Hermione arrived first, fifteen minutes early actually. Entering the empty classroom she muttered a lighting charm and sat down at one of the desks. After about a minute she stood up and began pacing the room. Then, she sat down again. Another minute passed. "This is ridiculous." She thought. "It's bad enough that I'm meeting him, but I am not waiting for him seated at a desk." Determined not to show any weakness in the strange interaction, Hermione left the room, first dispelling the lighting charm. She would spend the remaining time roaming the corridors, then re-enter on time, or possibly even late.
Shortly after Hermione left, just long enough for them to completely miss each other, Draco entered the deserted room. Setting down a bag on Professor Flitwick's desk, he produced a silver candelabra and candle, and with a quick Incendio set the wick alight. Then sitting on the edge of the desk, he waited.
Draco Malfoy, dressed in black, silver hair gleaming in the flickering candlelight, was utterly gorgeous.
"Wow." was Hermione's first thought. This was followed by "I am in so much trouble" and a more analytical "conceited jerk – posing there like some model." All she said was "I thought you wanted to talk."
"I do. " He looked away from her stare. "I wouldn't object to snogging you senseless but – no don't go – the lights aren't just some romantic cliché, I thought we'd attract less attention from Filch if there was less light."
"Right." Hermione said not knowing if she believed him, and not certain if she wanted to believe him.
"So, have a seat."
Hermione perched on the edge of Flitwick's chair. "Ok, spill it. Why all this? Why me?"
"Which answer won't get me slapped?" Draco mumbled.
"Come on Malfoy."
"I'm getting to it Granger. It's just I'd be more comfortable hexing you."
"Do you want the real reason?"
"Aren't you going to lie to me?"
"I can't think of a good one. I had a whole bunch worked out, but then I remembered something."
"What?"
"You only agreed to meet me after that sickeningly sweet and sincere exchange earlier. Is that how it was with you and Weasley – all honesty and"
"None of your business!"
"Sorry. Just curious how the other sort do it."
"What normal people who believe in treating each other decently? People who don't necessarily have Wizarding blood for eight generations back?"
"No. Yes. Good guys. Heroes."
"This is the most bizarre conversation I've ever had." Hermione said shaking her head slowly. "And that includes the one with Fred and George in the basement of the Burrow."
"So tell me."
"What?"
"Tell me what I have to do to get you to like me, Hermione? And I mean me, not some wind-up wizard imitating Potter, pretending he's happy being second-best."
"This isn't a trick is it? I mean you're not playing games."
"Well, if I am" Draco said, taking her hand, his eyes darkening, "I'm using my true feelings as bait."
Hermione stared at him, her hand still in his. "I don't know. I can't promise that I'll fall in love with you. I won't even promise to try."
"Covering all the bases aren't you." Draco said snidely.
"Draco, I'm sorry. It's just I don't see where I come into this. Why me?"
"Oh. You want flattery? A few pretty words borrowed from some long dead poet? Or maybe I should show you." With his other hand, Draco cupped Hermione's face, and brought his head close to hers.
Light, feathery, hesitant, Draco's lips touched Hermione's, lifted briefly, before he returned his mouth to hers. Heady, intoxicating, urgent. Draco seemed to be trying to communicate more than just a momentary passion. And while they pressed together, Hermione inching closer towards him, her free hand reaching up to the back of his neck, and then the silky softness of his hair, forgot to think about ulterior motives, and old quarrels, let her brain peruse this new fascinating subject, memorizing all the details of this fabulous kiss.
This is what he wanted. This is what he had dreamed of, alone in his dorm. He hadn't truly expected this amazing response. Later, he would rue the too frank conversation leading up to the kiss. He would worry whether Hermione would betray his feelings to her friends, laughing at his vulnerability. He would deny that anything special had happened, that the kiss was worth the risk. For now, Draco soared high and fast, reveling in every moment of the embrace.
They broke apart.
Belatedly, Hermione removed her hand from Draco's grasp. He let her.
"This doesn't mean you've won." She said finally. "I won't go with you to the Yule Ball."
"To hell with the Yule Ball. And what do you mean won? What makes you think this all about me?" Draco asked angrily.
"It is. Isn't it? You said you didn't want to change and everyone knows Draco Malfoy is a selfish, conniving, sneaky, prat." Hermione snarled, furious with herself for caving in.
"Good." Draco snarled back. "When you fall for me, you'll do so with your eyes open. No whining to Potter that I deceived you" The last was uttered to an empty room.
