HERMIONE
It seems that a magical room can't be burned by fiendfyre… at least a magical room in Hogwarts can't.
Because the Room Of Requirement is still fully functional.
It was a long shot to try.
I felt almost stupid pacing back and forth thinking: I need a room where I can study magic with Malfoy.
The space it gave us made me blush…
Can a room have a dirty mind? or is it my mind that was dirty when I wished for this?
Because the room gave us space yes... it gave us a room with a fireplace, cozy armchairs and a sofa, shelves full of books, parchments and quills and even a window that gave in "natural" light, but also a huge poster bed…
Where would we need a bed while studying?
There was also another room; empty…a place to put things in practice.
But I don't get to explore further because as soon as the door slams shut behind us. You shove me into the wall, kissing me like drowning man breaths for air.
Both of your hands are in my hair and you're holding on like I'm about to slip away any minute.
"Hermione…" You whisper as you kiss my neck…
It's still hard, still needy, still lustful like before…But this time it feels somehow more desperate...
Like you need to feel it's me you're kissing…
My name leaves your lips like a prayer… over and over again…
And it makes this feel a hundred times more intimate… and it makes this a hundred times more dangerous…
Because you, holding me like this…makes me feel things I'm not supposed to feel…
How are we supposed to study? When all we repeatedly keep doing is ending up tearing each other's clothes off?
But when you toss me to the bed, I don't really care…
not about studying…
or about why we are doing this, again…
or what I'm feeling for you…
At the moment all I'll ever need is your lips on mine...
your hands on my body...
...and your cock inside of me.
Will you listen to this? All that the brightest-witch-of-our-age needs….
…Oh, how the mighty have fallen…
.
.
.
You are brilliant!
I mean, I knew you were only second to me in our classes, but I never paid attention how much you really knew.
Suddenly I realize I've known nothing about living with magic your whole life.
Living…not in magic like the Weasleys or Neville…but for magic…with ambition and goals!
With a need to prove your power...
You tell me things your parents and tutors have told you… share with me knowledge I've never possessed before…
And I can't help but think how much easier my life… and especially learning new things… would have been if I'd been taught these things first thing in our first year.
We sit in the middle of our empty training room.
Legs crossed, and eyes closed as you tell me how to feel my magic.
"A wand is only a way to channel it." You tell me with a voice, almost a whisper, "It's within you, and only if you learn to harness it, you can control it fully. It's easier with a wand… but way more powerful without…"
I can't find it though…
I'm not sure how I'm supposed to separate the feel of magic from everything else I'm feeling…
So, after a long while of feeling like an idiot… and a failure… I give up.
"I can't! It's not…I can't find it!" I sigh loudly.
As I open my eyes I find you looking at me with a crooked smile… amused by my frustration.
"Did you think it would be easy Granger?" There's a slightly mocking tone in your voice, "If it was easy everyone would do it."
"Can't be that hard…you've learned it!" I huff.
"I've been practicing since I was three. And I'm especially talented"
I glare at you: "Unfair!"
You laugh…
I can't help how my insides get all soft and my mind foggy when you laugh…
I'm a goddamn basket case!
You give my wand back to me, "Do you remember how it felt when you first held the right wand in your hand?"
I nod, how could I forget…
"Search for that feeling… because that was your magic, called by your wand"
I close my eyes again and think…
Think of the soar of magic… the way the energy seemed to flow through my fingers into the wand…
how it felt to cast the first simple spell…
Suddenly you're behind me, whispering, "Call for it."
And despite the distraction the proximity of you gives me… I do feel it:
The warm electric sizzle in my veins rising from my toes and speeding towards where my hand touches the wand.
"Drop the wand, hold the feeling." You order close to my ear.
I inhale…
…and my wand clatters to the ground.
I stare at my fingers and almost expect to see lightnings, because that's how it feels…like my fingers are charged.
"There."
I smile at you victoriously, " I found it!"
"Now you just have to learn to use it… piece of cake" There's sarcasm in your voice…
Like I don't know it's going to be hard work!
Besides, we have all the other subjects to learn too… and only a few months to learn them…
You'd laugh if you knew what I was thinking….
Then again, on second thought, I do like it when you laugh…
.
.
.
Twice a week we can manage.
To sneak away from our friends with good enough of an excuse…
Twice a week and your friends won't look for you…
Twice, and my friends (aka. Ginny, because she's the only one who knows where I really am.) won't start to lecture me…
We read
and talk
and analyze
and practice
and debate
…and fuck.
A lot…
With the pale light of the artificial window, or the flames in the fireplace, lighting our room.
It's like our own substitute reality.
I step into this room and stop carrying all the roles I carry days in and out.
Like we strip each other, we strip our roles… and the faces we carry...
No past, no future…
just me…
and just you.
And our world of all the things we can learn about magic… and each other.
As weeks go by I begin to know you so well I don't need to wonder what it is you're thinking.
The ways you move,
twist your arms,
snap your mouth shut,
use sarcasm,
smile…
…Are enough to tell me what you think and how you feel.
And the magic we learn… it's unlike anyone could ever teach me.
Because we do it together, combining my knowledge of theory and yours of practice...
Sometimes I feel, that given enough time, we could be invincible.
I was a good witch before you taught me to harness my magic...
You were a good wizard before I taught you to emphasize your spells…
Compared to what we know after three months…we were just beginners!
The spells get harder and harder… so do the victories...
And after managing yet another new thing... l throw my arms around your neck and kiss you freely…
Like you're mine…
And you push me on the bed, lace our fingers together, kiss me deeply when you come…
and pull me close afterwards…
Like I'm yours…
Somewhere deep inside I know it's an illusion…
…That it has to end when the school year ends.
But I just can't bring myself to care.
.
.
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DRACO
I've never felt at ease.
My world has always been about keeping up appearances… one way or another.
Being a good Malfoy, a good son, a good Slytherin… a good Death Eater…
I was taught to care what other people think of me…
I was trained to keep the mask on…
And I kept it on for so long I thought it was how my face looked like...
But with you...
When your eyes shine in awe as you learn something new.
When you laugh and hit me playfully when you think I've said something stupid.
When you look at me doubtfully as I tell you something you don't believe outright.
When you tell me something with your ordering know-it-all-tone.
When you look at me like you're impressed… or like you liked what you saw…
When you curl against me like I could keep you safe…
I feel the mask slipping…
And when you call my name… it doesn't even sound like my name...
it sounds like a name belonging to someone…
decent…
someone worthy of you…
In our room I'm stripped bare… no masks…no walls… nothing…
And it feels good…
to be Draco Malfoy…
Just Draco Malfoy…
nothing more.
But there is a problem…
That Draco Malfoy loves Hermione Granger…
That Draco Malfoy who thought he'd never know love…
Loves the way she laughs…
the way she rants…
the way she puts her everything into learning new things…
the way she matches his intelligence… and his sarcasm...
The way she is exactly who she is…nothing less, nothing more…
And the problem is that, that Draco Malfoy can not exist outside of the room...
He…
I…
Me…
The Draco Malfoy outside of our room, is not brave enough…
The Draco Malfoy… the trained puppet… the fucking coward… is not brave enough to love Hermione Granger… the Golden girl… the heroine…
He is still marrying Astoria Greengrass, the perfect trophy wife, who he will never love…
And it's a fucking tragedy.
