The next few days flew by pretty quickly and Hermione found herself distracted more and more by thoughts of Malfoy. More specifically by the things he had said to her and by the way she felt when she was near him. The utter hatred and loathing that she had harboured for the last 6 years was now replaced with confusion, intrigue and most concerning, lust.
She found herself watching him at meals, waiting for him to look her way so she could decipher what it was that was going on. If he just glanced in her direction, she may see it in his face, she may feel like his interest was real and not some pathetic attempt to get at her for Voldemort's sake. Somehow, that idea sat very low on the probability scale for her.
On the following Friday, she found herself one of the last remaining at the Gryffindor table. Harry had been rushed away by Dumbledore for their meetings, Ron had left early to sneak off with Lavender, Ginny and Dean were sitting quite close together and everyone else seemed to be more interested in other things than her. She didn't mind, in fact, she relished the minutes in her days when people left her alone. She was able to eat her pudding in relative peace and read a book for leisure for once. As she turned a page in her book, she glanced up and for the first time all week, the eyes of Draco Malfoy had locked with hers. She was suddenly caught in what felt like quicksand. She felt herself being drawn under, she felt the pull of it, but for whatever reason, had no desire to fight it. She felt that if she fought it, like quicksand, it would suck her under quicker. So she held eye contact with him for what was probably far too long, noticing that for the second time in months, he cracked the smallest of smiles. She had only seen it once before, a smile, on Malfoy's face that wasn't associated with teasing or tormenting someone. His last smile was directed towards her too. A smile of her own grew large on her face and she then found the ability to look away and down into her book, a failed attempt to hide whatever this was that was happening.
Realising she was fighting a losing battle by being in the same room as him, she closed her book, pushed her bowl into the centre of the table where it conveniently vanished, and got up to leave. She tucked her book into the large pocket inside of her robes and made her way out of the great hall and into the entrance hall. She didn't quite feel like heading back to the Gryffindor common room, but her need to just get away was driving her up the stairs and deep into the castle.
Before she knew it, she found herself on the 7th floor eager for a place to go to, to be alone with her thoughts. Approaching the corridor, she began pacing back and forth, thinking about a cosy room where she could sit comfortably and read, but was stopped in her tracks by footsteps that approached.
She knew who it was before she saw them.
With a hand on the door that had just appeared, she turned and waited for him to approach and either kiss her or throw a derogatory comment her way.
"What did you mean the other night?" he asked as he neared her.
"You'll have to be more specific" she said, not pushing the door open just yet. Malfoy stopped a few feet from where she stood, eyeing the door suspiciously.
"You said that Potter wasn't stalking you" he said.
"I did say that" she said.
"And?" he asked.
"And what?" she asked.
"Granger, if he's watching me, I need to know" he said.
"He's watching everyone. Certain people specifically" she said.
What's that supposed to mean?" Malfoy asked, now pacing back and forth but without the same look of deep thought that people have when they're trying to enter the room of requirement.
"It means that Harry has a way of seeing who is in the castle and where they are, every minute of every day. There is only one place you can hide from him and its right here" she said, looking at the door handle that her hand was still holding onto.
She looked back to him and noticed his face fall. He was afraid.
"You can't go in there" he said, reaching for her but missing as she entered the room. He followed her in, and they found themselves in a small room with a fireplace and two armchairs. Very appropriate. No sofa, no loveseat, no way for him to kiss her. Just somewhere she could finally get out of him what she wanted to know.
"Are you coming in or not?" she asked.
"The room is different" he said, taking tentative steps.
"You've been in here before?" she asked.
"Yes, but it's usually very different" he said.
"The room of requirement. It adapts to what you need it to be. I needed somewhere to sit and think and a place where Harry wouldn't see me on the map. Voila" she said, looking around the small room.
Malfoy walked to one of the armchairs and sat down, Hermione doing the same to the other chair.
"I don't know what it is that you want from me, Malfoy" she said, seriously.
"You think I do? You think I was happy when I realised how badly I wanted to… well… I'll save you the details" he said, looking away to the fire.
"Because I'm bossy and have an attitude and won't let you tell me what to do?" she asked.
"I guess. I don't know" he said, running his hands through his hair. "I don't know how this stuff works" he said, looking at her briefly.
"This stuff?" she asked.
He rolled his eyes and leant back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. She wondered if there was something she wasn't getting.
"For someone so clever, you're pretty naïve" he said.
"For someone so experienced and so smart, you're pretty vague" she responded, resulting in a brief smile from him.
"There are parts of me…" he began, leaning forward on the chair, "… and I don't know how big those parts are… that are very, highly attracted to you" he said.
"Ok" was all she could say. She felt herself blushing. No one had ever spoken to her this way before.
"Ok?" he asked.
"Yes, Malfoy, what do you want me to do? Swoon at your feet? Jump your bones? You've been an ass to me for years, I'd be more likely to believe that you're trying to lure me into some sort of trap, than believe that you find something about me appealing" she said, crossing her legs and placing her hands in her lap.
Malfoy ran his hands through his hair again, she was sensing it was his tell-tale sign of frustration. She appeared to have the upper hand.
"I was raised to think…" he began.
"I know how you were raised. I know what you were taught to believe. That's why I'm bothering to give you any of my time. I think that you deserve the right to come up with your own ideas about life. To figure things out for yourself, but I'm not going to be your saviour. I'm not here to beg you to believe that muggle borns don't have mud in their veins or that we're just as talented, just as human, just as magical as someone whose parents were both pureblood. You need to work that out on your own" she said, standing to leave.
"What are you here for then?" he asked, standing from his chair as she neared the door.
"I honestly don't know. Curiosity, maybe? Maybe I'm waiting to see how far you'll go before revealing your sinister plans" she responded.
"Do you want to kiss me?" he asked, stepping closer to where she stood.
"I… I mean… I won't say that I didn't enjoy it the first time" she said.
"But the second time you pushed me away" he said, standing so close to her she could feel the warmth of his body, reaching out to hers.
"I did… I wasn't… I mean, it wasn't appropriate" she said.
"What about now?" he asked.
"What about now?" she asked.
"Is it appropriate now?" he asked.
"I, uh…" she said, feeling a familiar warmth spread through her body and settle somewhere near her lower abdomen.
"There's no one here but us, we won't be interrupted, you said yourself, Potter can't trace us here… If it's not a no, then say no…" he said quietly.
His eyes locked onto hers and his head tilted down towards hers. She nodded her head, saying yes. Yes to whatever it was that he had asked her. Yes to a kiss, yes to his proximity, yes to the danger. Before she could take a breath, his lips found hers and they kissed. It wasn't as rushed as the first time, not as dangerous, not as forced. This time, it was a little slower, a little more sensitive. It scared the hell out of Hermione, who thought that Malfoy was simply looking for something to bide his time, to fill some kind of void or even to bring her into some kind of trap. But this kiss, the way his hands were now so very gently touching her face, it was telling her that this was more than some attraction. More than some strange bdsm fantasy about being bossed around and told what to do. He liked her. He wanted to kiss her slowly and touch her face. He wanted to change his entire way of thinking, he wanted to know, to experience, to feel that everything he ever believed was a lie.
Where that kiss ended, the next one began and before she knew it, time had passed, and her wand vibrated to the tick of the 11pm clock in the tower somewhere above.
"I have to go" she said, pulling herself free from his grasp. His hands had made their way to rest on her hips as they had kissed, and when he released her, she felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown on her.
"Can we meet up again tomorrow night?" he asked.
"I don't know, I guess" she said. "I need to get Harry's map" she said, realising that just because Harry wouldn't see them on the map together, that he wouldn't put 2 and 2 together and figure it out.
When she turned to leave, Malfoy took her by the hand and pulled her back to him. She looked up and saw that he was looking down into her face with a look of… was it adoration? Lust? She didn't know. She reached up and pulled his lips back towards hers and kissed him one last time.
"Good night Malfoy" she said softly.
"Night Granger" he said with a smile as she left the room.
The next day, Hermione wandered around the grounds in a daze. Malfoy kept looking in her direction all through breakfast, making her feel self-conscious. She ate quickly and left, heading outside and attempting to make sense of her life now.
She enjoyed what happened the night before, she knew that much was true. When he told her that he was attracted to her, it had sparked something deep down inside of her that she didn't know existed. They hadn't exchanged many words during their kissing marathon the night before, but she knew that the things her body was feeling were beyond what any words could describe.
She had kissed boys before. She thought back to kissing Viktor, to kissing the boy from her hometown and even to kissing Cormack McLaggen and none of those times had ever made her want to do anything other than kiss them. She hadn't considered the idea, hadn't known where to put her hands or what to do or say afterwards, but with Malfoy, somehow her hands found their own way and her body screamed at her to get closer, feel more, beg him to touch her. It was quite frustrating.
She rounded a corner and came to an abrupt halt when she found herself almost face to face with a group of Slytherins. She looked around the group, noticing Pansy, Daphne, Blaize, Crabbe, Goyle and, of course, Malfoy.
"Oh, look who it is" came the irritatingly girly voice of Pansy.
Hermione stood in silence, wondering how this would play out. Malfoy's declaration that he didn't know what he believed anymore was tremendous, but that wasn't to say that he would outright declare it in front of his friends. Or that he would be openly nice to her.
"Granger, what are you doing out here all alone?" Blaise asked her. He had never been openly mean to her, but he hadn't ever defended her or been nice to her either. In fact, she doubted whether she had ever heard him speak.
"Just filling in some time" she said, glancing briefly at Malfoy, who sat wide eyed observing the scene playing out in front of him.
"Well, do it somewhere else, we don't want you near us" Pansy said with an almost evil smile.
"I would prefer not to be anywhere near you either" Hermione said, looking Pansy up and down before she turned to leave.
In her peripheral vision, she saw as Pansy pulled her wand from the pocket of her robes and she immediately reacted, spinning around, holding her wand aloft, ready to defend herself.
Pansy simply cocked her head to the side and stood tall, seemingly ready to cast whatever spell it was that she was thinking of.
"Quick, aren't you?" she said.
Hermione had her shield spell ready in her head, had her wrist angled so that she could cast with a simple flick.
"With people like you around, I have no choice" she said, raising an eyebrow.
Before either of them could move, Malfoy stood up and grabbed Pansy from the back of her robes, pulling her backwards and out of the impending fight.
"Don't you think we have more important things to be doing than duelling?" he asked her, no sign of the Malfoy from the night before. He was clearly back to his old self, his voice, his demeanour, his attitude. He seemed to have gotten over his obvious momentary lapse in thought and judgement from the weeks that had gone by.
Pansy smiled maniacally and turned around, wrapping her arms around his neck in an affectionate manner that made Hermione want to punch her.
She turned to leave, storming off in the direction from where she had come, without bothering to watch herself be proven to be a complete idiot. Malfoy didn't want her. He hadn't changed how he thought of her, he wasn't interested in her attitude and demeanour. He was purely and solely out to get her. Using her while he was obviously involved with Pansy still.
She laughed to herself as she now realised her whole infatuation was purely a very obvious thing for the 'bad boy'. Tormentor turned make-out buddy was far too unrealistic, yet the cliché was so clear. The Gryffindor common room was full of people, which was uncommon for a Saturday. Usually they'd be out on the grounds, soaking up the rare sunshine, or gathering in the great hall for games. Being around this many people wasn't high on her list of things she wanted to do after just being humiliated, so she retrieved her school satchel and headed for the library to study.
She was deep in an essay for History of Magic at a table in the secluded back area of the library when she heard footsteps approach. It wasn't that she hadn't expected anyone, just, people tended to stay away from her when she was in the zone.
"I finished that essay already" came a voice.
She carefully placed her quill on the table, resting the nib on the lid of her inkpot and exhaled as she looked up to see Malfoy standing above her.
"Where's your girlfriend and your friends?" she asked him with a fake sweet voice that made her want to gag.
He looked around before pulling out the seat across from her and sitting down.
"My girlfriend? I hope you don't mean Pansy" he said.
"Well I'd say Goyle, but I'm almost certain he's at least part male" she said.
"Part troll more like" Malfoy said, earning a quizzical look from Hermione.
"Pansy isn't my girlfriend and the rest of them I can barely stand" he said.
"Right" she said, starting to pack her things. She wouldn't sit here and listen to him lie to her about whatever it was he was or wasn't doing with Pansy Parkinson while he met with her in secret after dark.
"Are you still going to meet me tonight?" he asked.
"I don't think that's a good idea" she said.
"Why not?" he asked, standing as she tried to walk past him to leave. He was close. Too close. Again. Her eyes were level with his mouth and it was all she could do to tear them away from his lips. They were just as she remembered them and the part of her that wasn't controlled by her logical brain wanted to pull him to her and crash their lips together.
"This whole thing Malfoy… It really is just some dumb joke, right? Oh, look, you got me interested, you win. Game over" she said.
"You're interested?" he asked with a smile that was becoming more and more common.
She stood with a hand on her hip looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Was he for real? Could he not tell that by now?
"Look, I meant everything I said to you. And I mean it when I say that there is nothing between Pansy Parkinson and me. She thinks there is, but it's been over for a long time" he said.
"Great. Now you're free to chase whoever you want" she said., pushing past him and walking through the stacks of shelves.
"Fantastic" he said, following her.
"You're following me. People will see" she said.
"You told me I'm free to chase who I want. I'm chasing you" he said.
She stopped in her tracks and shook her head to attempt to prevent her mind running away on its own little tangent. He wanted her. He had said that more than once, he had kissed her. He hadn't been openly nasty to her around his friends, but he hadn't defended her either. He had let Pansy put her arms around him, or so she thought. She didn't stick around to see what he did or didn't do. For all she knew, he pushed her away, fobbed her off. Also, for all she knew, he embraced her and kissed her the way he had kissed Hermione the night before.
Before she could think anymore, he positioned himself in front of her, leading her backwards against the shelf of books. His hands came up beside her, gripping the shelf at either side of her shoulders and his body was so close to hers that she could barely move. She took a breath and then his lips crashed into hers. She was momentarily stunned, but the feel of his lips, his close proximity, the overwhelming sensory impact of Malfoy was leading her, guiding her, pulling her into him. She snaked an arm around his neck, pulling him closer to her, kissing him back just as hard as he was kissing her. She was warm deep inside her body, the aching in her abdomen built quickly and she tried to squeeze her thighs together to make it stop. When his hands left the shelf behind her and travelled down her back to rest at her waist, a small moan escaped her throat. She was eager for his touch, desperate for something more. This kissing was no longer satisfying the hunger that she felt for him when he was close to her. Her hands moved, almost of their own accord, to his hips, pulling him closer to her so that their pelvic areas pressed together. She felt him harden against her almost immediately and she revelled in it. If this was fake, he wouldn't be this excited, he wouldn't be this willing. If he truly thought her blood status was something to be ashamed of, something to hate her for, he wouldn't be doing this with her.
His hands slid down her waist, down to her hips and he took her by the backs of her upper thighs, lifting her so that she was now pressed against the shelf, fully supported by him with her legs wrapped around him. Their lips never parted, it was like magnetism, like some unrelenting force of nature or chemistry or some purely magical force was pulling them together, keeping them from breaking apart. And she had no intention of putting an end to it. She felt his excitement, his eagerness for her, his arousal press against her and she was almost grateful for having worn leggings and an oversized baggy jumper. She could feel every bit of him pressing against her, much the same as it had the night on the astronomy tower. Another moan escaped from her mouth, and it was almost like a command for him to move. He pushed against her, allowing himself to create friction in the most exquisite place, before he pulled back, then he repeated the motion over and over again. She felt the pleasure build, like stretching an elastic band. It was incredible but agonising at the same time. The primal part of her brain wanted him to throw her down on the floor and take her there and then and the closer she came to orgasm, the more she considered casting a 'notice-me-not' charm over them and doing just that. With her building pleasure, came small whimpers from her mouth and with that, Malfoy stopped kissing her, but kept up the thrusting motion until the rubber band had stretched so far that it snapped. She came with a gasp that was quickly covered by his hand to prevent her crying out into the library. Her eyes squeezed shut as she felt herself clench around nothing. She exhaled the last of her second ever orgasm into the palm of this incredibly unrelenting person standing before her and opened her eyes to see him watching her with a genuine smile on his face.
"I like that I can make you do that so easily" he said.
She didn't have a response, just hummed in appreciation as he lowered her feet to the floor, her embarrassment starting to set in.
"Meet me later? After supper?" he asked as she made to walk away. She never knew what to say in the aftermath of these situations.
"Are you hoping I'll return the favour?" she asked.
"Sweet Salazar, no, I just want to talk" he said, running his hand through his hair. He was serious. She felt bad.
"Ok" she said, picking her satchel up from the floor where she had dropped it and leaving the isle.