A/N: Takes place during their 6th year incase I didn't make that clear towards the beginning!

The Aftermath

Draco Malfoy

Draco groaned and rolled over in his bed. The light streamed from under his closed drapes making his recurring headache throb dully at the back of his skull. If he wanted breakfast he needed to begin getting ready now, but all he could find the energy to do was grab a pillow and place it over his face which intensified the headache a great deal. "For Merlin's sake..." he grumbled under his breath.

He rolled his eyes at the movement on the other side of the drapes. The muffled yawns and shuffling of feet did nothing to improve his mood, but only succeeded in making him want to sleep through first period, maybe even second if he wasn't feeling hot. No, he at least had to show up the first couple of days to get used to his new schedule. Besides, if anyone saw him moping about in his dormitory all day he'd have hell to pay, especially if his Father found out.

He removed the pillow from his face and sat up before he slid out of his bed and opened his drapes. Wiping the sleep off of his face he made his way to the washroom and prayed for his headache to dissipate.

A good forty-five minutes later he sat at the Slytherin table eating breakfast-or, trying to at least. Between Pansy all over his left side and Blaise staring her down like she was the most hated being on the planet, it was hard for him to digest anything without his headache obscuring his thoughts. If he could just go somewhere quiet and not be troubled by anyone, including himself, he was absolutely sure he would feel at least fifty percent better.

He brought his fork up to his mouth, not really caring what was on it but praying that it would help his current condition at least a little. Before he could even fully open his mouth Pansy yanked on his arm. Draco suppressed a sigh and tried to make sure his glance didn't look too withering. not that he even cared at the moment. He felt as if he had been hit by a train, or at least gotten hexed quite a few times.

"What is it, Pans?" he asked blandly.

"I was just wondering if you were all right, Draco, you look rather... ill." She sounded concerned, but figuring out whether it was in his best interest or hers was the problem.

"I'll be fine. It's only a head-"

"Are you sure you don't want to see Madam Pomfrey? There's still time before first hour. I wouldn't mind walking you there." Her eyes met his steadily, and Draco knew she wanted to talk in private, but blimey! Couldn't she see he wasn't in the mood to deal with her right now? All she would get from talking to him would be disappointment and hurt feelings.

Draco absently broke away from her scheming eyes and turned his attention to his food that had hardly been touched. "I'm sure, but thanks anyways. I can always count on you to have my best interest in mind..." Unfortunately, he realized his mistake after it left his mouth.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded while dropping his arm and sliding away from him in anger. "I've done nothing but be a caring girlfriend to you and this is how you treat me? I know you're not feeling well, but that's no excuse!"

"Oh, is that what you call yourself?" he murmured as he pushed his plate away and stood up from the table. His eyes quickly scanned the Great Hall and landed on a pair of brown ones riddled with confusion. Granger looked down quickly and busied herself with a book. He tore his eyes away from her and to the huge doors that were now his next destination.

Pansy made an indignant noise and spun around to face him. "Where do you think you're going?" she asked, sounding downright outraged.

"Anywhere else." he replied before rubbing his temples and walking off.

Hermione Granger

Quite frankly, Hermione hadn't even noticed Malfoy enter the Great Hall, so when he rose from his seat nearly directly across from her she was shocked. The memories from just mere hours ago bombarded her until she was left staring at him like a fish out of water. Only, when she looked up at him he was already staring at her. Her heart lurched and her face began to heat up as she fumbled around and focused on an Advanced Potions book. But her eyes didn't even see the words. Her mind was elsewhere, focused on someone it shouldn't have even been thinking of.

She felt herself smile smugly as she realized Malfoy must've been having a little disagreement with Parkinson. He didn't look like he was feeling too well either. Another smirk. Served him right. She quickly glanced up and watched his lean retreating figure walk out of the dining hall.

Harry caught line of her sight and stared after him. "Wonder what he's up to this time," he muttered. "I swear, every year he acts even more suspicious than the last. It's a wonder Dumbledore hasn't put a stop to him, yet."

Ron nodded in agreement, too busy indulging himself with food to really do much else.

"Harry," began Hermione, "I know how you feel about Malfoy, and it's not really fair for us to make assumptions, but maybe it is best to keep an eye on him. Especially with the war on it's way... Something is bound to happen, soon."

His green eyes met hers for the first time in days. "You're right, 'Mione." It wasn't quite an apology, but it was close enough for now.

She gave him a small smile and shut her book. "Of course I am," she teased as she nudged at his arm. She stood up and grabbed her bag. "I need to return some books to the library, but I'll see you in Potions class."

Ron and Harry nodded, so with one last "See you!" she walked out of the dining hall and began making her way to the library.

About halfway down the hall leading to the library she saw someone looking out of one of the windows. It wasn't until she got closer that she realized it was Malfoy. Dread clouded her mind and she froze dead in her tracks, nearly dropping her books as she began to suddenly feel faint. His back was turned to her, but his suited figure was just as threatening. He seemed lost in thought. Maybe she could slip past him without causing a scene.

She took a steadying breath, raised her head, and began closing the distance between them. If she could just make it a few more yards she'd be at the library doors and-

"Granger."

Hermione's stomach jolted nervously. He turned his face towards her, not moving away from the window, but not exactly letting her presence go unnoticed. He looked tired beyond belief. The vibrant early morning sunlight made his gray eyes look gentle, or maybe he just didn't have the energy to fight at the moment. She glanced at him briefly, but continued walking as if he were the last thing on her mind.

"Granger," he repeated, sounding more dangerous and less tired. "Don't walk away from me."

She spun on her heels and made her way back to him, making sure to stop at least two feet away. She would not be cornered in broad daylight. Not by him. Not again. "Or you'll do what? From the looks of things you didn't even have the energy to put up with Parkinson, let alone hand out repercussions." Her voice came out steadily, led on by his slightly weakened appearance. It wasn't until he turned to fully face her and stepped away from the window that she realized she shouldn't have challenged him.

There was an air of seriousness around him, and the same fright from last night crept back into her bones. She didn't dare move, didn't dare take one step away from him. He came closer and closer until finally his scent overwhelmed her. A wave of nostalgia came over her, causing her to inhale sharply much to her demise. Where had she smelled that scent before? That masculine scent, so sweet and thick that it clouded her mind.

"You sure about that, Granger?" He questioned, his voice managing to remain condescending yet civil at the same time.

She gave a sharp nod, refusing to give up her dignity even if it would cost her. She let out a small whimper as his hand rose to her arm, the same one he had grabbed the night before.

"I'll show you just how much energy I have." he growled as he pushed her against the window.

Her bag dropped and the book she had been holding in her hand landed on the ground with a light thud. She didn't even look down. "Is that all?" She feigned boredom and rolled her eyes, careful to look anywhere but at him. His chest was pressed against her again, and his scent was all she could really seem to focus on. She could feel his cold eyes boring into her skull. Her chest was heaving up and down from anticipation and fear.

She slowly met his eyes, now a stormy grey from irritation, and silently dared him to do his worst. They might've stood like that for seconds, or minutes, until he finally broke their gaze. Hermione froze, not even daring to breath as his hand unclenched from her arm and travelled up to her neck. She swallowed thickly and blinked rapidly due to her confusion. He wouldn't strangle her would he? No, not here. He couldn't.

She opened her mouth, and was about to ask what he was doing when his lips suddenly crashed down on hers.

She pressed her body as closely to the windowed ledge as possible without fear of shattering it and pushed against his chest. Hermione doubted he even noticed. She pushed again, harder, but found that her body didn't really want to move away from him. Malfoy was warm, and his scent was nearly intoxicating. His lips were pressing against hers roughly, almost as if he were trying to take in the very essence of her. As if it were possible to force the part of her that was tainted out of her veins. His tongue ran lightly over her bottom lip and he felt her tremble beneath him. Her hands were still weakly pushing against his chest, but as he forced her mouth open with his wandering tongue they slid up around his shoulders.

And then Hermione did something she never in a million years thought she would do. She kissed him back. She kissed him for every time he had called her a mudblood, for every time he sneered at her in the halls, for every punch he'd thrown at Harry and Ron. All she could feel was his lean figure pressing against hers and their tongues dancing between their lips and she couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand wanting him, even if for a moment. He tasted almost as good as he smelled. She couldn't exactly place it, but it was faintly sweet.

Sweet insanity, perhaps. This was wrong, so terribly wrong, but for once she didn't care, especially as his other hand began roaming around her body. He grabbed her left breast roughly, causing her to gasp and pull away. "Malfoy-" But her words had been stolen by his lips as he placed them over hers once more. But I hate you! You hate me too, and you'll realize that as soon as you snap out of whatever this is.

Her mouth was destined to be red beyond belief, and her pride long gone, but he kissed her with such a hunger, such a force that she couldn't deny him. His lips moved against hers almost frantically, as if he were silently trying to prove a point, and Hermione didn't mind. She had never been kissed before, especially not like this.

Her heart was pounding so hard that she was certain he could feel it through her chest, could hear it in her labored breaths... and then the bell rang. She pulled away, pushing him off and sliding out from the confined space he held her in. She practically dove for her dropped things and shoved the forgotten book in her bag.

When she looked up Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. Merlin, she'd never hated anyone as much as she had in that moment.

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