Hi Hi! I know I've been writing so much lately, and I hope it continues! I have so many ideas for this story and am just in a hurry to get it moving.
Meow I love Dramione.
Review/Follow/Favorite!
Thank you all for reading!
Look for 11 coming very very soon.
You've gone completely bonkers.
Wonderful, Hermione, you're kissing the person who's sworn to kill you and hates you along with everything that you stand for.
The snarky ignorant asshole who's devoted his time at Hogwarts to ruining your life.
Brilliant.
Draco's arms snaked around her waist, drawing her closer to him, a sense of urgency to his movements. Years of quidditch had molded strong and capable muscles.
He's not ugly by any means. He's just the most pathetic creature you know.
Hermione closed her eyes, losing herself for just a moment in the embrace. She couldn't deny that the contact after such an anxiety-filled few days was intoxicating. But where was this coming from? Were the pair simply trying to fill a void?
Or was this something more?
"Malfoy-" Hermione sighed into the blonde's mouth. She pulled back a few inches from his face, studying his expression and waiting for the inevitable moment that he snapped back to reality.
The pale grey eyes in front of her slowly changed from foggy and lust-filled, and as he came back to the present, realizing the situation, they were once again the stormy and hate-filled eyes she had known for years.
Draco was horrified.
He stepped away from Hermione, his face riddled with disgust.
"What are you playing at, Mudblood?" He asked, panicked. Of course he knew that he had started it all, had been the one to make the first move, to make contact. But it was wrong. He felt dirty. Embarrassed.
He imagined his father's reaction. His dead father. Tears once again welled within his eyes. He'd be disowned for this. Granger was below him. Granger was a lesser being. Granger was no better than dirt. This is what he had been taught his entire life. If this was true, why did she make him feel this way?
Why did the sensation of her skin upon his create sparks?
Why did her lips upon his relax him?
Why did he want so incredibly to touch her again?
Why did a Mudblood ignite something within him that he'd never felt before?
Something's wrong with me. I've gone mental. I don't deserve to be alive. No person of my status should ever feel this way towards a Mudblood. I've ruined my purity.
He couldn't draw his eyes from Hermione. Though her face was still riddled with bruises, marks he still hadn't forgiven himself for inflicting on her, she was beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed, and lips slightly swollen from the contact. She still breathed heavily, clearly still affected by his presence. Her hair fell over her shoulders, tapering out above her shapely breasts. He'd never seen her in this way before. She suddenly seemed human.
"I knew you weren't like them, Malfoy." Hermione said simply, relaxing against the kitchen wall.
Draco scoffed.
She watched his eyes dart back and forth, up and down her body. She could see his conflicted-ness all over his face.
"You don't know what I am, Granger. Don't act like such an insufferable know-it-all." He spat at her, rolling his eyes.
"I'm getting sick of your pitiful and ignorant façade. Why you aspire to be such a cruel and intolerant person escapes me." She shot back.
Hermione knew that the Malfoy she was talking to now wasn't the true one. She knew that he wasn't as awful as the rest of the Death Eaters. He wasn't like his family. He was simply in way over his head. However, cowardice wasn't something that she could ever understand. She knew that when Bellatrix, Voldemort, or whomever came knocking, Draco would do anything to save himself. He wouldn't bat an eye towards her. Not unless she could convince him to sway.
He'd been the one to kiss her. He'd been the one to seek the comfort of her touch.
Maybe Hermione was too much of an overachiever, but she felt that this was something she could do.
I'll take it upon myself. I haven't got long. I'll show him that Muggle-borns are people that matter just as much as he does. I won't waste this time, whether it be mere hours or many days.
She stole a glance at the kitchen's clock.
It was a quarter past one. Half of the night had already escaped them, and she could feel the exhaustion creeping up on her.
She eyed the wand that Draco had forgotten about, laying by the letters on the kitchen table.
"You won't be sleeping anywhere near me tonight, Granger. Find somewhere to go, and don't touch anything that belongs to my family. Don't fucking bother me. And don't run off." Draco said rudely, as he turned on his heel and walked to his bedroom. He slammed the door behind him.
The house was freezing.
He lit the fireplace with a silent incantation, and closed his eyes, letting his skin drink in the warmth.
He laid down on top of his bed, propped up on a few pillows.
The events of the day had been overwhelming, and he was yet again exhausted. He'd never felt more ashamed of himself.
I'm an embarrassment to the wizarding world. I'm useless. I deserve to die.
The self deprecating thoughts continued for hours, until his eyes eventually grew too heavy to keep open. Laying there, in that mental state between sleep and wakefulness, Draco's mind wandered.
Thoughts of a certain brown haired witch filled his head, and he felt his insides twist and tighten with anxiety.
What scared him most was his intense desire to feel her close to him again, to lose himself in her scent.
He fell asleep with his stomach in severe pain from the nerves.
Sleep overtook him, and with it came intense nightmares.
Hermione listened for signs of Draco's wakefulness.
She hadn't heard anything from him for over an hour, and yet was still too scared to act on her impulses.
He must be sleeping. Just do it. Take it.
She drew a deep breath in, and in a swift movement, crossed the kitchen, pocketing Bellatrix's wand. A sigh of relief escaped her as her hand grasped the cold walnut wood. She finally had a leg up again.
Silently exiting the kitchen, Hermione paced down the long halls of the Malfoy Manor, weighing her options. Her breath clouded every time she exhaled. She shivered uncontrollably in the frozen night.
As she passed by Draco's bedroom, she noticed a faint glow coming from the underside of the door.
He must've lit a fire again, she thought to herself, the cold air piercing her once more.
She wondered if it would be possible to sneak in there without his noticing, just to warm up.
Shaking the thought from her mind, Hermione continued on to the Malfoy's library. She paced back and forth through the shelves of worn books, searching for something that would relate to the situation.
She probably could have made herself useful, if it weren't for the exhaustion creeping up on her, and the bitter cold piercing her bones. She grew colder and more tired by the second, and when she could no longer hold her eyes open, Hermione sighed. She stored the wand between two large binded books towards the end of the library, somewhere she knew no one would think to look.
Perhaps it was the extreme deprivation of rest that caused her to do what she did next.
She found herself in a daze, wandering back down the eerie black halls of the manor. The light of the fire from Draco's room was far too enticing, and Hermione quietly opened his door, slipping inside.
She regarded the Slytherin with gentle eyes. He had fallen asleep on his back on the top of the bed.
Something about the quiet of his sleep drew her to him.
Hermione carefully climbed on top of the bed, and lay next to Malfoy. She lay on her side, staring at him, not sure whether to make the move she was planning on. She felt something incredible pulling her towards him.
Deciding to go with her gut, Hermione pulled herself closer to Draco, so much so that they were touching. She draped a careful arm over his chest, and nestled her head upon his shoulder. The warmth of the fire combined with his slow breaths and familiar scent was intoxicating, and Hermione fell almost immediately to sleep.
Draco woke suddenly in the night, feeling that something had changed. He felt her presence immediately, and pretended to be asleep while she draped herself over him.
Bloody hell.
The comfort of the embrace was undeniable, and Draco couldn't bring himself to react to her. He indulged the cravings he'd had all day, and allowed his arms to once again wrap around her.
He fell asleep this way, his fingers drawing mindless circles on her back, and their breaths slowly synchronizing. He felt the most comforted he had in months, and had the first nightmare-free slumber he'd had in years.
What was left of the night wore on, and the pair slept, their bodies intertwined.
The sun rose, and Hermione and Draco continued to sleep, prolonging their comfort as long as possible. It wasn't until midday that they were awoken by a most unsettling noise.
The unmistakable sound of apparition.
Two loud 'pop's echoed through the halls of the Malfoy Manor.
They were no longer alone.