Sunday, Day Two

Sunday, she received a post in the morning mail, an unusual enough occurrence that it caught the attention of her two best friends. "Oi, who's sending you mail on a Sunday?" Ron asked, spitting eggs all over the table.

Hermione grimaced and stood. "None of your business," she spat at him, disgusted with his manners and dismayed that they were the first words spoken between the two of them in a week. Harry just sighed and stared down at his plate.

As soon as she was through the double doors, she was listening for the footsteps she was sure she'd hear. A grin creased her lips as they fell in behind her, just as she'd anticipated. She hurried to the Astronomy Tower, reading her parchment quickly before arriving so she'd be prepared for him.

"Why are you still following me?" She asked tetchily.

"You looked upset at breakfast," he said quietly.

"And?" she turned to face him, sneering.

"And since your idiot friends didn't seem inclined to comfort you..." he trailed off.

"You thought you might offer me a shoulder to cry on?" she taunted him.

He sighed, running his hand impatiently through his hair. "Something like that..." he mumbled.

"Look Malfoy," she said, her voice gentling slightly. "I don't know what's got into you lately, but we aren't friends, we aren't going to be friends, and you following me around isn't going to change that. It would be best if you stopped." She knew her words would only make him try harder, was counting on it in fact. She turned around as soon as she finished speaking, looking out over the grounds so that he couldn't see the laughter dancing in her eyes.

She wasn't expecting him to put his hands on her shoulders and lean in to breath in her ear, "I don't want to be your friend Granger."

She turned to face him, standing toe to toe, noses nearly touching and whispered, "Then what do you want Malfoy?"

He smiled at her, leaned down and before she could move his mouth was covering hers. She grabbed his sweater in her fists and kissed him back. It wasn't right, there was no future in it, but she couldn't help but think he was damn good with his mouth. It was too bad he was such a prat.

That was all the reminder it took to detach herself emotionally and focus on strictly the logistics of what she was doing. Secret snogging would keep him chasing her until she was ready to watch him fall on his ass.

She pulled back, making a show of panting slightly as she stared at him with wide eyes. "Why did you do that?" she asked, voice quivering.

"Because I've wanted to for years..." he brushed his knuckles gently over her cheek, eyes staring down at her with longing and nervousness. At that moment, she couldn't have said who was the better actor. The both of them were playing their parts so well that if she'd been watching from the outside, she'd have thought they were actually falling in love. She thought of the time she saw Charlie Weasley naked and felt a blush heat her cheeks, just as she'd intended, and turned her head away in a mock impression of shyness.

She nibbled her lip, listening for his stifled groan before whispering, "We can't."

"We can," he whispered back, using his thumb to raise her face back to his and brushing his lips over hers again. She shook her head slowly, left to right. "We can!" He insisted. "No one has to know... not yet, while we're still in school... then after graduation it won't matter what they think."

She couldn't meet his eyes or he'd know instantly that she was laughing at him. "You... you mean, like a secret relationship?"

"Exactly!" He sounded so proud of himself for the idea.

She turned back towards the grounds so that his front was pressed to her back and said, "Let me think about it."

He nuzzled her neck. "Don't think yourself out of it Granger... we both want it, let's give it a shot. If it doesn't work, then we end it, no hard feelings?"

She nodded, "I'll let you know." He brushed a kiss over her neck, fingers trailing delicately over her bare arms before leaving her alone.

She waited until she heard the door shut before turning with a triumphant smile. "I bow to the Mistress..." Pansy said softly, making her way to Hermione's location from the shadows where she'd been hiding. "If I didn't know better..."

Hermione laughed. "Ah but you do... think he bought it?"

"Oh he bought it alright, hell I bought it and I wasn't involved. The both of you are crazy good liars... it's scary actually." Pansy laughed and Hermione grinned at her. They parted to go their separate ways then.

At lunch Hermione was careful to meet his eyes before turning away. She didn't miss the gloating expression, nor the surprised look on Zabini's face. She didn't dare look at Pansy, instead turning to talk to Harry. "What's going on?" her best friend asked quietly enough that no one else could hear.

She looked at him and grinned. It only took a few minutes of whispered conversation behind cupped hands to catch him up. He shook his head, smiling nervously. "Be careful, 'Mione," he whispered. "This has the potential to blow up in your face."

She nodded. "I know," she said, careful to keep her face turned away from the Slytherin table, "But it's the perfect opportunity to put the ferret in his place." He nodded, agreeing to keep Ron off of her case for the following two weeks until this mess concluded.

"I don't disagree, just don't think... don't think I don't know you have feelings for him. I never said anything because it didn't matter, but I know you were crushing on him and... I don't want you to get hurt."

She laughed then, a light tinkling sound that made everyone around her smile. "Oh Harry," she leaned into his shoulder and stared up into his beautiful eyes. "Lusting after a boy is so completely different than actually falling for him. Malfoy is eye candy, I enjoy looking at him, but have no intention of making it a permanent diet." She shuddered at the idea.

He grinned at her, throwing his arm around her shoulder in a casual embrace. She looked across the hall from beneath her eyelashes and nearly exploded when she saw the anger and jealousy on the Slytherin's face. She looked down a bit and saw Pansy grinning.

"You know," she said casually, opening her eyes to stare up at him adoringly. "Pansy is your Potion's partner right? Never know, you may just find that you like her... she's not at all like I thought."

Harry pushed away from her playfully, groaning, "Bite your tongue woman. I enjoy my life the way it is thanks. Now that I'm done with drama I'm keeping it that way." She laughed at him, cuddling back into his side, all the time her shadowed eyes were trained on the blond watching them with tight lips and narrowed eyes. She pressed a kiss to her best friends cheek and left the table, headed for her usual haunt.

It probably wasn't nice to use Harry in such a manner, but he was more than willing and it gave her an outlet for her true crush without coming out and saying it. He did just as she expected. Before she reached the Library she was unceremoniously pushed into an empty classroom. "What was that?" he demanded as soon as the door shut.

"What was what?" She argued defensively, hands on hips, though she knew very well what had him so upset.

"What was all that flirting and touching Potter at lunch? I thought... I thought..." he broke off, eyes staring at her, confusion etched deeply into his sharp features.

He's so pretty, she thought wistfully. With his expensively styled messy hair and molten silver eyes, the Malfoy heir was a stunning example of prime breeding. His broad shoulders and sexy body only enhanced his angelic features. Too bad he's such an ass, she thought with a mental snort. Although, perhaps it's for the best, if he had a decent personality he'd be entirely too easy to fall for.

She shook off the thought, forcing her mind back to the conversation at hand. "Harry's my best friend," she said softly, stepping closer to touch his cheek. "I always flirt and touch him, he does the same, it doesn't mean anything between us. We know how it is, we don't belong together as more than friends."

He scoffed, leaning into her hand. "It may not mean anything to you, but I see the way he looks at you. It means something to him..." she met his eyes then. It was obvious he meant every word, she'd never seen him so serious in the nearly eight years since she'd met him. "I know that look Granger," he said quietly, holding her cheeks so that she was looking at him. "I know it well, I've worn it several times over the year when nobody could see me." He leaned down and kissed her and she'd have sworn he meant it.

She not only allowed it, but encouraged it. She leaned into him, fingers running up his chest to cross behind his neck, raising to her tiptoes so that their faces were closer together. When his hands crossed under her bum, lifting her higher, she wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively and kissed him harder. He groaned, backing her against the wall, thrusting into her through their clothes. She whimpered, putting as much emotion in it as she could, which at the moment was quite a bit, and began to push at his chest.

"Malfoy," she whispered frantically. "Malfoy stop!" He did, resting his head against hers and breathing deeply.

"I'm sorry," he whispered back, tracing the fingers of one hand over her cheek soothingly while the other continued to hold her firmly. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, turning her head so that their eyes met. "I lost my head. It... well I can't promise I won't lose my head again, but I can promise that if you tell me to stop, or at anytime say no... it's done. I won't... I won't force you to do anything you don't want to."

She nodded, recognizing the truth, even if this whole thing was based on a lie. She recognized what Harry had meant, and for the first time she was worried. She was gambling her virginity on a bet, a stupid bet that she was quickly forgetting in the heat of his embrace. It had nothing to do with liking someone, it was seduction, plain and simple and he was a Master at the game. "I... I have to go," she whispered, pushing him away and fixing her clothes before bolting without a second look.

She didn't meet with Pansy that night, ashamed to admit that she'd lost her head, even momentarily.