Title: Curiosity
Rating: R language and sexuality…
Spoilers: Books
Key: Hermoine/Draco mmm….
Summary: Draco, pissed off and not really wanting answers, just a good nights rest, has to deal with Hermoine first
A/N: Screw tests, this is much more fun…
**
before
**
"What are you doing?" Malfoy whispered savagely at her, suddenly aware that it was very much nighttime, and they were both very much past curfew.
"Trying-" She muttered,"-to get away from you."
"Maybe think about that before you slap next time."
"Well...you kissed me!"
"And that has to do with slapping me?"
"Well..." And Hermoine stopped moving for a second to think about that, "...Yeah."
Malfoy opened his mouth to say something, something that would be mean, or insulting, or witty...at least something witty.
But before he could think of something, a wave of dizziness and nausea broadsided him and left him breathless.
He felt his arms go weak. They felt as if they were going to break.
And he fell.
He landed atop of the mud blood, unconscious.
**
now
**
Hermoine was in a situation.
Currently, she was trapped beneath a very not-awake Malfoy. He was breathing, this she was certain, but he wasn't doing much else.
And he was heavy.
She never realized how heavy eighteen year olds could be. He didn't look heavy; he always looked lean, but never this heavy.
She was almost unable to breath. Almost; she exhaled in shallow breaths, afraid to do anything.
He wasn't dead.
But he felt like it.
She sucked in a breath, and placed her hands on both of his shoulders. As she let out her breath she pushed, rolling him over and off her. He landed with a thump, but did not move.
Hermoine pushed herself up, and tucked in her knees.
Malfoy still didn't move.
Hermoine, struck by the deja vu briefly, reached out with a careful hand to shake him.
Nothing.
The scars, from the cuts and the bruises, glowed dully in the little light that filtered into the room from the moon.
She shook him harder.
Nothing.
So she did the only thing she could think of: she slapped him.
Hard.
**
Malfoy, for the second time that day, woke up to searing, pain. It began at his right cheekbone and flared from there. The pain, like the wake left by a droplet of water, radiated outwards, leaving behind a blinding, pounding headache.
He sat up straight, a hand on his cheek, "Fuck." He shouted, "FUCK!"
That's when he first spotted Granger, already on her feet, her arms crossed, the look already pointed his way.
And...and what was he doing on the floor?
He tried to push himself up, but he only managed to get dizzy. The room spun with such ferocity that he almost ended up back on the floor, if it hadn't been for Granger.
She caught him.
She almost buckled under his weight, but was able to hold him up until he found his balance and feebly pushed her away.
"What did you do to me?" He hissed, trying to focus on one point of the room, "What the fuck did you do?"
Granger just crossed her arms again and looked at him crossly, "What did I do?" She stepped closer to Malfoy, "What did I do?" Her face was close to his, but she didn't notice, "This is all your fault," She poked him in the chest, "You made like a narcoleptic, and you fell on me."
Malfoy couldn't find an answer to that, and decided his best course of action would be just to limp away.
And limp like a gimp he did.
But he didn't get far, Granger's hand flew out, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him to face her, "Where do you think you're going?"
He looked at her as if she were stupid, "Away...more specifically, away from you." He cocked his head to the side, "That is what you wanted, correct?"
Hermoine didn't answer; she looked down at her feet.
Did she? Is that what she really wanted: To have yet another person leave her alone?
She looked up at him; her eyes back to the blank brown that sent a cold front down Malfoy's spine.
"That's right...go." She turned away from him, her arms crossed, looking back into the stacks, waiting for him to leave, "Just...leave."
And suddenly Malfoy lost the urge. He couldn't bring himself to limp away. Actually, now that he thought of it, he was a bit pissed.
How dare she...
And a bit curious as well.
...What would she do if he kissed her again?
Try as he might, he couldn't fight the urge to open his mouth and say something stupid.
He remembered quiet clearly what curiosity had gotten him into. It had thrown him into Granger's little melodrama, and if he gave into curiosity again, he probably wouldn't be able to escape.
But he couldn't stop himself.
With a tone that was a combination of hard and calm, he spoke, "What the bloody hell is wrong with you Granger?"
She spun around to him angrily, her eyes dropping the facade of indifference, "What's wrong with me? If you forgot, let me enlighten you." She began to move closer to him.
Her body thrummed with energy, a combination of nervous excitement and righteous anger, "You," she poked him the chest and Malfoy was struck with deja vu, "Were the one that hit me, if I recall." She poked him again, "And you were the one that sent me all those mean letters when you knew, you knew that she had died." She stepped closer and poked him again, "It was you that kissed me, and you that got yourself caught in the whooping willow. To have any illusions about yourself Malfoy, you are," She poked him one last time, "A stupid git if you even imagine that any of this is my fault."
Malfoy barred his teeth, "I did not know that your mum had died. If I did-"
"What-You would be more considerate? Malfoy, don't fool yourself, you are not in the least considerate."
"-I wouldn't have sent that letter," He thought for a moment, "At least not right then anyway."
Hermoine glared at him, and then returned to her deconstruction of the bookcase with her eyes, "Whatever you would have done is too late. Now make yourself useful and leave," She waved her hand, "Or die, whatever."
As the words left her mouth, Hermoine knew it was a mistake, in fact even before she finished 'whatever' she felt herself being propelled against a bookcase.
With Malfoy's right arm, the one that didn't throb with pain as much as the left, he pinned her against the books, a couple of flimsy hardbacks already toppling to the floor with a clatter.
He leaned in, his voice somewhere between a whisper and growl, with a hint of..."Is that what you want, Granger?" He tightened his hold on her robes, pulling her face closer to his own, "Do you want me dead?"
She didn't know how to answer so she nodded dumbly.
Something sounded like a laugh, but Hermoine would never be sure, escaped from his lips, and despite the pain that resonated deep within his arm, he tightened his hold even more.
"Like your father?" He whispered, and Hermoine struggled, her arms pushing weakly against his chest. Draco leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear, his breath sneaking it's way into her brain as whispered again, "Like your...mum?"
Hermoine stopped struggling.
He had hit a nerve, an open, bleeding sore of a nerve.
He pulled back slightly, his nose just inches from hers, his eyes trying their hardest to break into hers.
So shifted her gaze until it was focused solely on Magical Ointments: Volume III. The book had a red hardbound cover, and the pages were tipped with gold and-
-Malfoy's lips were hovering just above her own, his breath, taunt and cold, tickling her nose.
"Get over it." He whispered just before she tilted her head and his lips touched hers, just before his tongue snaked out and pressed against her teeth, just before Hermoine brought her free hand up, and around Malfoy's neck, pushing his head closer, his tongue closer, him closer.
**
The kiss didn't last long because Malfoy pushed her away, is hands finding her shoulders between the tangle of arms and legs and robes.
He pushed her away, stepping back, holding her at arms length.
He looked confused, worried, the anger was gone, replaced with..."What are you doing?"
Hermoine, confused, bothered, and a bit put out, looked at him, cross, "Kissing you."
Is hands dropped from her shoulder where they had been making deep grooves, he turned away from her, his shoulders hunched, "I thought so," He looked back at her, "Why?"
She shrugged, nervous, unable to find an answer, "I didn't really have a choice now, did I? I mean, you kissed me."
He cocked his head to the side, "No, Granger, if I recall correctly, you," He pointed at her with a scar-lined finger, "Kissed me."
"No-" Hermoine began, than stopped, thinking back to just moments prior, "But-"
Malfoy raised an eyebrow.
She sighed, a petulant sound more fitting for a small child than an eighteen-year-old girl, "Because I wanted to." She answered lamely.
He laughed, it was low and bitter, and pulled the robe around his shoulders tighter.
It was cold.
He looked Hermoine, noticed her flushed cheeks, and the way her hand shook as she clasped the ends of her robe, and the flash of insight hit him like a two-ton bus.
But he didn't say anything. He just looked at her, crossed his arms, and watched her some more.
Hermoine felt her stomach twitch, and she wiped her mouth with a sweaty hand, "What are you looking at?"
He sighed, anger mixed with frustration, "You. I don't get it."
"Get what?"
"What the big deal is."
She looked at him, her turn to be confused, "Excuse me?"
"Why do you care so fucking much?"
"About..." She trailed off, waiting for him to finish her sentence.
Malfoy didn't give her the pleasure, just shrugged his shoulders, "So what, your parents are dead, your two best friends are vegetables, and what do you do?" He waved a hand, as if including the library as whole, "You come here, to cry? Bleeding childish if you ask me."
"Childish? Malfoy, childish is when someone accosts you on the halls for not apologizing about a bloody accident, childish is someone who throws a fit when he feels like he's being ignored. Childish, Malfoy, is someone like you." She laughed bitterly, her arms around her waist as if she were cold.
Malfoy felt like laughing he really did, "I guess you could say we're both acting like lil' twits then." He tipped his head, "Fine, Granger, I'll leave you to your mourning, I've got better things to do." He began to walk away, a slight limp marring his gait.
It was Hermoine who spoke last, as he passed the threshold of the library, back into the halls of Hogwart's.
She didn't think he heard her, and for that, momentarily, she was grateful, "Fuck you Malfoy." Se whispered, slipping down to the floor again, her arms gripping tighter her shoulders as she hunkered down, "Fuck you."
And then she cried, she felt awfully pathetic, sitting in between stacks 234 and 244, with her robe wrapped around her knees.
She felt...stupid.
Useless.
**
Malfoy wasn't feeling to good himself.
In fact, the more he limped, the more his scars flared up, and he felt the weirdest dizzying sensation. It snuck up his back, slowly, until he was faced with full frontal vertigo.
It was there, on the stairwell leading back to the medical wing, that he was hit was something other than vertigo or dizziness, or anything else.
He was hit with...guilt.
Surprisingly, he was getting used to the feeling, the guilt, the anger, the confusion, it was all rolled up into a tight, hard, ball of twine that rested neatly in the pit of his stomach.
What had he been thinking?
This was Granger, mud blood, waste of time. Not worth the energy and the self-hate that he was putting into all of this.
On the other hand...
There was no other hand, Malfoy slammed his good hand into the wall, out of frustration, out of anger.
There was no other hand...just-
It was then that Malfoy realized that his hand was bleeding. He hissed in pain and brought the errant knuckle to his mouth, trying to get the blood off.
It tasted nasty.
Metallic
He winced, and made his way back to his cot and under the covers, grateful that Mrs. Pomfry had fallen asleep on a pile of books, grateful that Potter and Weasley were too far gone to care, and grateful that blankets and pillows didn't have the ability to talk back, and didn't hurt him back when he punched them.
**
tbc…
**
I really want to be British, so I can get away with saying bloody hell all the damn time….sigh….
-dafnap
read, review, and all will be right with the world….well, except for the emus, they will never be right….
Rating: R language and sexuality…
Spoilers: Books
Key: Hermoine/Draco mmm….
Summary: Draco, pissed off and not really wanting answers, just a good nights rest, has to deal with Hermoine first
A/N: Screw tests, this is much more fun…
**
before
**
"What are you doing?" Malfoy whispered savagely at her, suddenly aware that it was very much nighttime, and they were both very much past curfew.
"Trying-" She muttered,"-to get away from you."
"Maybe think about that before you slap next time."
"Well...you kissed me!"
"And that has to do with slapping me?"
"Well..." And Hermoine stopped moving for a second to think about that, "...Yeah."
Malfoy opened his mouth to say something, something that would be mean, or insulting, or witty...at least something witty.
But before he could think of something, a wave of dizziness and nausea broadsided him and left him breathless.
He felt his arms go weak. They felt as if they were going to break.
And he fell.
He landed atop of the mud blood, unconscious.
**
now
**
Hermoine was in a situation.
Currently, she was trapped beneath a very not-awake Malfoy. He was breathing, this she was certain, but he wasn't doing much else.
And he was heavy.
She never realized how heavy eighteen year olds could be. He didn't look heavy; he always looked lean, but never this heavy.
She was almost unable to breath. Almost; she exhaled in shallow breaths, afraid to do anything.
He wasn't dead.
But he felt like it.
She sucked in a breath, and placed her hands on both of his shoulders. As she let out her breath she pushed, rolling him over and off her. He landed with a thump, but did not move.
Hermoine pushed herself up, and tucked in her knees.
Malfoy still didn't move.
Hermoine, struck by the deja vu briefly, reached out with a careful hand to shake him.
Nothing.
The scars, from the cuts and the bruises, glowed dully in the little light that filtered into the room from the moon.
She shook him harder.
Nothing.
So she did the only thing she could think of: she slapped him.
Hard.
**
Malfoy, for the second time that day, woke up to searing, pain. It began at his right cheekbone and flared from there. The pain, like the wake left by a droplet of water, radiated outwards, leaving behind a blinding, pounding headache.
He sat up straight, a hand on his cheek, "Fuck." He shouted, "FUCK!"
That's when he first spotted Granger, already on her feet, her arms crossed, the look already pointed his way.
And...and what was he doing on the floor?
He tried to push himself up, but he only managed to get dizzy. The room spun with such ferocity that he almost ended up back on the floor, if it hadn't been for Granger.
She caught him.
She almost buckled under his weight, but was able to hold him up until he found his balance and feebly pushed her away.
"What did you do to me?" He hissed, trying to focus on one point of the room, "What the fuck did you do?"
Granger just crossed her arms again and looked at him crossly, "What did I do?" She stepped closer to Malfoy, "What did I do?" Her face was close to his, but she didn't notice, "This is all your fault," She poked him in the chest, "You made like a narcoleptic, and you fell on me."
Malfoy couldn't find an answer to that, and decided his best course of action would be just to limp away.
And limp like a gimp he did.
But he didn't get far, Granger's hand flew out, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him to face her, "Where do you think you're going?"
He looked at her as if she were stupid, "Away...more specifically, away from you." He cocked his head to the side, "That is what you wanted, correct?"
Hermoine didn't answer; she looked down at her feet.
Did she? Is that what she really wanted: To have yet another person leave her alone?
She looked up at him; her eyes back to the blank brown that sent a cold front down Malfoy's spine.
"That's right...go." She turned away from him, her arms crossed, looking back into the stacks, waiting for him to leave, "Just...leave."
And suddenly Malfoy lost the urge. He couldn't bring himself to limp away. Actually, now that he thought of it, he was a bit pissed.
How dare she...
And a bit curious as well.
...What would she do if he kissed her again?
Try as he might, he couldn't fight the urge to open his mouth and say something stupid.
He remembered quiet clearly what curiosity had gotten him into. It had thrown him into Granger's little melodrama, and if he gave into curiosity again, he probably wouldn't be able to escape.
But he couldn't stop himself.
With a tone that was a combination of hard and calm, he spoke, "What the bloody hell is wrong with you Granger?"
She spun around to him angrily, her eyes dropping the facade of indifference, "What's wrong with me? If you forgot, let me enlighten you." She began to move closer to him.
Her body thrummed with energy, a combination of nervous excitement and righteous anger, "You," she poked him the chest and Malfoy was struck with deja vu, "Were the one that hit me, if I recall." She poked him again, "And you were the one that sent me all those mean letters when you knew, you knew that she had died." She stepped closer and poked him again, "It was you that kissed me, and you that got yourself caught in the whooping willow. To have any illusions about yourself Malfoy, you are," She poked him one last time, "A stupid git if you even imagine that any of this is my fault."
Malfoy barred his teeth, "I did not know that your mum had died. If I did-"
"What-You would be more considerate? Malfoy, don't fool yourself, you are not in the least considerate."
"-I wouldn't have sent that letter," He thought for a moment, "At least not right then anyway."
Hermoine glared at him, and then returned to her deconstruction of the bookcase with her eyes, "Whatever you would have done is too late. Now make yourself useful and leave," She waved her hand, "Or die, whatever."
As the words left her mouth, Hermoine knew it was a mistake, in fact even before she finished 'whatever' she felt herself being propelled against a bookcase.
With Malfoy's right arm, the one that didn't throb with pain as much as the left, he pinned her against the books, a couple of flimsy hardbacks already toppling to the floor with a clatter.
He leaned in, his voice somewhere between a whisper and growl, with a hint of..."Is that what you want, Granger?" He tightened his hold on her robes, pulling her face closer to his own, "Do you want me dead?"
She didn't know how to answer so she nodded dumbly.
Something sounded like a laugh, but Hermoine would never be sure, escaped from his lips, and despite the pain that resonated deep within his arm, he tightened his hold even more.
"Like your father?" He whispered, and Hermoine struggled, her arms pushing weakly against his chest. Draco leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear, his breath sneaking it's way into her brain as whispered again, "Like your...mum?"
Hermoine stopped struggling.
He had hit a nerve, an open, bleeding sore of a nerve.
He pulled back slightly, his nose just inches from hers, his eyes trying their hardest to break into hers.
So shifted her gaze until it was focused solely on Magical Ointments: Volume III. The book had a red hardbound cover, and the pages were tipped with gold and-
-Malfoy's lips were hovering just above her own, his breath, taunt and cold, tickling her nose.
"Get over it." He whispered just before she tilted her head and his lips touched hers, just before his tongue snaked out and pressed against her teeth, just before Hermoine brought her free hand up, and around Malfoy's neck, pushing his head closer, his tongue closer, him closer.
**
The kiss didn't last long because Malfoy pushed her away, is hands finding her shoulders between the tangle of arms and legs and robes.
He pushed her away, stepping back, holding her at arms length.
He looked confused, worried, the anger was gone, replaced with..."What are you doing?"
Hermoine, confused, bothered, and a bit put out, looked at him, cross, "Kissing you."
Is hands dropped from her shoulder where they had been making deep grooves, he turned away from her, his shoulders hunched, "I thought so," He looked back at her, "Why?"
She shrugged, nervous, unable to find an answer, "I didn't really have a choice now, did I? I mean, you kissed me."
He cocked his head to the side, "No, Granger, if I recall correctly, you," He pointed at her with a scar-lined finger, "Kissed me."
"No-" Hermoine began, than stopped, thinking back to just moments prior, "But-"
Malfoy raised an eyebrow.
She sighed, a petulant sound more fitting for a small child than an eighteen-year-old girl, "Because I wanted to." She answered lamely.
He laughed, it was low and bitter, and pulled the robe around his shoulders tighter.
It was cold.
He looked Hermoine, noticed her flushed cheeks, and the way her hand shook as she clasped the ends of her robe, and the flash of insight hit him like a two-ton bus.
But he didn't say anything. He just looked at her, crossed his arms, and watched her some more.
Hermoine felt her stomach twitch, and she wiped her mouth with a sweaty hand, "What are you looking at?"
He sighed, anger mixed with frustration, "You. I don't get it."
"Get what?"
"What the big deal is."
She looked at him, her turn to be confused, "Excuse me?"
"Why do you care so fucking much?"
"About..." She trailed off, waiting for him to finish her sentence.
Malfoy didn't give her the pleasure, just shrugged his shoulders, "So what, your parents are dead, your two best friends are vegetables, and what do you do?" He waved a hand, as if including the library as whole, "You come here, to cry? Bleeding childish if you ask me."
"Childish? Malfoy, childish is when someone accosts you on the halls for not apologizing about a bloody accident, childish is someone who throws a fit when he feels like he's being ignored. Childish, Malfoy, is someone like you." She laughed bitterly, her arms around her waist as if she were cold.
Malfoy felt like laughing he really did, "I guess you could say we're both acting like lil' twits then." He tipped his head, "Fine, Granger, I'll leave you to your mourning, I've got better things to do." He began to walk away, a slight limp marring his gait.
It was Hermoine who spoke last, as he passed the threshold of the library, back into the halls of Hogwart's.
She didn't think he heard her, and for that, momentarily, she was grateful, "Fuck you Malfoy." Se whispered, slipping down to the floor again, her arms gripping tighter her shoulders as she hunkered down, "Fuck you."
And then she cried, she felt awfully pathetic, sitting in between stacks 234 and 244, with her robe wrapped around her knees.
She felt...stupid.
Useless.
**
Malfoy wasn't feeling to good himself.
In fact, the more he limped, the more his scars flared up, and he felt the weirdest dizzying sensation. It snuck up his back, slowly, until he was faced with full frontal vertigo.
It was there, on the stairwell leading back to the medical wing, that he was hit was something other than vertigo or dizziness, or anything else.
He was hit with...guilt.
Surprisingly, he was getting used to the feeling, the guilt, the anger, the confusion, it was all rolled up into a tight, hard, ball of twine that rested neatly in the pit of his stomach.
What had he been thinking?
This was Granger, mud blood, waste of time. Not worth the energy and the self-hate that he was putting into all of this.
On the other hand...
There was no other hand, Malfoy slammed his good hand into the wall, out of frustration, out of anger.
There was no other hand...just-
It was then that Malfoy realized that his hand was bleeding. He hissed in pain and brought the errant knuckle to his mouth, trying to get the blood off.
It tasted nasty.
Metallic
He winced, and made his way back to his cot and under the covers, grateful that Mrs. Pomfry had fallen asleep on a pile of books, grateful that Potter and Weasley were too far gone to care, and grateful that blankets and pillows didn't have the ability to talk back, and didn't hurt him back when he punched them.
**
tbc…
**
I really want to be British, so I can get away with saying bloody hell all the damn time….sigh….
-dafnap
read, review, and all will be right with the world….well, except for the emus, they will never be right….