Chapter 30 - Temptation

Malfoy was uncharacteristically quiet when he walked with Hermione to his room following dinner. Hermione didn't quite know what to make of it. He kept pace at her side, walking just close enough that they brushed into each other on occasion. Her heart fluttered nervously with each chance encounter. However, the sudden chivalry was what really had her puzzled.

Malfoy held open doors for her. He cast a warming charm on her automatically when she shivered on encountering the chilly air of the dungeons. He even placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the pitch-black corridors leading to his room. She felt like she was being courted, and yet… She had seen Malfoy's horror when his mother hinted at such a thing between them.

When they entered his room, Malfoy wordlessly removed her robes for her and hung them up before removing his own and hanging them beside hers. Dumbfounded, Hermione stared at him as he continued to undress for the evening. Her blood pulsed more loudly with each item he removed, and she felt faint with relief when he finally stopped after his shoes, tie, and top button were managed. She absolutely fancied him, but that didn't mean she was ready to shag him.

"Malfoy," Hermione said to get his attention after he had carefully hung his tie and run a hand through his hair, tousling it. He glanced up at her, eyed the shoes on her feet and the fastened tie at her neck, and raised an eyebrow. Hermione bit her lip, wondering how best to address her confusion. "What are you doing?" she asked in the end, feeling ridiculous even as the words left her mouth.

If Malfoy noticed her nervousness, he didn't show it. "We're likely to be up late again, if the pile of books I borrowed for you is anything to judge by." He gestured behind him to where a miniature of the library table with all the books still piled in the same places rested on his desk. "You may as well dress down yourself."

"That's not what I meant," Hermione said. "You're different tonight." She took a deep breath. Should she accuse him of courting her? No. Definitely not. He had been horrified when his mother hinted at matrimony only a few hours ago. Just thinking about it caused the blood to drain from her face. She had no desire to relive her earlier mortification. "I'm not sure what to make of it," she hedged and avoided his eyes. Her attention fell on his bed, and she longed to crawl under its covers and be held in his arms again. Exhaustion tugged at her every muscle.

A brief, disappointed sigh drew Hermione's gaze back to Malfoy. He had stepped back and placed his hands in his pockets. His expression was carefully blank, denying her any hints of his current direction of thoughts. "Do you dislike it?" he asked.

Hermione was shaking her head before she realized it. "I don't dislike it, but I don't understand it either," she protested, but then an explanation occurred to her: His mother may have ordered Malfoy to treat Hermione better. Narcissa must have found Malfoy after leaving Hermione and told him to treat her like a lady after learning of his rudeness from Hermione. It made some sense, at least, unlike her earlier thought that he might have decided to court her.

Hermione felt strangled laughter escape as she realized how very mistaken she had nearly been. How silly of her. She should have known better than to suspect Malfoy would have treated her so well of his own free will. Oh, Merlin, this meant his current kindness was done under duress. Hermione swallowed back the acid in her throat as a sudden wave of nausea threatened to evict her dinner. Her skin crawled with horror and shame, and when she found her voice again, it trembled and shook. "I've changed my mind. Please go back to how you were. I don't want you to force yourself for my sake."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes sharply, as if she had said something wrong. However, he said nothing. Hermione's heart pounded. Her mind raced to make sense of his expression. What had she said wrong? Was this because his mother had known he treated her poorly? She inhaled sharply as she recalled his earlier warning to never come between him and his mother. Hermione had completely forgotten. She shivered with fresh horror at the implications. Was he only helping her now to please his mother? How angry was he? Did he even want her around?

His mouth opened as if he were about to speak, and Hermione panicked.

"I'm sorry!" she blurted and flinched when he steeply arched one eyebrow and gave her an incredulous expression. "I'm sorry," she repeated more calmly. Malfoy's brow came down and furrowed with frustration, but Hermione pushed on. "I was so flustered when I spoke to your mother about you that I entirely forgot to mind myself, and I'm afraid I said more than I should have. I swear I didn't mean to. I know how important she is to you… I would never intentionally come between you and her, but…" Hermione trailed off, avoiding his eyes in her shame. She took a deep breath as she realized the reason likely didn't matter. The best intentions in the world had never been enough when she had hurt Harry and Ron's trust. Her voice was nearly a whisper when she spoke again. "It only makes sense that you would be furious. You don't have to pretend to tolerate me, let alone treat me like… like…" Her voice faltered as she failed to find a way to describe his courtly behavior towards her that wouldn't make things even worse.

"Like?" Malfoy quietly echoed when the silence stretched out. Hermione finally met his eyes again and saw that they stormed. However, the incredulity and frustration of a moment ago were carefully masked again. She had no idea what he was thinking.

Hermione stared at him blankly, having nearly forgotten what she had just said after momentarily losing herself in her study of him.

The corner of her mouth quirked down as she again attempted a more benign synonym than courtship behaviors to describe how he had been treating her. Princely behaviors, perhaps? But no, that was less accurate and just as bad, really. He would never let her live that one down. Adulthood had not denied Malfoy the joys of being an immature git. She sighed in frustrated disappointment.

Malfoy placed his hands on his hips, tucked in his chin to better look down at her, and raised an inquiring eyebrow at her. His entire posture shouted that she was boring him and wasting his time by delaying speaking.

"Courting." She stated before she could lose her nerve. "Like you were courting me," she elaborated in case the context had been forgotten. She felt hot and cold all at once for having said it out loud. Would he mock her again? She felt as though she could sink through the floor from her mortification, and the realization that the curse made that a possibility only cracked her spirit further.

When Hermione saw Malfoy opened his mouth to speak, she quickly held up a hand to stop him. "Please don't trouble yourself to explain that you're not courting me and have no desire to. I know I'm nutters to describe it so when you made it very clear just this afternoon that my…" Hermione paused. Though they both knew she fancied him, the thought of openly admitting it felt like pouring salt on her wounds. She backtracked. "You already emphasized just this afternoon that it would be ludicrous for me to think that you might fancy me when we still despised each other only a few days ago." Hermione took a deep breath and huffed. On seeing hints of confusion, she deadpanned. "You accused me of reading too many romance novels after I expressed disappointment at your motivations for trying to kiss me. Perhaps you forgot?"

Malfoy's mouth snapped shut, and the fury in his eyes settled somewhat as he took on a thoughtful expression and looked away from her.

Hermione smiled in bitter relief to have managed their conversation in such a way that Malfoy had backed off before ever attacking. Her pride and heart had been battered enough. "So you see, I know you couldn't possibly be courting me. It's preposterous. I'm just not sure how else to describe the way you've treated me tonight."

Malfoy nodded tightly before facing her again. He slouched forward, and his fringe cast shadows over his eyes as he studied her face. "How would you like me to treat you?"

Hermione blinked, then blinked again. His question made no sense. "I don't understand." She frowned, and her brow furrowed. "If this is about your mother, you have nothing to fear. I wouldn't…" Hermione trailed off as Malfoy indicated with a raised hand that she should stop.

He met her eyes intently. Spellbound, Hermione hardly noticed him reach for her until she felt his fingers dust her cheek and tuck a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. He lightly cupped the side of her face and gazed at her. She gasped at the contact, and her skin tingled with awareness.

"Hermione," he said, and the sound of her given name on his lips sent a wave of pleasure through her, leaving her breathless and nearly limp. He stepped closer, and she could feel his body heat in the proximity. "What do you want?" he asked quietly.

Kissing him would have been so easy, and impossible as it seemed with how he must despise her, she knew he anticipated kissing from how his gaze darted to her lips and back every so often. His eyes flared with desire when Hermione wet her lips without thinking. He wanted to kiss her, and she him, and yet…

Hermione knew his desire could only be physical, and she wanted so much more. She wanted to be more than a release that he summoned and dismissed at his convenience. She hadn't forgotten the cruelty in his earlier attempts to manipulate her and how hurt she had been despite knowing he meant her well. His horror at his mother's misguided assumption that Hermione might wish to marry him someday remained fresh in her mind. Naturally, Hermione didn't expect every relationship to end in matrimony, she didn't want the possibility to be ruled out before she started, and she knew beyond a doubt that there was no future in kissing him like this. She had to stop things before they went further.

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling her resolve settle around her heart like a new layer of armor. This time, her whims would not so easily distract her.

With a bruised and swollen heart, Hermione lifted her hand and covered Malfoy's hand on her cheek. Her bracelet jingled in the process, as if she needed yet another reason she shouldn't get involved with Malfoy, but she gave the curse little thought as she carefully removed his touch from her face and stepped back. His hand tensed as she did so, and she squeezed it on reflex, knowing he feared that her distance would mean a return to his former isolation.

Hermione took another deep breath and added her free hand to their clasped hands, trying to reassure him even as she searched for the words to explain that she absolutely needed that distance from him. She chewed her bottom lip, trying to ignore the guilt so that she could think clearly. She felt warmth encompass her hands and saw that he had wrapped his free hand over hers as well. Her heart melted in a blended mess of affection, hurt, and wishful thinking for what might have been, and her eyes welled with tears. "You ask what I want. It's much easier to answer what I don't want," she started. She shifted her gaze back up to his eyes and tilted her head slightly as she studied him. The carefully blank expression of earlier was entirely gone, and pained apprehension and longing had replaced it, drawing out the lines of his eyes and making him seem far older than his years.

She didn't want to hurt him, but there would be no avoiding that if she wanted to protect herself. The first tear slipped free, and Hermione sniffed. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I can't. Not like this. I don't want to be confused anymore." The admission cracked the gates of her heart, and Hermione felt compelled to state what she had been afraid to openly admit just a minute ago. She smiled wryly at the irony of it all and shook her head gently in disbelief before making eye contact again. "I know I'm mad for it when we weren't speaking just a few days ago, and perhaps I have read too many romance novels, but I do fancy you, Malfoy. I fancy you rather a lot."

The corner of Malfoy's mouth twisted down sharply as his eyes filled with hurt rage, and Hermione felt as if the floor had dropped out from under her. Malfoy ripped his hands free of hers and curled them into fists. "Then what's the problem? Don't want to get sucked in deeper with the former Death Eater? Is that it?"

"What!?" Hermione gasped. Heart and mind reeled from his reaction. Where had that come from?!

"Or maybe now that you know you'll soon be free of me, you've decided you'd rather not deal with an entanglement you would regret?" Malfoy spat. "I can hardly imagine you would want your friends to know you fancied me."

Shock fell away to dismay and hurt at his accusations. He still didn't trust her to be genuine, and if she complained about his distrust, he would likely say the same things he had before when she had complained about his lack of honesty and lack of genuine interest. Hermione's eyes prickled as a tear slipped free. He would remind her that they had still been avoiding each other until a few days ago, and she was daft to expect him to change overnight. There was nothing strange to his lack of trust at this point, and he wasn't entirely wrong to distrust her. She had hidden things from him and tried to manipulate him.

Hermione chewed her lip, unsure of what to say. Her eyes fell on where her robes hung behind Malfoy, and she smiled ruefully, thinking of how different the atmosphere between them had been on entering the room when he had helped her out of her school robes and begun dressing down himself.

"I should go," Hermione found herself saying. "I want to go," she amended, thinking of his earlier question.

Malfoy's eyes hardened, and it was through clenched teeth that he next spoke. "Not even denying it, Granger? Have you decided that you're done deceiving me now that my mother is assisting you?"

Hermione studied him, finding that, while she trembled slightly from the emotional toll her confession had made, she felt no fear of his rage or misunderstanding. So much had changed for her in such a short time span, and yet not at all for him, it seemed. "Have you forgotten that the letters we crafted would be reviewed by the aurors, and so I have already agreed to revealing an entanglement with you to both Ron and Harry?"

Malfoy scowled, though his fury was now cut through with uncertainty. "An entanglement I expect you'll explain away at first opportunity."

Hermione conceded this with a small nod and looked him in the eyes. "Of course. Why wouldn't I? I dislike deception and value honesty with those I care for, which is why, when I told Ginny that though the letters were fabricated, I also told her that I had come to fancy you anyway."

Malfoy's mouth parted in shock, and all traces of anger left him. Hermione couldn't help but smile at his reaction, but she knew she still needed to go. She carefully stepped around Malfoy, retrieved her robes, and wrapped them around her, talking as she set them to order. "Ginny could hardly believe it. She thought it more likely you had cursed or charmed me somehow and warned me away from you. I expect Harry's reaction will be even worse, but he's my best friend and like a brother to me. I could hardly keep something like this from him. As for Ron…" Hermione froze. She hadn't meant to mention Ron, nor did she know how or if she would tell Ron of her feelings for Malfoy.

"Weasley's a git who never deserved you," Malfoy said.

Warmth flushed through Hermione's heart, and she didn't quite succeed at biting back her grin. Robed once more, she faced Malfoy again with her back to the door. "So you see, I would not let fear prevent me from acknowledging my affection for you after the curse." She smirked. "As you may recall, I am a Gryffindor."

Malfoy took a step closer to her and slid his hands into his trouser pockets. "Then why?"

"Why what?" Hermione asked. She pulled her hair free of her robes and checked that she hadn't inadvertently left anything in the room. The shrunken library table and its books beckoned her, but she didn't want to give Malfoy an excuse to keep her there longer.

"Why not kiss me?" Malfoy asked her.

Torn between amusement at his fixation on kissing and frustration at his asking her only because he had no one else to kiss, Hermione twisted her face and searched for an explanation that wouldn't invite more conversation with it. "Malfoy," she began. "You made it very clear in the Room of Requirement that you don't fancy me… that I was mad to think you might after such a short time. I don't want to tease myself into hoping your kiss means otherwise. It would hurt too much."

Malfoy's eyes widened a fraction at her explanation, and something like regret had passed through them, but he made no objection.

The silence dragged out, and Hermione struggled against a yawn as she realized how exhausted she was. Malfoy still hadn't responded, and it didn't seem as if that would change. Hermione pursed her lips firmly. Did he not even intend to acknowledge her before she left? Her shoulders sank with disappointed acceptance that this might well be the way of things between them now. "Good night, Malfoy," she said in a tired voice.

She had turned halfway for the door when she saw Malfoy set his jaw in the corner of her eye. A moment later, Hermione found herself wrapped tightly against him in his arms. His firm and slender frame melded against her own softer and shorter figure. His head leaned against hers. His face was buried in her hair. Delicious heat enveloped her and melted her heart. It was decadent torture.

"Malfoy…" Hermione warned breathlessly.

"You hug your friends. It's allowed," Malfoy said in a tone that permitted no argument. He squeezed her gently and sighed with the relief of someone finally returning home after a long journey. When Hermione began to pull away, he tugged her closer. "Please, just a little longer." Hermione didn't immediately relax, but she no longer tried to move away either. After perhaps 10 seconds, he released her. "Thank you," he said, and he opened the door for her to leave.

Hermione didn't so much walk as fled from Malfoy's room. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt dizzy with confusion. If he felt nothing, why hold her so long? Was it just to ward off his insecurity of being alone? Was he trying to manipulate her through seduction even now, despite knowing how broken that path would leave her? Could Malfoy really be that cruel? And if not, then what did it all mean?

"Stop right there, Hermione Jean Granger," Hermione ordered herself. It couldn't mean what she wanted it to mean, but that didn't stop her traitorous heart from sending heat to her cheeks on the long trek back to her dormitory.

Hope you enjoyed it! Apologies again on the long wait between updates recently. I promise it's not because I've lost interest. Things are just that crazy on my end. Stay safe!