Title: Curiosity
Rating: R language and sexuality (mmm, sexuality…)
Spoilers: Books
Key: Hermoine/Draco mmm….
Summary: Another rendezvous…
A/N: dafnap got accepted to colleges…dafnap got accepted to colleges…..YAY!!! Now I really don't have to pay attention during Gov!!! Woohoo!!!
**
before
**
She wished for the Night-Bus, and surprising even her, it came.
She didn't realize that she was still connected to anything, much less the magical, simple spells were cake, but Night-Buses meant that...
She didn't ask any more questions of herself, just climbed the steps of the bus and found a warm seat.
Cocoa and marshmallows and pumpkin pie and all sorts of sweets, the conductor let her have them for free, but she couldn't eat them.
Her stomach hurt, and grumbled and turned and she fingered the letter in her pocket once more.
Unsurprisingly, she could not sleep and she didn't, her eyes following the water drops as they moved lazily down the glass pane.
**
now
**
It was autumn, the leaves were colors other than their own, they flitted from the trees and Malfoy paid no mind.
He found himself covering the Hogwarts commons, pacing the grass until it too turned yellow like the leaves. His shoes were muddy and his robes frayed from dragging across the ground.
It had been two weeks since the letter, Potter and Weasley were still out and Malfoy could do nothing.
He was distracted, couldn't study, and couldn't pay attention to anything but the cracks in the walls behind his teachers' heads.
When the night came and Malfoy was in bed, sleep did not follow. The blankets lay curled around his legs, and the window was open as if the room was hot.
The room was close to freezing but Malfoy was...warm, sweating, twisting in his sheets from nightmares and dreams that he had never faced before.
Parents dying and he was crying, and all of these were nightmares because if his parents were really were dead, he would not cry. He would not do much at all, just collect the inheritance and proceed on his way.
But in his dreams...his nightmares, he cried and he beat the ground and he grabbed the soil and he screamed to the heavens over his parents' graves and he did not know why.
Granger hadn't done any of that. Her parents, he imagined, were good and kind and they didn't hit her (he had never seen any bruises). Yet she had never cried, he had never seen her cry.
In his nightmares, with his horrible parents and his bruises and his blood, he cried over them, and here was Granger, with her perfect mud blood parents who never hit her or slapped her around and she wasn't crying.
He didn't know what scared him more.
**
Hermoine stepped gingerly down from the bus, her robes in place, her bag over her shoulder. At the tip of the lake, Hagrid waited for her, a big grin traversing his giant face.
"Hermoine!" He called; his arms already open for a hug that would surely kill her. She approached him warily, afraid of being snapped in half by his glee.
Big, fat, and unfortunately wet tears splashed down from his cheeks and into her hair, and she struggled for breath as he gave her a tight hug.
Realizing that Hermoine hadn't breathed for sometime, Hagrid let her down gently, and helped her into the boat. "Dontcha worry, lass, we'll have you back in the saddle in no time." He looked around for her trunk, turning on his heel and looking under the Night Bus. He turned to her inquisitively, "Where yer bags, 'Moine?"
Unable to meet Hagrid's eyes, Hermoine looked at her mud-scuffed feet, "I'm- " Why weren't words coming? "-Not...uh...staying."
It took a while for Hagrid to catch on, but when he did, his face fell and it seemed as if everything good has left from his features. He looked sad, and a little bit angry.
"Yer not stayin'?" He asked, his voice quiet, and all Hermoine could do was shake her head.
"After-" He stopped himself, as if he would say something that Hermoine didn't want to hear, "Fine then, get on the boat, lets get you moving."
She felt cold again, sitting at the prow of the ship, watching (and not watching) Hagrid row. He did not meet her eyes and Hermoine stopped trying.
**
When they got to the shore, Hagrid left her, letting her carry her own bags. He muttered something about feeding an animal or something and he left her there, at the entrance to Hogwarts.
She turned to look at Hogwarts; her head craning back to follow the spires and the brick.
Hefting her bag onto her shoulder she followed the steps up to the two large doors that signified the entrance to Hogwarts.
At two AM, no one was awake to receive her. Where was Harry or Ron? No matter what the time would be, they would surely meet her, right?
And what did Malfoy want with her?
And why had she even come?
And why did she have so many questions to herself that she couldn't answer.
She moved up the steps slowly, and then quicker, not wanting to wait for anything, just wanting to get this over with and go back...home.
**
Malfoy woke up with a start, he didn't know why, there was no nightmare or sound or anything to prompt him to open his eyes and sit up with fright.
He felt his breath strain against his chest, and he tried to get it under control.
**
She settled into the room that Finch had led her to, it was smaller than her old room, but it was...comfortable. The bed was blush and soft and decorated in her Gryffndor colors.
Was she still a...
The pillow was filled to the brim with feathers and it sunk in as set her head down. The blankets (plural) were so much more.... warm...than those back...home.
Was it her...
She lay there, snuggled under the blankets, the down tickling her nose and keeping her warm and everything was perfect except...she couldn't sleep.
Not settling for another night of searching the cracks in the ceiling, she pushed her self up and out of bed, and padded quietly into the hall.
**
Malfoy was unable to get back to sleep, suddenly it was very hot in his room and he needed to get out.
So he slipped on some robes and cracked his back, stretched and yawned and slipped out of his room in the Slytherin common room.
His head was pounding painfully and there was no one around (awake) that he could pound into the wall to make himself feel better.
The outside hall was cold, and Malfoy pulled his robes around him tighter, his feet going numb from the cement.
He briefly considered going back into the room, going back to sleep and not waking up, but he couldn't, so he trekked down the hall, hoping that he was heading in the opposite direction of the infirmary.
His feet had a different agenda and he found himself climbing down the steps to the infirmary.
**
Someone was already there.
The candle light that seemed to hold constant vigil besides the beds was blocked by the form of a person.
Malfoy almost turned around to run before noticing that the figure was smaller than Hagrid and skinnier than Pomfry.
A mess of curls and locks was held together by a tight rubber band, the candle light turned simple mud blood brown into a thousand colors.
Her shoulders were still, they did not move or shake, they were still.
Her hands lay by her side, not moving.
Her chin did not tremble, her eyes didn't move.
They were brown, blank and empty.
**
"You never apologized for the bruise."
The words snapped her out of her reverie, snapped her out of the nightmare world were everyone was dead and she was alone.
She was not alone.
She turned her head slowly, seeing Malfoy from the edge of her eye.
"What do you want?" She asked, her voice low and tired.
Malfoy ignored her question, sauntering (as much as he could) besides her, his hands in his pockets, false bravado in place, "So you found them, I take it, took you long enough."
Her eyes flashed (emotion), and her voice became angry, "What do you want?" She asked again, her hands clenching and unclenching.
"What I always wanted."
Simple answer and Hermoine felt hate intermingling with pain, "To make fun of me, of Harry or Ron," She thrust her arm out, pointing to the bodies. She was turned angrily towards Malfoy, "You want to make fun of this?" The candle flickered and light was cast briefly on the bloodied and bruised and ...ohgodwhyaren'ttheymoving...
faces.
"Go ahead."
He looked at her, his eyes as blank in the fashion that she had perfected.
"I said I wanted to." He cocked his head to the side, a frown flitting across his features, "Does not mean I can."
"Afraid I would clock you a good one?"
"That's part of it, yeah."
"If you don't keep your mouth shut, you can count on it." She turned back to look at her...friends.
Malfoy couldn't stop his hand from reaching out, from touching her shoulder.
**
With speed Malfoy didn't know she possessed, he found himself pushed up against the wall, a hand pressed against his Adam's apple, the other pushing his shoulder into the wall behind him.
"Don't touch me." Her voice was low and angry and brimming over with emotion. Her eyes were flashing and her mouth was twisted into a frown.
Emotion.
Malfoy drank it in.
"Mud blood." He whispered, a triumphant grin crowning his features, "Welcome back."
She punched him.
Breath whooshed out of him in a startled gasp, and formed into laughter.
Emotion.
"Cunt."
Another punch.
"Slut."
And another and...
"Whore."
...Another.
And soon tears were falling from her eyes, and tiny fists tried to pummel him, to get him to stop talking, to get him to just be quiet, to get him to just shut the fuck up, to get him to stop making her so angry.
Malfoy caught her fists, suddenly not amused by the flurry of punches. He caught her wrists and held them, she moved and she struggled and glared at him with angry and fury and pain...he stared her down.
And she stopped.
Her hair had slipped out of the ponytail, and it lay limply against her shoulders, and suddenly she was tired and she felt her body sagged
And suddenly Malfoy was kissing her, thin cold lips pressing into her own, a slick tongue slipping into her mouth pushing against her teeth, and then her tongue.
Malfoy still held her wrists and now he held her mouth as well, with his mouth, with his tongue, with lips.
She struggled at first, and then fell into it, falling into his mouth blindly.
This is...
"Malfoy!" She shouted, wrenching herself free, staring at him with the same mixture of anger and pain, with some shock thrown into the mix, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
**
His hands were empty and so was his mouth and Malfoy was very confused.
Where was he and what was he doing with Hermoine on his breath?
A confused finger lifted to his lips, and they came away wet.
Hermoine was looking at him angrily, her hand swiped at her lips, as if to try and rub them clean.
He had kissed...a mud blood.
"Bloody HELL!" He shouted, "BLOODY HELL!" He tried to wipe his lips but nothing seemed to get them clean.
"Don't come near me, or here, again." She pointed to the door, "Leave or I'll scream."
"Me first," He muttered, pushing past her, "Before I kill myself."
He stomped out of the room, pulling his robe tighter around his body, and trying to forget the feel of her lips.
Hermoine wiped her face angrily with her hands, as if doing so would make Malfoy get off her skin.
It didn't work and she still felt dirty.
And she remembered his lips and his tong-
NO!!!
**
till next time, same bat time, same bat channel!
**
if it had been me, I sure as hell wouldn't complain…but then again…
Hate it? Like it? Love it and want to sing "Save the Last Dance" courteousy of the local mariachi band? Tell me! Feedback rocks! YOU ROCK!
-dafnap
ps: rock on…
Rating: R language and sexuality (mmm, sexuality…)
Spoilers: Books
Key: Hermoine/Draco mmm….
Summary: Another rendezvous…
A/N: dafnap got accepted to colleges…dafnap got accepted to colleges…..YAY!!! Now I really don't have to pay attention during Gov!!! Woohoo!!!
**
before
**
She wished for the Night-Bus, and surprising even her, it came.
She didn't realize that she was still connected to anything, much less the magical, simple spells were cake, but Night-Buses meant that...
She didn't ask any more questions of herself, just climbed the steps of the bus and found a warm seat.
Cocoa and marshmallows and pumpkin pie and all sorts of sweets, the conductor let her have them for free, but she couldn't eat them.
Her stomach hurt, and grumbled and turned and she fingered the letter in her pocket once more.
Unsurprisingly, she could not sleep and she didn't, her eyes following the water drops as they moved lazily down the glass pane.
**
now
**
It was autumn, the leaves were colors other than their own, they flitted from the trees and Malfoy paid no mind.
He found himself covering the Hogwarts commons, pacing the grass until it too turned yellow like the leaves. His shoes were muddy and his robes frayed from dragging across the ground.
It had been two weeks since the letter, Potter and Weasley were still out and Malfoy could do nothing.
He was distracted, couldn't study, and couldn't pay attention to anything but the cracks in the walls behind his teachers' heads.
When the night came and Malfoy was in bed, sleep did not follow. The blankets lay curled around his legs, and the window was open as if the room was hot.
The room was close to freezing but Malfoy was...warm, sweating, twisting in his sheets from nightmares and dreams that he had never faced before.
Parents dying and he was crying, and all of these were nightmares because if his parents were really were dead, he would not cry. He would not do much at all, just collect the inheritance and proceed on his way.
But in his dreams...his nightmares, he cried and he beat the ground and he grabbed the soil and he screamed to the heavens over his parents' graves and he did not know why.
Granger hadn't done any of that. Her parents, he imagined, were good and kind and they didn't hit her (he had never seen any bruises). Yet she had never cried, he had never seen her cry.
In his nightmares, with his horrible parents and his bruises and his blood, he cried over them, and here was Granger, with her perfect mud blood parents who never hit her or slapped her around and she wasn't crying.
He didn't know what scared him more.
**
Hermoine stepped gingerly down from the bus, her robes in place, her bag over her shoulder. At the tip of the lake, Hagrid waited for her, a big grin traversing his giant face.
"Hermoine!" He called; his arms already open for a hug that would surely kill her. She approached him warily, afraid of being snapped in half by his glee.
Big, fat, and unfortunately wet tears splashed down from his cheeks and into her hair, and she struggled for breath as he gave her a tight hug.
Realizing that Hermoine hadn't breathed for sometime, Hagrid let her down gently, and helped her into the boat. "Dontcha worry, lass, we'll have you back in the saddle in no time." He looked around for her trunk, turning on his heel and looking under the Night Bus. He turned to her inquisitively, "Where yer bags, 'Moine?"
Unable to meet Hagrid's eyes, Hermoine looked at her mud-scuffed feet, "I'm- " Why weren't words coming? "-Not...uh...staying."
It took a while for Hagrid to catch on, but when he did, his face fell and it seemed as if everything good has left from his features. He looked sad, and a little bit angry.
"Yer not stayin'?" He asked, his voice quiet, and all Hermoine could do was shake her head.
"After-" He stopped himself, as if he would say something that Hermoine didn't want to hear, "Fine then, get on the boat, lets get you moving."
She felt cold again, sitting at the prow of the ship, watching (and not watching) Hagrid row. He did not meet her eyes and Hermoine stopped trying.
**
When they got to the shore, Hagrid left her, letting her carry her own bags. He muttered something about feeding an animal or something and he left her there, at the entrance to Hogwarts.
She turned to look at Hogwarts; her head craning back to follow the spires and the brick.
Hefting her bag onto her shoulder she followed the steps up to the two large doors that signified the entrance to Hogwarts.
At two AM, no one was awake to receive her. Where was Harry or Ron? No matter what the time would be, they would surely meet her, right?
And what did Malfoy want with her?
And why had she even come?
And why did she have so many questions to herself that she couldn't answer.
She moved up the steps slowly, and then quicker, not wanting to wait for anything, just wanting to get this over with and go back...home.
**
Malfoy woke up with a start, he didn't know why, there was no nightmare or sound or anything to prompt him to open his eyes and sit up with fright.
He felt his breath strain against his chest, and he tried to get it under control.
**
She settled into the room that Finch had led her to, it was smaller than her old room, but it was...comfortable. The bed was blush and soft and decorated in her Gryffndor colors.
Was she still a...
The pillow was filled to the brim with feathers and it sunk in as set her head down. The blankets (plural) were so much more.... warm...than those back...home.
Was it her...
She lay there, snuggled under the blankets, the down tickling her nose and keeping her warm and everything was perfect except...she couldn't sleep.
Not settling for another night of searching the cracks in the ceiling, she pushed her self up and out of bed, and padded quietly into the hall.
**
Malfoy was unable to get back to sleep, suddenly it was very hot in his room and he needed to get out.
So he slipped on some robes and cracked his back, stretched and yawned and slipped out of his room in the Slytherin common room.
His head was pounding painfully and there was no one around (awake) that he could pound into the wall to make himself feel better.
The outside hall was cold, and Malfoy pulled his robes around him tighter, his feet going numb from the cement.
He briefly considered going back into the room, going back to sleep and not waking up, but he couldn't, so he trekked down the hall, hoping that he was heading in the opposite direction of the infirmary.
His feet had a different agenda and he found himself climbing down the steps to the infirmary.
**
Someone was already there.
The candle light that seemed to hold constant vigil besides the beds was blocked by the form of a person.
Malfoy almost turned around to run before noticing that the figure was smaller than Hagrid and skinnier than Pomfry.
A mess of curls and locks was held together by a tight rubber band, the candle light turned simple mud blood brown into a thousand colors.
Her shoulders were still, they did not move or shake, they were still.
Her hands lay by her side, not moving.
Her chin did not tremble, her eyes didn't move.
They were brown, blank and empty.
**
"You never apologized for the bruise."
The words snapped her out of her reverie, snapped her out of the nightmare world were everyone was dead and she was alone.
She was not alone.
She turned her head slowly, seeing Malfoy from the edge of her eye.
"What do you want?" She asked, her voice low and tired.
Malfoy ignored her question, sauntering (as much as he could) besides her, his hands in his pockets, false bravado in place, "So you found them, I take it, took you long enough."
Her eyes flashed (emotion), and her voice became angry, "What do you want?" She asked again, her hands clenching and unclenching.
"What I always wanted."
Simple answer and Hermoine felt hate intermingling with pain, "To make fun of me, of Harry or Ron," She thrust her arm out, pointing to the bodies. She was turned angrily towards Malfoy, "You want to make fun of this?" The candle flickered and light was cast briefly on the bloodied and bruised and ...ohgodwhyaren'ttheymoving...
faces.
"Go ahead."
He looked at her, his eyes as blank in the fashion that she had perfected.
"I said I wanted to." He cocked his head to the side, a frown flitting across his features, "Does not mean I can."
"Afraid I would clock you a good one?"
"That's part of it, yeah."
"If you don't keep your mouth shut, you can count on it." She turned back to look at her...friends.
Malfoy couldn't stop his hand from reaching out, from touching her shoulder.
**
With speed Malfoy didn't know she possessed, he found himself pushed up against the wall, a hand pressed against his Adam's apple, the other pushing his shoulder into the wall behind him.
"Don't touch me." Her voice was low and angry and brimming over with emotion. Her eyes were flashing and her mouth was twisted into a frown.
Emotion.
Malfoy drank it in.
"Mud blood." He whispered, a triumphant grin crowning his features, "Welcome back."
She punched him.
Breath whooshed out of him in a startled gasp, and formed into laughter.
Emotion.
"Cunt."
Another punch.
"Slut."
And another and...
"Whore."
...Another.
And soon tears were falling from her eyes, and tiny fists tried to pummel him, to get him to stop talking, to get him to just be quiet, to get him to just shut the fuck up, to get him to stop making her so angry.
Malfoy caught her fists, suddenly not amused by the flurry of punches. He caught her wrists and held them, she moved and she struggled and glared at him with angry and fury and pain...he stared her down.
And she stopped.
Her hair had slipped out of the ponytail, and it lay limply against her shoulders, and suddenly she was tired and she felt her body sagged
And suddenly Malfoy was kissing her, thin cold lips pressing into her own, a slick tongue slipping into her mouth pushing against her teeth, and then her tongue.
Malfoy still held her wrists and now he held her mouth as well, with his mouth, with his tongue, with lips.
She struggled at first, and then fell into it, falling into his mouth blindly.
This is...
"Malfoy!" She shouted, wrenching herself free, staring at him with the same mixture of anger and pain, with some shock thrown into the mix, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
**
His hands were empty and so was his mouth and Malfoy was very confused.
Where was he and what was he doing with Hermoine on his breath?
A confused finger lifted to his lips, and they came away wet.
Hermoine was looking at him angrily, her hand swiped at her lips, as if to try and rub them clean.
He had kissed...a mud blood.
"Bloody HELL!" He shouted, "BLOODY HELL!" He tried to wipe his lips but nothing seemed to get them clean.
"Don't come near me, or here, again." She pointed to the door, "Leave or I'll scream."
"Me first," He muttered, pushing past her, "Before I kill myself."
He stomped out of the room, pulling his robe tighter around his body, and trying to forget the feel of her lips.
Hermoine wiped her face angrily with her hands, as if doing so would make Malfoy get off her skin.
It didn't work and she still felt dirty.
And she remembered his lips and his tong-
NO!!!
**
till next time, same bat time, same bat channel!
**
if it had been me, I sure as hell wouldn't complain…but then again…
Hate it? Like it? Love it and want to sing "Save the Last Dance" courteousy of the local mariachi band? Tell me! Feedback rocks! YOU ROCK!
-dafnap
ps: rock on…