Made Of You Part 8
Disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters.
Draco could not believe this was happening. He could not believe it was Hermione Granger he was kissing, that it was her whom he desired like no other woman. It was absurd, and yet not at all. As their lips fused, he could feel her desire for him mount to its highest peak. God, how he wanted to just take her, then and there. But he couldn't let that happen, not under the current circumstances. He had a job to complete, and it had nothing to do with taking Hermione to bed.
It was the hardest thing he ever did, but Draco suddenly tore his mouth away from hers. He regarded Hermione under glazed eyes, seeing the extent of her passion, and her sudden confusion. Painfully, he dislodged himself off of her, loathing to lose contact with the feel of her skin. He got to his feet somewhat unsteadily, trying to clear his head from her sweet scent and the feel of her body.
On the bed, Hermione had apparently come out of her passionate daze, for it was quite evident that her expression was changing from confusion to anger. Draco knew exactly what was going to happen. She was going to realize the extent of her wanton behavior with him, but will no doubt lay the blame on him, accusing him of seducing her. After the accusation, she was probably going to storm out of Malfoy Manor, which would be a total disaster for his plans. He needed her to get to Potter, and time was running out. If she left now, that would mean the end of everything. Aside from that, he couldn't risk the chance of letting the death-eaters get to her first. That would be worse, far worse.
While brooding all of this, Draco momentarily forgot his surroundings, and was therefore unprepared for Hermione's sudden attack. Lunging off the bed, she ran forward, dealing a heavy blow to his stomach. Draco doubled over, cursing. He waited for the pain in his stomach to slowly ebb away, and then stood up to his full height once again.
He eyed Hermione, who stood in the middle of his room, her hair disheveled, skin glowing pink from their earlier passion. The once elegant Juliet costume she had on now looked worn and wrinkled. However, there was no mistaking the cold fury in her eyes. Draco knew he had hurt much more than just her pride; he had hurt her dignity as well. He took a step forward, thinking of a way to comfort her.
As he advanced towards her, she became frantic, backing away from him as if a beast was upon her. And truthfully, was he that far from being one in the first place, having almost done the unspeakable with Hermione, knowing well that he was going to betray her eventually?
Surprised to have contemplated such thoughts in the first place, Draco quickly shook away all doubts, once again focused on the task at hand. His goal was to keep Hermione at Malfoy Manor until he lured Potter there. Then his plans for destroying Voldemort and Potter would be well on its way to the last stage. However, his current predicament did not seem the least bit pleasant for his ensuing plans. Looking at Hermione now, with her hate-filled eyes, Draco knew that it would take more than mere coaxing to get her to trust him. With resolve, he strode over to her, eating up the space between them until they were less than a foot away from each other. He reached for her, in an attempt to soothe.
"Hermione, let me explain…" he began, but was suddenly cut off when her palm once again came in contact with his right cheek. This was the third time she had slapped him that night.
"You whoreson!" she screamed, "don't you dare come near me! You think to seduce me yet again? Well, you're wrong! Take your lust elsewhere, because I don't want anything to do with it! As far as I'm concerned, you and Pansy are just perfect for each other, a whoreson and a bitch!" As she said this, her body shook. Tears streamed down her pale face.
Draco's control suddenly snapped. Grabbing her by the wrists, he pushed her up against the wall, pinning her arms above her head. He pressed the length of his body against hers, cutting off her struggles effectively. He lowered his face to hers, pinning her with his intense blue eyes, now dark with fury.
"Listen Hermione, I apologize for what happened between us earlier on, but you try me beyond limit. My affairs with Pansy is my own personal business, and I won't have you slandering her in my presence." In reality, Draco didn't give a damn what she said about Pansy. The only thing he wanted to do at that moment was to wipe the look of disgust off her face.
"You damned hypocrite!" she spat. "One minute you play the lover, and the next you tell me not to slander your oh-so-beloved fiancée. Just let me go! I don't want to see your face ever again!"
"No Hermione, I won't let you go, not tonight." He smiled slightly at the sudden look of surprise in her eyes. Even now, while knowing better, his body responded to the feel of her pressed hard against him.
"What do you mean no?!" she cried shrilly. "Have you gone mad, Malfoy? Let me go!" She struggled desperately against his body, arousing him further. Knowing if he didn't let go now he'd lose control again, Draco released Hermione, stepping backwards in order to put space between their bodies. He took a deep breath before continuing.
"Listen Hermione, I need you to stay, but not for the reason you think. Believe it or not, your life is still in danger. What if you happened to get captured by death-eaters on you way home? I could never live with myself if something like that happened." It came as a surprise, but Draco realized he was speaking truthfully.
"Why the hell would you care anyway, if I was caught by death-eaters or not?" Her tone was suspicious, her expression skeptical. Draco knew that if he didn't find a good excuse for her to stay now, his whole plan would go down the drain.
"Do you really want Voldemort to have the satisfaction of getting his hands on you, and maybe who knows? If you were ever captured by him, the things he'd do to you would be much worse than what passed between us tonight." He knew he was going a little too far, but there was no other choice. He would go to extremes in order to get her to stay. "And you don't have to fear my terrorizing you if you stay" he added hastily.
"Somehow, Malfoy, I truly doubt that." However, despite her words, Draco realized that Hermione's facial expression had softened somewhat. He smiled to himself, sensing that victory was not far ahead. Striding towards the door, he flung it open, turning around to face her once again.
"Come, I'll show you to your rooms. You don't have to worry…my parents are not currently in residence."
Sighing, Hermione walked through the open door he held for her, apparently admitting defeat. A sense of elation swept through Draco, knowing he had gained her trust, at least for now. As he silently led Hermione to her rooms, he actually felt gratitude towards Voldemort for having sent those death-eaters after her, for it delivered her right into his trap. And now that the game was in full play, he was going to be damned if he'd let Voldemort get away this time.
********************
It had been two hours since Draco had left Hermione alone in the guest room. Sitting in the study now, he realized he had nothing to do. The brief missive he wrote to Potter about Hermione's apparent "kidnap" had been sent by an owl half an hour ago. It was three o'clock in the morning. He knew he should get some rest, but sleep eluded him. He found himself replaying all the events that had happened that night in his head over and over again. It hurt his head just thinking about everything.
In the process of one night, he had created several problems for himself that would eventually lead to obstacles later on. The biggest problem at hand was whether or not Voldemort knew about Draco's plans. If he did, then all would be lost. However, he reassured himself that Voldemort could not have known about his plans and that the only reason he had tried to capture Hermione in the first place was because his coward of a father had probably told him about Hermione and Harry's past relationship.
But having reassured himself about this situation, he was suddenly reminded of another one: his current predicament with Pansy. Draco knew he should not have acted as harsh as he did towards her that night. However, when he had heard her call Hermione a slut, something had snapped inside of him. He regretted his actions, because now there would be hell to pay for.
Frustrated and angry, Draco decided to push his unpleasant thoughts aside and try once more to get some sleep. As he went upstairs to his room, he found himself stopping in front of Hermione's rooms. The doors were closed, and no sound emanated from the room, but he was curious nonetheless. A picture of Hermione suddenly slipped into his mind, of her barely-clad sleeping form lying on the huge four-poster, her silky red hair fanned out on the pillows, wisps of it caressing her beautiful, pale face.
He had the sudden urge to go through those doors and make love to her endlessly for the rest of the night. He could still remember the feel of her body against his, the taste of her soft lips on his…
Draco suddenly shook himself free of such thoughts, knowing it was ridiculous to want her so badly when he was only using her for his own selfish purposes. He told himself that he would not get close to her at all costs, for in the end, she would only hate him even more. Reminding himself of this, he tore his gaze from the double-oak doors that led to her room, and strode resolutely to his own chambers, not looking back even once.
**********************
She embraced her lover, her arms wrapping themselves tightly around his body. She knew only too well what was going to happen, yet was also aware that there was no way to stop it. The dark winds began to rise again, engulfing her and her lover. Suddenly, a dark, violent force pulled them apart. She tried to grab on to him, but the power of the dark force was too strong. Her head began to spin, dizziness overwhelming her up to the point where she forgot who and where she was. Suddenly, a voice was heard out of the darkness. "He belongs to the darkside, he belongs to me. You will never turn him away from his dark destiny, never!"
"No…!" she shouted, but knew that it was no use, for the dark forces had won. And suddenly, deep, dark despair like she'd never known engulfed her.
***********************
Draco tossed and turned on the bed. His wounded shoulder throbbed persistently due to lack of rest. He tried not to think about Hermione, with her enchantress's beauty that could easily bewitch any male. But try as he might, he could not remove her from his mind. Her image kept intruding upon his thoughts, making it impossible for him to sleep. He was not a man to pine after another woman; it had always been the other way around. However, this time was different, for the mere thought of a sleeping and vulnerable Hermione under his roof drove him mad with desire.
In the middle of his agonizing thoughts, he suddenly heard a scream. It was coming from Hermione's room. He was out of his bed even before the realization had firmly anchored itself.
She cried out again, with a sob.
Draco was at the door, his body tense, his thoughts filled with dire predictions. Without hesitation, he threw back the heavy oak doors, moving like a striking panther; one instant at the door, the next at her bed.
When he saw her, he realized with sudden relief that she was only crying out from a bad dream. He sank down onto the bed beside her thrashing form. The sudden urge to soothe away her nightmares was overwhelming. Gently, he put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her into his embrace. "Hermione" he said huskily, "wake up."
She was whimpering and sobbing. Draco wasn't sure if she was asleep now or awake, but she shifted her body, snuggling closer to him with a sigh. "Wake up", he murmured, his breath touching her brow. The endearment "sweetheart" was on the tip of his tongue. The urge to brush his lips against her brow, and then to taste her tears with his tongue was clamoring for fulfillment.
His chest was bare, and Hermione's small, warm palm slid across its contours and finally anchored on his shoulder. Her face pressed into the broad plane of his chest, wetting his skin with her tears. Draco cupped the back of her head and held her closer. He nuzzled the top of her head, not wanting to let go.
He held her tighter. She clung harder. His inner mind was astounded at what he was doing, comforting her like this. She was the woman he would use, the one he would betray. He had no right to hold her like this, none at all. But instinct warred with reason, and won. He told himself that in the darkness of the night, the rules did not matter. Anything was possible.
He felt the instant of her full awakening. She became still in his embrace, her lashes fluttering against his chest like the teasing of butterfly wings. Draco anticipated what was to come, and tightened his hold, pressing her head closer against him. He had stopped breathing. Apparently, so had she.
With her awareness, he felt awkward, clumsy, and foolish, yet completely reluctant to let her go. And he felt a soaring thrill, like victory, when she did not pull away. Instead, she burrowed her head tighter against his chest, as if he was her haven. Sensing this, Draco did not let go, but held her to him, stroking her hair gently. They stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity until Draco's better sense told him to retreat before things went too far again. Pulling her gently away from him, he looked into her luminous brown eyes, unshed with tears. At that moment, he knew that letting her go would be the hardest thing he ever did in his life.
"Hermione," he whispered hoarsely.
Before he had a chance to continue, she suddenly put her hand to his lips, hushing him. "Please Draco," she pleaded, "stay with me for just a little longer, I don't want you to go just yet." Her words snapped his control. Without another thought, he crushed her to him, claiming her mouth. Surprisingly, she did not resist, but kissed back just as passionately, seeking his tongue fervently with her own. Her passion matched his own, if not more. And as he pressed her down on the bed, he knew that she would be his, even if only for a night.
So how do you like it? I know my writing skills were very lacking on this part, but I am sort of busy with school, plus I'm on the volleyball team. I promise to be more diligent next time, so bear with me for the time being =). Please read and review. Tell me how I should write the next part. Please. I need ideas. And by the way, I have a very dear friend who is a new author. Her pen name is Azn Angel Prncss. Please read her fics and give her some constructive criticisms. She really needs it. Do it as a favor for me =) Thanks! Until next time…