4
As Hermione left 20 minutes later cursing ancient ruins Malfoy was actually a little sad to see her go.
He stuck with what he had told her about needing her as a distraction, a helping hand so to speak. Yet lately she was on his mind more than the cabinet was, and that was a problem.
He had a free period and he should have been working but instead he was thinking of how to get Granger, Hermione, alone again. He was thinking of more ways to make her say his name. He was thinking about how beautiful her body looked.
Malfoy sat up straight. This was Granger. She was a mudblood! She was Potters brain. She was into the weasel!
Malfoy finished buttoning his shirt and exited the room only to return minutes later into the room of lost things.
The cabinet, it always came back to the cabinet. He had to fix it. There was no way around it. His life, his family's life, honor there was no other choice.
And yet... A face swam to the front of his mind, Hermione's face. Granger! He corrected himself but it didn't make a difference. Her face still came to mind and so did her body. She hid it well but underneath all those clothes was a hot babe.
Malfoy stood in front of the cabinet for a few more minutes blankly before sinking to the ground hopelessly. He was never going to be able to finish the cabinet! He was going to die. He would never see Hermione again.
He sat up. The last thought had startled him. The last person her though he would be thinking of was Granger. Sure when she had punched him third year he had found her exponentially hotter. Yes he had stared at her a little longer than necessary at the Yule ball. And fifth year he had thought silently "if only she was a pure blood..."
He never thought he'd have sex with her. He never thought he'd get to. He never thought he'd be worrying what she thought of him; she was the smartest witch of her age, yet he couldn't help it. He couldn't help any of it. Despite himself he had feelings for a mudblood, a Muggle, and he couldn't help it. They had fun together and they had great sex.
He smiled slightly then got to his feet. Just then his dark mark burned slightly. It wasn't a call but more of a reminder. Time was ticking, his death was coming. He had only wanted to please his parents; he had only wanted to escape death. It wasn't as if he asked, as if he has a choice, to become a death eater. And now it was worse than he had expected.
He stood tall and faced the cabinet. If it bought him time he would try. He needed more time with her, now that he has realized it was like a disease; he needed to see her. He would work on the cabinet to be with her and work on her so she would want to be with him.
In his stressed, fried, scared and lustful mind it all made sense. He did need to live to stay with her after all.
Another short-ish chapter but I wanted to write from Malfoy's perspective. I also feel like in his depression and fear he would have a much different look on his and Hermione's relationship. She just wants fun, but he wants to feel good about himself because he knows he's supposed to be killing Dumbledore and he hates that.