Chapter Four
Draco Malfoy was drunk. Ragingly so. He had locked himself in his room, a silencing spell cast upon it so as not to alert the volatile Head Girl. Not that it probably mattered anyway. Granger had done everything possible to avoid him the next day; she wouldn't meet his eyes and she didn't say a word when he "accidentally" brushed against her to enter Transfiguration. She just side-stepped quickly and stuck to Harry's back like glue. In a way it was a relief not to hear her prattle at him at how inappropriate he had behaved the previous night. A silent Granger was a rare sight to behold. At the same time though, it bothered him. Malfoys' didn't get ignored. He hated it actually.
Draco took another swig of smuggled Firewhiskey, feeling the heat spread to his stomach, making him grimace slightly.
I wasn't really telling the truth when I told myself that she had never been a blip on my radar. Once before she had been on my mind.
It had been their second year; he remembered telling his father about this mousy looking, brown-haired chit that antagonized him at every turn academically. He had been so jealous of her intelligence and her loyalty to the Chosen One, her misplaced feeling of courageous superiority… it was enough to make him gag. Yet, to his surprise, those qualities had drawn him to her. He had wanted to know more about her then, to know what made that brilliant young girl tick.
His father must have sensed something he obviously didn't, because the older man would turn deadly serious as he regarded his son. Disappointment clouding the same grey eyes they both shared.
I sincerely hope, my dear boy, that you are not entertaining some fanciful idea about this girl. I have not raised my son to sully himself and that of the Malfoy name with the likes of some muggle-born filth. Let this infatuation of yours die, Draco. Remember that she is not good enough to even lick the heel of your boot. Have I made myself perfectly clear?
A young Draco Malfoy nodded sullenly, eyes cast downward under the weight of his father's cold glare; his need to be obedient outweighing any of his own feelings.
Ever since that day, Draco had made it his mission to torture and ridicule Granger and her friends at every turn, until finally he began to believe what he was doing was right and that she deserved it for being born lower than he. In doing so, he gained his father's precious approval and he finally dared to be content with that.
Draco's hand clenched around the bottle, flames of fury washing over him until it consumed him. He threw the bottle against the wall, watching as it exploded into many jagged shards of glass; leftover liquid dripping down to pool on the floor.
"You're rotting in Azkaban now, old man. I don't need your fucking approval anymore. I can do and have whatever I bloody want now. Including her."
Hermione assured herself incessantly that she was not a coward.
I'm not. In no way am I a coward. That would be absolutely preposterous in fact! I'm not avoiding Draco…I'm just…trying not to be around him one bit is all.
Even her own mind wasn't quite convinced.
She still couldn't fathom the events of last night. Draco had kissed her, and instead of justly deserved retaliation she up and fled like the scared prey she was. Hermione felt a bit ashamed of herself, really; hiding away in her room with wards set on the door in case Malfoy was so inclined for round two. She had sat upon her bed, knees drawn to her chest, ears straining to hear his inevitable return. It had been a full hour until his footsteps traipsed through the commons, but he didn't try to come inside her room. Instead, she heard the harsh slamming of his own door and only after another ten minutes of silence could she finally relax and try to slip into a restless sleep.
The next morning she had made sure to rise earlier than he; grabbing up her things and making her way out of the portrait as quickly and quietly as possible. At breakfast she pretended nothing was amiss; indulging in idle chatter with Ginny and the boys, only once daring to look over at the enemy. He also acted as if nothing was wrong; just the same smug confidence as usual as he talked with Zabini and Nott. Hermione had let herself think that maybe, he had regretted his actions from last night and just wanted to forget about it as much as she did. One could only hope.
Unfortunately, as she had been about to enter Transfigurations, Malfoy, deciding he didn't notice her there, slid his body against the back of her; knocking her to the side a step. It felt like electricity had zinged up her spine, and instead of succumbing to the need to snap at him, she kept close to Harry as they took their seats.
"No. You're not a bloody coward at all, are you?" Hermione said aloud, laughing softly without mirth; pulling down the collar of her shirt to check the marks on her neck in the mirror. She had escaped to the girl's lavatory immediately after class was over, mumbling a quick excuse to Harry as she did so. Hermione huffed indignantly; the evidence of Malfoy's assault was still very apparent on her skin.
"Who're you talking to, Hermione?"
The brunette jumped and swiftly pulled her collar back up, spinning around to see Ginny Weasley walking up to her.
"Oh, nobody. I was just uh…never-mind it's not important."
The other girl nodded looking puzzled and Hermione opened her mouth without really thinking.
"Ginny, you…you've dated a few guys here right? Like Michael and Dean, and…and now Harry."
The red-head slowly smiled, leaning a hip against the sink and crossing her arms.
"Hermione, are you trying to ask me for relationship advice? Who is he?"
Hermione nearly choked at the question. Relationship, indeed.
"Well, it's no one actually. I just wanted to know what it was like when you…er…kissed them."
Ginny raised a brow and snickered, taking in Granger's mortified face.
"Haven't you never been kissed before?" she asked amused. Hermione blushed, rolling her eyes.
"Of course I have, don't be silly. I did kiss Viktor at the Yule Ball, you know. Wasn't all that great though, kind of clumsy, really. I was just asking if…well, why do you think a boy that you know hates you, just explosively kiss you out of the blue?" Hermione bit her lip, hoping the other girl wouldn't interrogate her for more of an explanation. There was no way in hell that she could admit that the boy was Draco.
Ginny tilted her head to the side, mulling over the question, noting the discomfort of it. She wanted to know more, but she could tell that now wasn't the time.
"Well, it's never happened to me, but if I had to guess, than I would chalk it up to a brewing sexual tension maybe. Then again, maybe he doesn't actually hate you, Hermione."
"Oh believe me, he does. He's made that abundantly clear, and the feeling is mutual." Granger said firmly, honey eyes hardening.
Ginny reached out a hand and rubbed Hermione's arm in a comforting manner.
"If that's all true, then don't worry. It probably won't happen again."
Hermione attempted an agreeable smile, but in her heart, she wasn't so sure.
The trio sat in Hagrid's hut, sipping tea and sharing jokes amongst each other. It was just what Hermione needed to take her mind off her problems. She laughed freely as she watched Ron try to teach Fang to roll over, but the dog would just sit there and wag his tail happily, drooling.
"Ah, forget it." Ron said, giving up on the endeavor, and turning his attention back on the others.
"Can't wait 'til we can finally go to Hogsmeade this weekend," sighed Harry, leaning back in his chair, "We haven't been back long and already the N.E.W.T.s hovering over us is making me claustrophobic."
Ron's face tinged slightly green at the very thought, swallowing a lump of anxiety. He'd been trying not to think about it too much.
"Blimey, don't remind me," he pleaded plaintively, rubbing the back of his neck, "By the way do you guys know for sure what you're gonna do after school ends? Harry, you still going to be an Auror?"
Harry nodded seriously. "That hasn't changed. There's not a doubt in my mind that, that is what I'm meant to do."
"Ron?" Hermione asked. He shrugged.
"Not sure, really. Might work at the Ministry like Dad, I suppose. What about you, Hermione? What will you do?"
She pondered for a moment, and knew they'd both be surprised that the girl, who seemed to have it all together, didn't know what she really wanted out of life. She mimicked Ron's shrug, stirring her now cold tea with her spoon.
"I've thought of several things I could be. A professor maybe, or a healer at St. Mungo's. I haven't decided."
Harry grinned at her, nudging her shoulder with his.
"I wouldn't worry about it much, 'Mione. You've got the rest of the year to figure that out. Besides, whatever you choose, we all know you'll excel at it."
She smiled gratefully in return, and suddenly the door opened and Hagrid stepped through, brushing dirt from his coat.
"Er…sorry 'bout that. Had ter take care of some 'o them ruddy crows out there. Been tryin' ter destroy the pumpkin patch again."
"It's alright, Hagrid, we should probably be on our way anyway. It's getting pretty late," said Hermione glumly, in no real hurry to get back to the castle, but knowing she must.
After saying a farewell to her two best friends, they parted ways. Hermione knew dragging her feet wouldn't put off seeing him for long, but she couldn't help it. She was nervous, but tried to push that aside as the angel and demon guarded portrait came into view. She took a couple of minutes to compose herself, watching as the angel started bickering with the demon, accusing it of cheating at chess to which the horned devil just cackled evilly without a care.
Kind of reminds me of Malfoy and I. Him being the blasted devil of course.
"Dragonsblood." Hermione uttered, breaking up the argument between the two painted foes. They opened the way for her and she shuffled cautiously inside.
She wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all. There, as comfortable as can be, was Malfoy; lounging in one of the more ornate, carved mahogany wood chairs. Still dressed in his expensive black slacks and shoes, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top, his green and silver tie hung loosely around his neck. One ankle rested on his knee, his silver eyes scanning over a page in the Daily Prophet. He didn't move a muscle as she entered, not even looking up from his paper. Hermione decided to count her lucky stars and made for her room.
"Never took you for a coward, Granger," Malfoy's velvety voice drawled, flipping a page. Hermione stopped, shutting her eyes tightly, gritting her teeth.
Should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Don't reply to him. Just keep walking.
"What gives you that idea, Malfoy?" she snapped.
What the hell is wrong with me?
With a flick of his wrist he folded close the newspaper and tossed it onto the small table next to his chair. He rose fluidly to his feet as she turned around to face him. She cringed inside as he came closer, outwardly though, she stood straighter and squared off her shoulders.
"Seems today that the lioness has lost a bit of her bite. You've been running away nearly every time you see me. What else would you call it?" he said, smirking as always, his eyes hooded as he scanned her from head to toe. Hermione scoffed, crossing her arms and tossing her hair back defiantly.
"I'm not bloody scared of you, Malfoy. I don't care to be around people like you so obviously I'm going to avoid you like the plague. Nothing more, nothing less."
His smirk grew, his feet inching him even closer. Hermione mentally cursed herself as she made an involuntary step backwards. Draco lifted a hand and reached out to pluck up one of her silky curls, the tips of his fingers barely grazing her breast. She sucked in a breath, her body frozen. He played with the strands, wrapping them around his fingers as his eyes trapped hers.
"Not scared, eh? You look positively terrified now, Granger."
"Let me go." She demanded, glaring fiercely. He tilted his head to the side, looking as if he were considering her words. His other hand brought his wand up to her face and she couldn't help but flinch, as the wooden tip stroked down her cheek softly. Without warning he muttered a spell and released her. She reared back, her hand going to her face to feel if he had done something horrid.
"What did you do?!" she yelled, then gasped as he calmly lifted a hand to show a long lock of her tawny gold hair in his grasp.
"Claiming a token of yours, Princess. Guess it's too late to ask your permission." He chuckled darkly, stuffing the ill-gotten prize into his pocket. Incensed, she sprung forward and laid another resounding smack across his gloating face. Just as quickly, he looked back at her and grabbed her jaw between his long fingers, squeezing tightly as he brought her face up to his. His nose brushed hers, his breath puffing softly against her lips.
"Didn't learn the first time, Granger? And they say you're the brightest witch of our age." He crushed her lips bruisingly hard, his body forcefully walking her backwards until her back hit her room door with a thud. Her fists came up to pound at his chest, causing his hands to wrap around her wrists and pin them behind her. Draco bit at her, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth when she refused to open for his tongue; her squirming body thrashed against him, inciting his body further.
Hermione felt the hard evidence in Draco's trousers against her belly, horrified that if this didn't stop soon, that maybe he would go way too far. A tear escaped the corner of her eye and she whimpered against his violently plundering mouth. She wrenched her face to the side, dragging air into her deprived lungs. Draco took the opportunity to bury his face in her soft neck, inhaling her vanilla and honey scent deeply into himself. He couldn't get enough of her.
"Draco, please…please." She cried out in a strained voice, shuddering in the cage of his arms. The Slytherin stilled at the use of his name. The sound of it spilling from her lips cutting through the haze of lust clouding his mind. The scent, taste and feel of her luscious body against him had him so hard he wanted to take her right there against her door. He wanted to ride her right into the fucking floor, but his name leaving brokenly from her lips, sobered him. He growled into her neck before slowly raising his head to glare down into her fearful doe eyes. Draco came to a realization. As much as he wanted to take what he needed from Granger, he wanted her willing.
"Don't worry, kitten. I don't care to get into your knickers if that's what's got you all upset. Not tonight anyway." He dropped his hands from her and turned, striding away from her to enter his room, slamming it once again. The last image burned into his mind was her whiskey eyes glistening with crystal tears.
He told himself that he didn't care.
Then why was there a sharp pain in his heart?
A/N: Draco just doesn't seem to get it yet does he? You can't always have everything you want :) Thank you all so so sooooo much for the reviews for last chapter! You will never know how much they all meant to me. I love to see readers get into the story and say that a character needs to stop being an arsehat basically lol
So please, pretty please with Draco on top, keep those reviews coming if you want another chapter!
Until next time!