Draco lay in bed with his heart pounding. Adrenaline raced through his veins as he desperately struggled to catch his breath.
Did that really just happen?
Did he really hear that?
Did Hermione Granger really just ... moan his name?
Cursing, he rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow. He heard girls moan his name often enough. He liked that. When he was out with Pansy in an unused classroom or Tracey followed him to the lake. It was proof that they enjoyed it as much as he did. It made sex an exhilarating experience when his partner got so lost in it that the only word she could get out was his name.
Granger had moaned his name without any input from him at all.
Part of him found that repulsive. He did not like the fact that she, of all people, was abusing him for such purposes in her fantasy. Not one bit. She had no right to do so.
But still, a much larger part was just busy changing the scenario. Images of her swam through his mind. Below him, eyes closed, and just as desperate as she was in the bathroom. Her arms wrapped tightly around him. Her mouth open, unable to let out more than sighs and moans. Her thighs wrapped tightly around him. And then, at her peak, she sighs his name directly into his ear. Satisfied, greedy, tantalising.
Cursing, Draco sat up in bed. He was glad Blaise and Theo were already sound asleep at this hour. The last thing he needed right now was prying questions.
How was he going to face Granger tomorrow?
Luckily it was the weekend now and he could avoid her without attracting attention. He did not see her outside of class anyway. Apart from on the train, he had not exchanged a word with her this school year. There was no reason to change that now.
oOoOoOo
"Your expression rivals the Bloody Baron," Blaise greeted him with exaggerated cheerfulness on Saturday morning. "Bad night?"
Draco did not even bother looking up from his coffee as his supposed best friend took a seat across from him at the table. Firstly, he rarely engaged in Blaise's provocations, and secondly, there really was not anything he could have explained this time. Or wanted to.
"Come on, Blaise," Theo spoke up next to him instead, "have pity on the poor boy. He's probably just not over having to see Granger again for a year."
Draco nearly choked on his hot coffee and almost just let go of the cup. Cursing, he wiped his mouth with a napkin as he set the coffee back on the table, where a brown rim immediately formed on the white tablecloth.
"Did he hit the bull's eye?" inquired Blaise with a laugh. "What, were you so consumed with thoughts of Granger that you stayed up all night?"
Theo, looking a little guilty, offered Draco another napkin to wipe the accidental coffee off his trousers. Shaking his head, he rubbed his thigh, but he suspected he would have to change his trousers after breakfast. The jet-black coffee would definitely show on his grey trousers. For once, he wished he knew how to do cleaning spells.
"I just burnt my mouth on the hot coffee," he said sharply. "That had nothing at all to do with Theo's stupid statement. As if my life revolved around Granger."
He saw his two best friends shoot each other a look, but he was not willing to elaborate. The last thing he needed was nosy and well-meaning friends who could end up eliciting the truth from him after all. He had decided this morning anyway to put the incident out of his mind and never think about it again.
oOoOoOo
But of course, the universe had other plans. On his way to the library, he did not think for a second that this was Hermione Granger's favourite place. All he could think about was that he could think there, undisturbed by his friends and other students, while pretending to study.
Of course, she was sitting at the table that was best hidden at the back between the rows of shelves. Draco preferred this table because it was the most likely to remain undetected. Did Granger not usually sit further in the front, where everyone could see how eager she was? Why was she burying herself so far back today of all days?
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
Abruptly, Draco became aware that he was standing rooted to the spot, staring at her. He fought against blushing, but when he looked into her eyes for a split second, he was lost. Memories of the previous night flooded before his inner eye, a wild mix of real images and forbidden fantasies.
He felt the heat rush to his cheeks. Desperately, he searched for anything that could legitimately distract him so he would not have to look at her any longer. Without really seeing what was in front of him, he stepped towards one of the shelves and turned his back on Granger with it.
"I'm just looking for a book here," he pressed out with difficulty. "No need to bother me with your helpfulness."
He heard her make a noise behind him, a mixture of annoyed groan and suppressed curse. Draco tried to focus on the titles on the spines of the books in front of him, but it seemed his body was trying to deceive him. All his senses were focused on the petite female at his back. He could hear her sliding back and forth on the chair, writing down a single word every now and then and then turning a page in one of the books in front of her. He thought he could feel the warmth of her body, but of course that was nonsense.
"I don't want to bother you unnecessarily," he heard her say softly a moment later, "but maybe you'll just tell me what you're looking for? You can't seem to find it and frankly, you're breaking my concentration."
He was breaking her concentration? Just last night she had acted out unspeakable fantasies about him, and today she dared to treat him so dismissively? Draco felt cold anger rise up inside him.
"You know what?" He turned to her abruptly, stood in front of the desk, and leaned over her, resting his hands on the tabletop. "You can drop your arrogant attitude. You don't have to pretend to any of us here."
He saw Granger open her mouth indignantly to retort something, but he did not give her time. Briskly, he pushed himself off the table, turned, and walked away with long strides.
For a brief moment last night, he thought about whether she might feel differently about him by now. Whether her friendly greeting on the train indicated that she had forgiven him. Whether the fact that he did not hurt or curse her during the battle had changed her attitude towards him. When he had heard his name come out of her mouth, he had really thought for a moment that she no longer disliked him.
But obviously she still thought the same about him as before. As a fantasy, he was good enough, but for even just one kind word obviously not.
Full of hate, he trudged down the steps towards the dungeons. He would not waste another thought on this woman.