This is an unrelated one-shot. I may add an ending to chapter 1 later if I feel like it. PLEASE REVIEW!!! Much love, Cat.

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"Malfoy," she murmured, smiling deceptively sweetly, "kindly stuff it."

His expression became shuttered and stern. "You cannot expect to erase it from the past simply by ignoring the fact that it happened."

"Not if you keep reminding me of it," Hermione mumbled, gathering her books and plopping herself down into one of the library's softer plush chairs, setting her papers and textbooks down with enough excessive force to cause Pince to narrow her eyes in warning. She mouthed a silent apology and breathed a sigh of relief when the librarian turned back to the book cards she was stamping.

Draco followed her to the chair and sank down with far more grace than a man of his stature had any right to. "Your unwillingness to acknowledge the fact that it happened won't change a thing. Besides, you can't honestly tell me that mine is not a kiss that...lingers..." he said softly, his voice taunting her with the memory of how she had lain awake reliving that moment over and over again in her mind.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, concentrating on only her breathing and not the exasperating, arrogant imbecile beside her and released it slowly. "Draco, get away from me," she said so pleasantly that he might have almost missed the meaning of the phrase if he hadn't heard the words.

"Ma chérie, how can this be? Is the little mudblood regretting trying to advance above her pitiful station in a nonacademic way? Or she just embarrassed at having entertained the thought that she could ever measure up to the standards of one of the purest wizarding families in existence?" he taunted softly. "Non, il est impossible," he murmured, the French phrases rolling easily off his elitist, pompous, slimy tongue.

Hermione turned away from him quickly in disgust, dropping her gaze to the book in her lap. "You make me sick, ferret," she hissed.

"Now, now," he admonished. "It isn't nice to call people names, mudblood. But I suppose your muggle parents wouldn't have taught you manners, would they? Il est incroyable qu'ils te laissent dans la société," he shot back in the same coolly disaffected tone.

She sucked in another deep breath, hanging desperately onto her temper, knowing that if she gave into her baser urges he would get exactly what he wanted out of her. Hermione Granger was in no mood to prove Draco Malfoy right at this moment and even less inclined to let him win, no, let him beat her at anything, even a simple argument. "At least my parents didn't teach me to be a conniving, unfeeling, close-minded, unredeemable, cowardly bigot," she bit out slowly, making sure to articulate every word more than she usually did and lingering over the word cowardly as she knew that would be sure to needle at him.

Pleasing her greatly, she held his gaze as he swallowed his retort with effort, lifting his chin and pressing his lips together firmly. Hermione watched as he stood, and could almost feel the tension vibrating through him. Fully expecting him to leave without another word, she was shocked when he suddenly grabbed her roughly, lifting her half out of the chair as he had not chosen to bend down to her and he was already considerably taller than her even without the height disparity caused by the chair, and plant a bruising kiss on her lips.

It was the complete antithesis of their last kiss, this time hard and punishing. Draco was not seeking to worship and cherish but to hurt and control. His grip on her was loose but the arms wrapped around her were like steel bands. That was meaningless as she did not attempt to struggle in the slightest but instead clung to him despite the ferocity of his approach. In response he brushed his lips over hers lightly, as though he sought to sooth the tender flesh he had injured. As she arched her back to get closer to him he suddenly released her, leaving her to collapse once more into her seat in the most ungainly way imaginable, having to clutch the armrests in order to keep her balance and not tumble out of the chair.

She opened her eyes and lifted her gaze in time to see him sweep away, his robes billowing out behind him giving him the appearance of a large bat or an avenging spirit. Simultaneously a tremor of fear and a tremor of excitement ran through her as she thought of their next encounter.