(3.06.08) I was really stupid and erased this chapter accidentally. Now it's back:-)
We see a side of Draco reserved for Hermione.
Here I go.
Chapter Seven
Malfoy roughly hoisted her atop him as their kiss intensified. The impact was harsh on his recovering ribs; he couldn't withhold groaning sharply.
Hermione abruptly pulled away, the action causing him to wince involuntarily-- her attempt to lessen his pain actually worsening it.
"A groan made clearly out of pleasure--" He offered unconvincingly, leaning up to capture her lips once more despite the surging pain he felt in his chest…
"I care to differ, Mr. Malfoy."
Appalled at being caught in such an inappropriate position, the Head Girl was off Malfoy at once. She was biting her lip while pretending to be absolutely fascinated by smoothing wrinkles from her disheveled robes.
"I can't say I'm surprised." Madame Pomfrey confessed, smiling coyly. "I expected such displays of affection last night, but I suppose that wasn't possible with Mr. Zabini present." She finished, her smile refusing to waver.
"I-I'm going to Potions." Hermione declared, scurrying away without an apologetic glance at her unsatisfied boyfriend.
Shrugging, Malfoy laid back. "We'll continue later."
Madame Pomfrey only giggled as she bustled around the empty Infirmary, absently tidying up. She thought the comment was made only to be taken as a joke… thankfully, she had no idea how affectionate the young couple could be--
000
Her intoxicating scent still lingered; it had been at least three hours since their embrace, though Zabini still smelled her faint presence on his school uniform. While reciting the events of Malfoy's birthday celebration, Pansy became rather emotional. Not being a complete insensitive idiot, Zabini awkwardly pulled his sobbing friend into his strong arms. After a moment she abruptly withdrew from their contact, frantically muttering nonsense about being an absolute mess and retouching her makeup. She ran off, absently insisting that he go to class over her shoulder.
Zabini again found himself at the Hogwarts Infirmary. Immediately after being released for lunch, he hurried to the hospital wing, needing to speak with his best mate.
Sitting up in his hospital bed, Malfoy was devouring his lunch from a tray levitating above his lap.
"Good afternoon." Was he muffled greeting, mouth crammed with a large bite of pork chop.
"Miserable afternoon, really." Zabini replied wretchedly. He hungrily eyed his friend's lunch but resisted the urge to grab the remaining untouched pork chop on the plate.
Their eyes met before Zabini continued. "I don't know if you'll want to hear this…"
Malfoy tore his eyes from his delectable mashed potatoes, hearing the rare tone his best mate was using. A tone of voice Zabini reserved when speaking of the fairer sex, girls. He had worried his housemate would develop a crush on his girl; worried, not anticipated.
"What is it?" Malfoy hissed venomously, loudly dropping his fork; it seemed he already knew what came next...
"We hugged." He croaked out uneasily. "And I felt something." Zabini groaned with obvious frustration. "I felt something!"
The injured Slytherin forcibly shoved the levitating tray aside, sending his plate, goblet, and utensils to the stone floor. The exertion had drained him of the little strength he had, his chest was surging with inconceivable pain-- Malfoy didn't seem to mind, eyeing his best mate viciously. "And you're fucking miserable because she's mine, right? FUCK!" It was unclear whether he was cursing out of frustration or because he finally took notice of the pain. "I'd pummel the shit out of you if I could."
Zabini was frozen by utter confusion but recovered, bravely marching to the intimidating young man-- roughly grabbing both his shoulders. "Only after I've pummeled the life out of myself first…" Zabini wanted to shake Malfoy for his blind jealousy but opted to just tighten his hold on those broad shoulders. "Draco, you've fallen for her, mate, I wouldn't… I will never… do that to you." Zabini was grinning as he released Malfoy from his hold. "Unfortunately talk of sappy nonsense does not cease… I felt an alien sensation when Pansy and I shared an embrace."
Exhaling loudly, Malfoy buried his handsome face into his hands-- he was feeling rather foolish. "You felt something when you hugged Pansy… Fuck, I'm a dick. Blaise--"
He was laughing in response. "It's fine, I understand. You've got reason to be eerily possessive. Granger's fantastic, and she's yours." Zabini paused thoughtfully. "And Pansy was once yours… you haven't got an unhealthy possessive attachment to your exes too, do you?"
Although Malfoy knew Zabini was joking, he deciphered the real question he was asking:
'If I were to pursue Pansy, would the courtship bother you?'
Closing his eyes, the Head Boy recalled the feeling of having Pansy as a girlfriend. "Pansy's pretty amazing." Malfoy looked him over briefly. "I believe you're quite deserving of an amazing girl."
Zabini only shrugged at the remark, a reaction the blond had not expected.
"What's got you so miserable?" Malfoy gestured to the armchair beside his bed, silently asking that he sit.
"I'd rather stand, mate… and pace." And Zabini proceeded to pace. "I'm miserable because I'm flustered over a girl! ME!" Blaise Zabini was never flustered because of a girl-- girls were usually sickeningly flustered in his presence. Knowing Malfoy desired the details pertaining to the events which led up to him pacing in the Infirmary, Zabini launched into an explanation.
"She gave a detailed account of her perspective of your seventeenth birthday celebration… the account opened up old wounds, she cried… I felt idiotic just standing there watching her sob so I hugged her…" He met Malfoy's eyes-- "Drake, we've hugged plenty of times. Why was it different today?"
The injured Slytherin only shook his head. A brief silence fell before Malfoy spoke, avoiding Zabini's eyes. "I can't tell you why it felt different today. Though I know when feelings in a platonic relationship begin changing, avoidance is not the solution. But neither is oversimplifying the situation." He was clearly speaking from experience.
"So, I shouldn't go proclaiming anything to Pansy but I shouldn't ignore what I felt today. I see." Zabini then grinned proudly. "Impressive advice. My best mate, the relationship advisor."
Malfoy forcibly hurled a pillow at him. "You're a fucking comedian, mate." He very sarcastically complimented.
000
Hearing the portrait shut behind her awakened Hermione to her surroundings. Unable to recall just how she arrived at her Heads Common Room (and not really caring), she shrugged (which was difficult with her trademark overstuffed bag weighing a shoulder down), venturing into the spacious sitting room. An assortment of antique (scarlet and emerald) armchairs, a large coffee table, and two black leather sofas occupied the space. At a far corner were two gorgeous desks beside a grand window with a picturesque view of lake, even Hermione took breaks from studying just to enjoy the view.
Her eyes affectionately fell on a particular armchair, situated beside their stunning fireplace. The deep emerald armchair was reserved for a certain Slytherin, an injured Slytherin she missed terribly.
--the armchair was occupied.
"I didn't quite believe Madame Pomfrey when she said you strangely vanished." She hastily dropped her bag on the coffee table as she neared him.
"My ribs have healed excellently." He informed her, grabbing her hands once she was close enough.
"Oh?" She interlocked their fingers, allowing him to pull her onto his lap.
"I'll prove it to you." Malfoy promised hungrily; their lips met, both eager to continue what was interrupted earlier in the Infirmary. They rediscovered the sensation of their bodies intimately touching without the worry of irritating his injury.
They stood; bodies desperate to feel skin on skin, annoyed with the layers of clothing separating them.
"My bed or yours?"
She wrapped her slim arms around his neck. "Does it matter?" On the tips of her toes, she reinitiated the contact between their lips. Their tongues never tired of exploring the other. Robes were discarded onto the hardwood flooring as they unconsciously traveled to the closest Heads suite.
Hermione only realized she was no longer standing once she felt his cool silk sheets against her nearly bare back, clad only in her bra and panties.
He trailed kisses from her slender neck down to a naked hipbone; Malfoy took notice of her panties--
"I can recall asking to see proof of your support for my Quidditch team…" He tugged her underwear down slowly. "…these--" He briefly displayed the scarlet thong to her. "--are clearly Gryffindor-spirited." Malfoy then tossed it over his shoulder.
She moaned softly as he caressed her inner thighs--
"You must be reminded…" Hermione began, expertly gripping his boxers with her toes. "… you're sleeping with a lioness."
Malfoy hissed when she freed his arousal from its confinement. He gave no response to her declaration; with skill, he unexpectedly entered her.
Hermione instinctively arched into him, welcoming him back inside her.
000
Zabini absently prodded his partially-eaten steak with a fork, disregarding the company of acquaintances and their poor attempts at initiating a conversation with him. He felt deranged, Pansy's scent had faded from his robes ages ago but suddenly he felt heavily intoxicated by her smell. Zabini had forgotten he was in the Great Hall, having dinner-- lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize her scent returned to his nostrils only because she sat directly across him (not just because he was thoughts were on her).
"Zabini!" Pansy called his surname for the second time. "BLAISE!"
Finally realizing he wasn't delusional, he looked up from his plate.
Her dark hair hung just above her shoulders, framing her arguably beautiful face. Without the heavy makeup, she was absolutely striking… But Pansy Parkinson hid her natural beauty beneath a dreadfully heavy eye shadow/eyeliner combination, unneeded blush, and several coats of lip gloss. Although it seemed for the remainder of the day, after the infamous embrace she shared with Zabini, Pansy didn't reapply her expensive cosmetics. Her eyes sparkled brilliantly, not hidden by the eye make up…defined cheekbones more evident…succulent lips extremely kissable--
She met his gaze as she brushed her bangs behind her ear. "Draco's been released."
Zabini eyes scanned the Slytherin table before shifting his gaze back to her. "However, he's not at dinner…" He cocked a knowing eyebrow.
"I reckon he's already had his dinner." Pansy grabbed an uneaten roll on his plate.
He shoved his plate away, loudly pretending to vomit. "I am thoroughly disgusted!"
Openly rolling her eyes, she took a bite of the roll as she stood. "You ready to go see him?"
Barely nodding, he followed her out of the Great Hall before continuing their conversation. "You still care for him, don't you?"
For a few moments, their footsteps and the distant buzz of conversation from the Great Hall hid her lack of response--
"I'll always care about him." She admitted softly. "But I haven't romantically cared for him since--"
"Since you witnessed their first kiss?" Zabini paused. "And by first kiss I mean one that didn't involve vomit…"
"Pardon?" When he only shook his head in response, Pansy decided to continue answering his question. "You'd think watching him kiss another girl would ease the process of letting go, but Blaise I tightened my hold on that relationship… and he pushed me away even further…" Zabini knew she had paused to compose herself, she did a poor job of silencing a sniffle. "Our tradition of spending our summer at Malfoy Manor was postponed due to your trip to Egypt. I decided to benefit from your absence by arriving at the manor a week earlier than scheduled. I was desperate to salvage what was left of our relationship… Had I known she'd be there… I really didn't think she'd be there…"
Flashback:
"Ziggy, I expect my luggage to be at Malfoy Manor no later than dinnertime, understood?" Without sending her house-elf a glance, Pansy continued studying her reflection with a satisfied smile. Her designer robes were complemented by her dark hair, and as always her makeup was flawless. It was ten in the morning, Malfoy would just be rousing from his sleep. She planned to Apparate to his incredible bathroom. In the past, she would Apparate to the extravagant foyer of Malfoy Manor but a formal arrival always denied the couple their desire to properly greet one another. Narcissa Malfoy disliked Pansy's excessive displays of affection for her son. Apparition to his bathroom was informal and unladylike to Mrs. Malfoy but convenient to Pansy.
--Quietly closing the door to his bathroom, Pansy entered his predictably dark bedroom. She always hated his drapes; waking up, she never knew whether it was still nighttime or morning.
Waving her wand, she separated the concealing drapes. Sunlight flooded the grand chambers of Draco Malfoy--
"Those drapes, Draco…"
Her remark was drowned out by moaning, grunting, and bodies rhythmically shifting against sheets. But those sounds vanished so suddenly she almost believed she simply imagined the noises. Pansy's eyes moved to his bed--
Only his body covered Hermione's naked body, evidently his blankets had been kicked to the floor during their lovemaking--
"Pansy…" Malfoy croaked awkwardly. She swallowed a sob, watching him bury his face into Hermione's hair, clearly praying their intruder would leave.
"I may have caught you performing the worst act of infidelity…" She began unsteadily, the battle with her tears utterly audible. "And I can leave, allowing you to remorselessly continue being unfaithful… but you don't deserve to have me leave, Draco… you will not avoid this confrontation." Pansy was crying, Malfoy was convinced she was incapable of the act. "You've denied me of your heart and your fidelity, Draco. Will you deny me of a confrontation too?" Her eyes frantically searched the floor for his underwear-- locating his silk boxers, she forcibly threw the underwear onto the bed. "Get dressed. We'll meet at the South Veranda."
Where she went after leaving Malfoy's chambers was a very vague recollection to her. She could recall heading to the South Veranda but then suddenly entered the nearest bedroom. Pansy slid down the wall, muffling her wails with her hand. She cried until she felt as if all the fluid in her body had exited through her eyes in the form of tears… Inspiringly, she mustered enough strength to recompose herself; reapplication of her makeup concealed her breakdown.
...Reaching the manor's foyer, Pansy was greeted by a house-elf.
"I shall escort you to the South Veranda, Miss Pansy."
She merely nodded, following the creature.
The South Veranda overlooked the extensive Malfoy gardens, truly magnificent views. In the past, Pansy and Malfoy enjoyed many breakfasts at this veranda.
Clad in a black silk morning robe, Malfoy was seated at a beautifully dressed table. The Malfoys preferred to dine in extravagance-- even the breakfast table required such lavishness. The cream tablecloth blew in the soft breeze, as did Malfoy's tousled hair.
The table was set for two; across him was a seat she assumed was hers. She ignored the reality of the seat truly being Hermione's, clearly the breakfast was intended for them.
As she sat, he did not acknowledge her presence. Malfoy simply continued to stir his coffee while he blankly stared at the stunning gardens.
"You couldn't even look at me while you were in bed with her…" She hissed, wanting so badly to obtain his attention-- or even just some sort of acknowledgment, was she no longer worthy ? "And now you've fooled yourself into thinking your coffee is more captivating than my presence! Look at me, Draco!" Pansy heard herself sounding so regrettably pathetic but she didn't care. "The least you can do is look at me."
Malfoy gave a hollow laugh. "I've been unable to really look at you for months--"
Finally, their eyes met.
He suddenly reached across the table, placing his hand on hers.
Pansy relished the feel of his skin against hers, she couldn't recall when their hands touched last--
"Fuck, Pansy, I adore you." She almost smiled, but he had more to say. "You're my best friend…"
"GIRLFRIEND!" Insulted, she instantly withdrew from his touch before violently destroying the magnificence of the table, everything shattered to the floor-- including what was left of her heart. "I'm your girlfriend."
"You really want to be with me? I'm falling for her--" Malfoy paused abruptly, for once having spoken of his intensifying feelings for Hermione aloud. "Shit, I'm falling for her…"
End Flashback.
000
Malfoy rested his forehead against hers, watching her experience an explosive orgasm even as he emptied himself inside her. He felt her shaking beneath him; at long last she opened her eyes.
Hermione slightly sat up, only to gently touch her lips to his-- although the kiss quickly intensified. Ending the contact, her head met a plush pillow, she was exhausted. His lips moved to her wrist, she brushed stray damp hairs from his forehead.
"I missed you last night, Granger." He confessed sleepily.
"Was it me you missed, or was it the sex, Draco Malfoy?"
Eyeing her oddly, he rolled off her. "You can't be serious…"
Hermione gingerly laid her head on his toned chest, silently apologizing for the unneeded remark. "You know I missed you, Draco."
After a moment he wrapped a chiseled arm around her, she was forgiven.
Thinking his lack of response meant he was already retiring for the evening, Hermione pulled his thick blanket over their naked, sweaty bodies.
"Hermione…" He began sounding three-fourths asleep. "… in the past, it never bothered me that you doubted my intentions--" Malfoy yawned loudly, he was always most truthful during the moments right before he fell asleep. "… surely being with me so long has erased those doubts."
She nearly replied but his soft snore indicated her boyfriend hadn't resisted sleep to hear her answer. Hermione sincerely doubted his intentions only once…all right, three times but all the doubting occurred the day following his party. And by the evening, Malfoy managed to obliterate those doubts…
Flashback.
Adjusting her tousled uniform and struggling to support the weight of her bag, she rushed through an empty corridor.
Hermione Granger overslept.
And she was late for Transfiguration.
Twisting the large doorknob, she steadied her breathing, lazily ran a hand through her messy curls, and prayed the door would not creak--
-- and indeed the door creaked--
In turn, McGonagall halted her lecture just to address the tardy Gryffindor.
"So nice of you to join, Miss Granger." The professor eyed her sternly as the reddening Hermione closed the door. "It should be fairly comforting to know you are not alone in your tardiness. Last night's celebrant made his delayed attendance moments ago." She sent the front row of desks a withering glare.
Following her professor's glare, Hermione found Draco Malfoy-- sagging down his seat; he made lying down on a chair seem possible.
And beside him was the only empty seat.
Resisting the urge to whimper, she strutted down the aisle. Without acknowledging him, Hermione discarded her bag onto the desk before sitting.
As McGonagall lectured, Malfoy sent her discreet glances-- glances not even the fastest seeker could catch. Glances only the one being discreetly glanced at could discreetly notice. She felt his eyes linger on her longer than usual-- she nearly questioned him with her eyes but refrained.
Five minutes before the end of class, they were instructed to discuss and practice what they learned from the lecture with their partners-- obviously Malfoy was her partner. Only when the classroom erupted with the buzz of separate conversations did Hermione finally speak to him, but she still did not meet his gaze.
"Goodnight." She said through gritted teeth.
His eyes lazily fell on her. "Excuse me?"
Hermione furiously met his blank stare. "Goodnight was what you could have said rather than just scuttling away last night--" She distantly heard McGonagall dismissing the class. "And goodbye." She blindly packed her belongings.
Malfoy grabbed her arm, keeping her from disappearing into the crowd of departing Gryffindors and Slytherins.
"Had it been my choice, I would not have needed to say goodnight." He was smirking.
She violently freed herself from his touch, disgusted. "And I've heard what I needed to hear, Draco."
McGonagall, although unaware of the subject of their argument, nearly intervened-- seeing the fierce rage in both the faces of her students.
Sensing this, Hermione promptly walked away, heart pounding and heartbroken. She didn't see him lean against a wall, eyes closed (and disregarding the odd look he was receiving from his professor), cursing beneath his breathe.
She completely misunderstood him.
000
Although Hermione was not late to the Prefects meeting, somehow she and Malfoy were once again seated by one another. She was almost disappointed, he had not attempted to acquire her attention-- no glances, not even one. Was he even aware she was sitting beside him?
As she intently listened to the words of the Head Boy and Head Girl, Hermione scribbled down what she found important. She abruptly spilled her ink-- as she dipped her quill into her inkwell, she felt his hand plant itself on her thigh. The force of her shock (she instinctively lurched forward, of course spilling her ink, in attempt to escape the unwelcome touch she felt) caused her to ruin the page of notes she had taken. Cleaning the mess, she nearly forgot what caused the incident. But underneath the conveniently concealing table, his hand began to move (well…she foolishly thought his hand moved; still expecting the worst from him).
Hermione desperately placed her hands above the area she knew Malfoy was after-- the area between her thighs; his pursuit continued, slowly his hand crept closer to its destination. His despicable behavior was proof of his desire to have her body, only her body. Unwilling to surrender to him, Hermione nearly stood up-- but his hand's journey was finished.
She blushed deeply, feeling him lace his fingers through hers... Draco Malfoy was holding her hand. Hermione hadn't realized his hand had only embarked on the journey once her hands returned to her lap. During Transfiguration, he had purposely observed where her hands went after note taking; long before the Prefects meeting, he decided her lap would be the location of his capture. Strategic but greatly (and reasonably) misinterpreted by the suspicious Gryffindor. What mattered was her misinterpretation was successfully countered, judging from lovely shade of red coloring her face. Returning her hands to her lap (although the purpose of the return was to shield herself from his misinterpreted intentions) was his invitation to launch the plan he developed shortly following their last conversation.
His hand felt a bit like parchment; Hermione then smiled stupidly, suddenly aware he had skillfully slipped a piece of parchment into her hand.
She expected him to withdraw from the contact, having successfully delivered the note-- she didn't know he was expecting her to cease the handholding.
Neither withdrew.
…As the meeting continued, her hand remained in his.
Rewrote this in two days! YES. Erasing the other version was really a blessing in disguise because I really didn't want to do the Harry/Pansy relationship. I was going to use it to soften the shock of the news of Hermione and Draco's relationship, but I've thought of solid idea for that and no longer need the Pansy/Harry pairing. Nothing else has changed with the plot except I will NOT be pairing Harry and Pansy together.
