost a head shorter than her friend. She wouldn't need shoes inside, but it was probably good to look for some kind of sweater to wear above the sleeveless dress at this early hour. A nice pale-blue cardigan caught her eye and she started to drag it out from under the other clothes. At that the whole piled started to shift and she hurried to stabilise it and pick up the fabric that had fallen to the floor.
A pair of Muggle trousers made her stop in her tracks. For all she knew these were called jeans, but they could not belong to Hermione as they were too large for her. They must be Harry's, she mused with a grin. Refusing the urge to give them a closer look, she quickly placed them back with the rest.
But she had barely turned to leave, when the sound of something small clattering to the floor caused her to turn her head.
A little shiny object was rolling beneath the chest of drawers by the door. Her first suspicion was that it must be some kind of money, a Sickle probably, due to its silvery shine; but when she picked it up, she noted it was a button that must have loosened and fallen off when she had placed the trousers back across the chair. Too bad.
On an impulse she decided on fixing it, before Harry wondered what she had done with his clothes. The problem was just that she wasn't allowed to do any magic during the holidays. Besides that she did not have her wand even.
Thoughtfully she looked around until her gaze fell on Lavender's stitching set on her bedside table. Yes, that would be the best solution. Glad to have worked something out, she sat down in a patch of sunlight in a cross-legged position on the floor and spread the trousers across her lap to see the place she needed to sew the button on.
While picking out thread of suitable colour, she placed the needle into the material of the trousers, so not to drop it; and startled as she realised that she had gone through the pocket by mistake. She knew because Harry must have had some kind of rubbish in there, a candy-wrapper or something – because it made a crinkly, wrappery sound.
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Half an hour after breakfast, Hermione was seated in the cool shadow of an old oak tree at the edge of the Weasleys' garden, an open book in her lap.
Charlie was staying at the Burrow for the whole of August and Harry, Ron and his brothers were engaged in a variation of a Quidditch game, their happy, excited calls and laughter drifting in to her from the sunny field behind the hedge. Lavender and Ginny had decided to follow the boys to watch their game.
With a soft sigh Hermione leaned her back against the old tree's rough bark and stretched her legs. The dry summer grass tickled her toes, as she had kicked her sandals off. She was glad to have some time to herself after the closeness at the Burrow. She could very well do without the constant presence of another person.
She still felt a little sad about her quarrel with Harry the night before. Things weren't going too well between them anyway these past few weeks. She still cared a lot about him, but was not entirely sure if he felt the same. Sometimes he was so focused on himself that he did not even notice he wasn't paying attention to her interests and needs in the slightest.
He had been such a dear friend when they had been younger, but as a lover he was kind of thoughtless. He did not understand when she wanted to study or just read instead of watching his Quidditch practice and it was not just that – In bed things weren't going well either.
It wasn't that she didn't enjoy having sex, but it was nearly always a rushed spontaneous act, which was usually over before she got the chance to really enjoy herself. What bugged her most, though, were Harry's persistent attempts to get it on at places they could be discovered any second. She on the contrary hated it. A few times she had played along, but hadn't enjoyed it at all.
After the unfortunate developments of the previous night, Harry had been in quite a bad mood, but Hermione was nonetheless glad she had not allowed herself to get carried away by the heat of the moment.
Though he had tried to act normal at breakfast, she knew he was still mad at her for letting him down on his hopes and she hated how he made her feel guilty for her refusal. He had been kind of giving her the silent treatment and instead had talked to Ginny, who had been overjoyed by his attention.
Despite her personal problems, Hermione had been glad to see her friend laugh, which she rarely did these days. Ginny had never been the same since Fred's death and besides that Hermione felt a little sorry for her. She knew Ginny still hadn't fully overcome her crush on Harry. Poor Ginny, it couldn't be easy for her.
But she had looked a lot better this morning, Hermione remembered. Her eyes had followed Harry's every movement and her cheeks had held a reddish glow, when he had told her how pretty she looked in her new dress. He had not even noticed it was Hermione's dress, a fact which didn't exactly improve her own mood.
And when he had finally even asked her to come along with him and her brothers to watch them play Quidditch, Ginny had been over the moon.
Hermione sighed again. Harry had bugged her to join them and watch the practice as well, but she hadn't been in the mood for the rough, loud atmosphere that came along with it.
She was much more comfortable all by herself in the tree's shadow, reading, or just giving in to her own thoughts about the upcoming school year – their seventh and last one.
If she'd only had Crookshanks with her. The poor fellow had died during the first weeks of the holidays. She did not like to even talk about it there at the Burrow, because losing Crookshanks seemed so trivial next to the death of Fred – but she missed him so much. What made it worse was that she felt responsible for her cat's death. He had been hit by a car after she let him out one night… and she could not help but play the 'what if' game in her mind, thinking that her dear familiar would still be with her if she had just kept him inside that night.
Her parents had offered her to pick out a new cat at Diagon Alley, but so far she had refused. She couldn't just focus on a new pet yet. Maybe later, during the Christmas holidays, but not yet.
A piece of parchment slipped out of the pages of 'Hogwarts: A History'. With a slight smile she enfolded the letter that was placed as a bookmark inside and which she had read about 20 times these past few days.
'Dear Miss Hermione Granger,' the emerald green letters of Professor McGonagall's neat handwriting read,
'We are proud to inform you that you have been chosen to fill in the position as Hogwarts' Head Girl for the upcoming term.
Please consider the duties and responsibility that come along with this task seriously, before you tell us your decision. Sincerely,
M. McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'
Smiling, Hermione refolded the parchment and placed it back into her favourite book. There was no doubt that she would take the position offered to her. Being the Gryffindor Prefect for the previous two years she had grown rather fond of the responsibility and had already hoped for a chance like this.
She'd had a good reason for these hopes as it was usually one of the Prefects who was selected. Now she was just curious, who would take the position as Head Boy this year. She really hoped it would be Terry Boot, the former Ravenclaw Prefect, with whom she got along quite well. The other option would have to be Draco Malfoy and for understandable reasons, she wasn't at all fond of that idea.
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Around lunch time Hermione had just carried her book up to her room and was on her way back downstairs, when she almost ran into Harry who was on his way to take a shower before lunch. He was in quite an euphoric mood after the game. "Ahh, Hermione, there you are!" he smiled and hugged her impulsively.
Glad that he wasn't acting funny around her anymore, Hermione leaned into the embrace. "Hi," she smiled and flung her arms around him, "how was the game?"
"Great," he laughed and ran his hand down her back, "Ron and I kicked George's and Charlie's asses. You'd truly think they'd play better than that, since they've both been on our House team once, but I guess it's the lack of practice."
With that he pulled her into a kiss, to which she gladly and eagerly responded. For all it appeared Harry was very glad about their 'make up' as well. The kiss quickly deepened and when Hermione leaned closer, she clearly felt his erection pressing against her thigh.
"You know what," he whispered, nuzzling her neck and started to run his hands up and down her back, "I was originally planning to take a shower, but –" he briefly turned his head to look over his shoulder and listened to the sound of voices from the kitchen below. "Since we're all alone up here, I guess I have a better idea."
"Harry," Hermione gasped, "you can't be serious about that!"
"Oh yes, I think this is a – very – nice idea, "he whispered, still grinning as he manoeuvred her back into the shadows at the stairs' winding.
"And what would that be, Mr. Potter?" Hermione teased, still laughing, but he once again captured her lips in a hungry kiss.
"I'll show you –" he muttered into her half opened mouth, running the tip of his tongue across her lower lip. Hermione responded eagerly to the kiss, closing her eyes at the sudden intense feel of her own arousal, she leaned back against the wall.
Once again Harry was doing an unusually-good job of arousing her – unlike usual, 'wham-bam-up-against-a-pillar-under-the-invisibility-cloak', he took himself some time and she – hoped – that it meant he would also be paying more attention to her – more intimate – needs.
For quite some time they just kissed hungrily and Hermione sighed happily at the pleasant sensations of Harry's fingertips caressing her breasts through the thin fabric of her summer dress. His hands were roaming across her body. One second they were cupping her breasts, the next they were running down along her sides, brushing softly across her belly, hips and thighs down to the hem of her short skirt, caressing her knee.
Kissing her fiercely, he let his fingertips wander up the bare skin of her thigh, while his knee started to shove her legs apart.
"No, Harry, wait ..." Hermione complained weakly, but he just touched her through the thin fabric of her panties.
It felt heavenly, and soon Hermione's own hands were tangled in Harry's hair, messing it even more than it usually was. She slid her hands down his neck and shoulders with firm, kneading strokes. Glided them down his back in one fluid movement and started to slowly wander to the front side to gently rub the hard bulge in his trousers. Her caresses were answered by a husky gasp of pleasure.
"Hermione –" Harry panted and softly bit her neck. In a heated movement his hips bucked forward and pressed his erection into her hand.
With a soft sigh she tilted her head back and closed her eyes to dwell on the sensation of his lips trailing down a heated line of kisses across the tender flesh of her neck.
Nonetheless she couldn't relax at the constant fear of being detected by Mrs. Weasley.
Harry seemed to have no such worries though. But when he tried to drag her panties down, she gripped his hand to stop him.
"No – H-harry no, wait, stop. Stop this! Stop!" Slowly, but resolutely she withdrew herself from him, pressing her palms against his chest to shove him off. His exasperated complaint made her feel really bad once again.
"Oh Hermione, don't say you want to make me wait – again!?" he moaned.
"No," she whispered lovingly, "no, I won't, but – Harry – let's go to my room at least."
"Where's your sense of adventure?" he teased, but hurried to follow her upstairs.
¥
Once they were back in her room, Hermione locked the door so Lavender wouldn't walk in on them by accident. She had barely turned to key, though, when Harry already encircled her from behind, pressing his erection against her backside. "Oh Hermione," he moaned, cupping her breasts in the palms of his hands, before his fingers wandered further down her body. "Hurry, I can't wait any longer."
A heated kiss was placed on her nape. "I – can't – wait –" With that he almost dragged her towards the bed. It was utterly clear that this would be one of the very rushed and heated encounters and Hermione had little hopes to find her own release.
Nonetheless she at least tried to explain her feelings to him.
When he laid her back across the bed and straddled her, pressing her down with his weight, she reached up to touch his face again. "Harry," she whispered, "I'd rather not do it right away. I want to sleep with you, but – not like this. Not this rushed – let's take some more time. We could at least snuggle a little before we do it, shall we?"
"Ahh– Hermione," he moaned, less enthusiastic, "we can snuggle in bed tonight, OK? Right now I'm too juicy to wait any longer. All I want right now is to let you have it ..."
"Yes, I know, but Harry –"
"Hermione – " he pleaded, rocking his pelvis against hers and she decided to take pity on him.
When she unzipped his trousers and shoved her hand inside to caress his erection through the material of his briefs, Harry gasped with want and started to hurriedly rid himself of his pants. Hermione helped him to pull them down far enough to free his erection, but when he lowered himself onto her and started to spread her legs further apart, she suddenly stopped him.
"Wait," she whispered softly, "hand me the rubber first!"
Moaning, Harry leaned back a little and hastily fumbled with the pocket of his trousers. "Oh, damn!" he suddenly cursed. "I don't have any at all!"
"But you always carry some around with you," Hermione frowned.
"Yes, but I picked a fresh pair of jeans from my trunk, when I slipped back into my room this morning and I haven't – Oh come on, let's get it on without, Hermione. Just this once …" he pleaded.
Strongly reminded of the previous night, Hermione felt a stab of anger at the fact that he tried to talk into this for the third time in a row in merely 12 hours.
"I'll pull out, before I come – really…" he promised.
"No Harry, I won't do that and that's final," she declared with a sigh and prepared to get up again.
"No, no wait – Hermione, we can do it, anyway!" he told her.
"Oh, we already had that discussion yesterday, hadn't we? The answer is no!" she snapped.
Instead of complaining, Harry kicked off his pants, hurried across the room and fumbled with the pocket of the jeans he had worn the day before. He returned broadly grinning, holding up a condom wrapper.
Unable to hide her amusement, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, that's fortunate," she grinned. Laughing, she dragged him onto the bed again kissing him soundly.
With trembling fingertips, she unwrapped the rubber and just managed to place it on his throbbing erection, before he shoved her panties aside and entered her in one fluid movement. Gasping at the sudden, rough contact, Hermione flung her arms around his back.
"Oh, finally –" Harry gasped, "finally!!"
Hermione couldn't join him in his passionate abandon. She tried her best to block any thoughts of Lavender and the Weasleys from her mind and just concentrate on Harry and her feelings. Very slowly she felt a warm, itching tension building up in her, but just when she started to really enjoy herself, a noise from the corridor outside made her flinch. All her earlier efforts were thwarted by this perilous distraction. Tensely Hermione listened to the approaching steps and muffled voices.
"Shht – Harry," she whispered, tapping his shoulder, "Harry, there's someone outside." But he seemed to be only turned on more by the idea.
"Hermione? Are you there?" Lavender's voice echoed from outside.
Then Ron's hushed voice could be heard. "Why don't you go in?"
"The door is locked," Lavender giggled. "Can you believe it? They are having it on – again!"
The tart laugh from Ron made Hermione feel worse. "Hey Harry! How many points are you scoring for Gryffindor today?" he called, softly knocking his knuckles against the door and Hermione could hear Lavender giggle once again. Then the voices in the corridor subsided, and Hermione heard her friends hurry away, still giggling and sniggering.
As much as the disturbance might have startled and embarrassed her, Harry seemed to be truly thrilled by it.
Gasping with lust, he started to grind his hips into hers more forcefully and only moments later, she felt his body go rigid. With a final thrust of his hips he was pushed over the edge. And as he collapsed onto her, his breath rushed, groaning into her shoulder, Hermione wondered how it was possible to be so close to another person and feel yet so much alone.
¥
The moment the compartment door clattered open, she knew it would be him.
Arrogantly raising a pale blond eyebrow, he looked at them. "Well, if it isn't Potty and his Mudblood along with their beggarly friends the Weasels?"
"Oh and Brown decided to disgrace her inheritance and muddle with them as well," he added with malice.
"Sod off Malfoy," Ron just growled while Hermione was trying her best to overcome the shock of seeing the dreaded Head Boy badge pinned to the front of the Slytherin's robes.
Beside her she noticed Ginny go rigid with fright in her seat. After the fateful attack, she was deeply scared by all kind of trouble, especially if at the hands of a Slytherin.
When Hermione took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly, Ginny turned towards her, her fearful brown eyes appearing oddly huge in her pale, frightened face.
"Yeah, clear off Malfoy," Harry added casually, "and by the way, you should really think of some new material. It's getting truly boring."
"Oh, it's something new you are asking for?" Malfoy taunted, his eyes glittering. "Well, lets see…"
He let his gaze wander around the compartment until his pale-grey eyes settled on Hermione.
"Hey, Granger – where's your cat?" he called, "I hope you didn't let him out, did you?"
He must have noticed her flinch as he continued in a fake concerned voice: "Because everybody knows that wizarding animals don't know anything about Muggle junk like traffic. You didn't let him get run over by a car, did you, Granger? Because a great witch like you would never let a stupid thing like that happen to someone you loved."
Hermione gasped at the meanness of his words. Furiously she blinked against the tears that shot into her eyes, unwilling to let him see how much his crude, but yet precise guess had hurt her; but Malfoy had already turned his attention towards the rest of the group.
"Oh my, it looks like it's going to be a rather unhealthy year for redheads – Again," he taunted sickeningly. "You'd better watch it Weasley," he added with a meaningful look at Ron, whose face had become pale with rage over the tasteless jibe. Hermione could not believe her ears. This comment had been low, even for Malfoy's standards and for a couple of seconds neither of them moved at all.
¥
Once the words were out, Draco was shocked at his own rudeness. He had not really meant to bring up the death of their brother. But now that he had, he would not back away, or even apologise for it. A smug expression on his face, he pretended to be perfectly comfortable with his choice of words.
Before any of them had the chance to respond, Weasley's little sister had jumped to her feet and dashed forward. "Take that back you – You –" words failed her as she threw herself at him for the insult, her face pale with wrath.
Draco, who had not expected her sudden rush took a step back and collided with Goyle, who was standing in the doorway behind him. His smug grin was wiped from his face. Too startled to respond he simply stared at the fragile red-head, who looked angry enough to rip his throat out. Before she reached him, though, Potter and Weasley gripped her by the arms and tried to drag her into her seat again, but she struggled violently to get free. It was such a hilarious sight to watch Potter and Weasley at their attempts to becalm the sobbing, furious girl that he did not notice Granger approaching him.
Only when she stepped right in front of him, her face completely expressionless, he looked up. His eyes widened at the sight of the clearly visible Head Girl badge that was pinned to the front of her robes.
¥
Hermione knew it was a crude, childish thing to do, and did not at all go well with her position; but at the sight of Ginny's trembling form, finally slumped in a sobbing heap against Harry's chest, and the smug look on Malfoy's face, something snapped inside her.
Within a few seconds she was out of her seat and slapped him hard across the face. "How dare you – you – Son of a b – w–itch!" she hissed her voice cold and unsteady with rage.
Immediately Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward, but Malfoy signalled them to stay out of this, with a wordless wave of his hand. First it was only the imprint of her hand on his cheek that reddened, but after a few more seconds his whole face flushed with fury. "You'll be sorry for that you bitchy Mudblood filth!" he hissed, "believe me, I will make you pay!"
A/N: After writing and re-writing this chapter several times on a range from PG-13 to NC-17, I decided that this fic will do best as 'R'. Not all chapters will contain as much 'stuff' as this one, but there will be some more 'R' scenes every now and then, even if the main part of this story would probably be perfectly fine as PG-13.
I hope you like it so far.
The chapter's title is borrowed from a song by Smokie.
Thanks for reviewing.
And lots of thanks to SilentG, my wonderful beta reader!
*Elven Ranger* Thanks for the first review to 'What do I care'.
*Sex and Diamonds* Yes, I suppose 'R' is the best choice for this story.
*Mayhem* Thanks – more FTDO, is hopefully soon to come.
*Silver Dawn* Thanks for the nice comments.
*tiger* Oh yes, I saw him in the film and I really liked his 'dark' sinister appearance. Creepy ughh -
Serpentina