Burn
His prying eyes swept away off her sleeping figure at once. He rubbed his eyes, immensely disturbed that he would ever watch her sleep. She was just a mere servant, a slave, after all. She wasn't a real death eater, she didn't kill for the hell of it. No, she was a pure Gryffindor, with intent morals. Wasn't she? He could've sworn the night that she killed one of the Weasleys that she was not any more innocent than he was.
She was different than at Hogwarts, with more bushy-hair and a hobby to keep talking. Now, she was much more silent, black circles under her eyes, her hair unbrushed and unwavering, and her brown, wide eyes pale. She seemed as if she would fall asleep in their usual meetings, and the only time she made a movement was to get up in the morning to brush her teeth tiredly and shower without concern. He was frustrated, he knew. He wanted to see Hermione Granger at her rough side, the same one that insisted she kill Ronald Weasley.
Of course, that would be to put the Imperius spell on her once more, and he cared not to do that, because that would be more tiring for her. He wanted her to do it by herself, not under control of a stronger force of evil.
"Draco?" a soft voice whispered. He looked up from his thoughts and his heart leaped, racing. It was Hermione, who was blinking, looking toward him in surprise.
"Yes. I - I wanted to make sure you got up in time for the meeting," he barked unintentionally.
"It's four o'clock in the morning," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, well, you always get up late," he lied.
"No I don't..." her voice sounded softer, even...nicer? Usually she would not speak to him at all.
"Quit your yapping, Granger, and get up and get dressed. I want to get there early," Draco finally snapped, looking at her expectantly.
"I don't want to. Wake me up later," groaned Hermione, turning over. Draco clenched his fists. Who was she to disobey him?
"No!" he said, tugging at her arm. "You will do as I say," he pulled his wand from his robes and pointed it at her with promise; "Or else."
To his shock, Hermione gave a small laugh. It startled him deeply. She NEVER laughed. In fact, she never showed any emotion at all. To him, at least.
"You don't scare me, Draco. Bossy...I like it," she hissed. Draco gaped in confusion as she shut her eyes and slept, facedown on her pillow.
Bossy? She liked it? What kind of a tone had she said that? Was it possible that she was flirting with him? She must've been sleepy, that's all, he thought to himself reassuringly. No way would Hermione Granger ever flirt with the man that caused her whole life to crumble. No, it was just Granger sleepy-eyed and when we get to the meeting, it would all be forgotten.
-*- He was right. Partly, anyway. At promptly six o'clock, Hermione went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, showered cleanly and got dressed in thick robes with a hood on, and Draco did the same, and they spoke nothing to each other except small phrases such as 'Hurry the hell up' or 'Did you steal my toothbrush again?' and after exactly thirty minutes, they arrived from Aparation to the meeting.
However, though Hermione was completely oblivious about what had happened and went on to her usual ritual of frowning and looking content throughout the whole meeting, which consisted of Death Eaters suggesting where they should attack next. After about an hour of the meeting, Hermione and Draco apparated home to get rest or eat, because in about three hours, they would be attacking another side of London soon.
While Draco collapsed in his bed, trying hard to to take a small nap, he heard movements from Hermione's side of the room and looked at her. It was unlike her, not to fall asleep, but instead, to be sitting cross-legged on her bed, with a small book in front of her.
"Aren't you going to sleep?" he asked her curiously, annoyed.
She merely gave him a small smile. "No, thank you. I can never get enough sleep, anyway, so I might as well do something useful."
"Reading?" Draco snarled disapprovingly. "What's that you're reading?"
"It's not any of your concern," she replied politely, her voice coming out strangely dead-prone.
At that, Draco's temper flared as he quickly got out of his bed and stalked toward her bed and grabbed it out of her hands. She didn't even protest. There was no look or expression on her face, no reaction of protest. This made him even angrier.
He read the title. Six Steps to Getting the Man of Your Dreams by Cecille Dortans the author of "A Hundred Ways to Get Him to Beg".
"My, my, isn't this interesting?" he sneered, turning to the first page. Hermione blushed slightly, but did not appear to be unphased.
"First step: Get to know him better. Act shy around him and flirt with him a bit, and smile at him. Aww, isn't that sweet?" Draco crooned sarcastically, laughing.
"Give it back, Mal- Draco, we're not in Hogwarts anymore, you know," Hermione said calmly.
"Really? Because I wasn't aware," he said, rolling his eyes. He turned to the next page and read it aloud.
"After you have done that, the second step is to compliment his interests. Playfully touch him in the arm or graze his face if it's optional. Ask things about him, make small talk. Tell him things about you too," he read, his nose scrunching up in disgust. He took a seat next to her, keeping a slight distance, however. He had his hand wrapped around a cup of muggle coffee.
"Can I please have my book back? Or do you want to get the man of YOUR dreams, Draco?" she said, laughing, playfully punching him in the arm.
He glared at her and went back to the book. "Third step: Make the first move...'accidently' touch him somewhere forbidden and see if he has a reaction. Remember to appoligize about this accident afterwards."
"Maybe the boy of your dreams is Voldemort, eh?" Hermione said, giggling. He shot her another glare.
"I don't go that way," he said, his cheeks tinging red.
"You don't? Why are you blushing, Draco? Is it because I am telling the truth, huh?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.
"Stop it!" he roared. "You're giving me a headache."
"Then give me back my damn book!" she replied, trying to grab her book. Draco lost his balance and his hands let go off the coffee, and it spilled over the lower portion of his robes.
"Look what you did, you mudblood!" he yelled, the cup splattering on the floor.
"Sorry," she said, nonchantly. "There, there, calm down, geez, it's a fucking coffee mug, Dra- Malfoy."
As he attempted to clean himself off, his hand gripped tightly over the book.
"I am keeping this," he said. Before she could make another remark, he gave her a death stare.
"No! Okay, fine, lets make a deal. I'll help you clean it off BY HAND, and get you a new coffee mug and then you can keep reading the book, but you have to give it back," she said.
"Fine. But only if you stop making those gay statements," he said.
"Okay," Hermione agreed, although reluctantly. He took his robes off while she got a fresh batch of napkins and a glass of water. She placed them on the floor, and motioned Draco to lower himself.
"God, you have stains all over your pants," she stated, dipping one of the napkins into water and placing them on the thick material of his black pants.
Her napkin wandered around, rinsing the creases of stains in his pants, and her hand 'accidently' grazed against something and she backed off.
"Sorry," she whispered, blushing before she put her materials away and sat on the bed beside him again.
"Fourth step: Make him want you. This is also the first step in seduction. Smear your lips with muggle lip gloss to make them look shiny and irresistable. Lean close toward him every so often," Draco said. He made a disgusted face.
"This is supposed to work?" he said, wondering aloud.
"I guess so," Hermione said, shrugging. "I am just reading it for the hell of it."
"Anyways - fifth step: Kiss him. If he doesn't kiss you first, you should be able to make the first move. It would also lead the male to feel offtrack and more turned on. Choose a silent, intense moment where you know it's alright," he read off.
"Ugh - this would never work, this is a piece of trash," he said finally, not caring to read the sixth, final step.
"You sure about that?" Hermione asked, looking at him suspiciously.
He gulped. "Of course, I am."
She gave him a small, quivering smile, and there was an awkward silence.
"Why shouldn't I be sure?" he asked uncertainly.
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. It's just," she leaned closer and grazed her fingers against his chin. "If I kissed you, I bet you'd be at least a little turned on."
"Impossible," he whispered, his voice coming out shaky.
She gave him another knowing smile, and leaned in further. "You sure?"
"Yeah - well, not - not really..."
She leaned in forward, so that their lips were inches apart. Her warm breath caressed his lips, and she closed her eyes, their lips connecting at last.
His prying eyes swept away off her sleeping figure at once. He rubbed his eyes, immensely disturbed that he would ever watch her sleep. She was just a mere servant, a slave, after all. She wasn't a real death eater, she didn't kill for the hell of it. No, she was a pure Gryffindor, with intent morals. Wasn't she? He could've sworn the night that she killed one of the Weasleys that she was not any more innocent than he was.
She was different than at Hogwarts, with more bushy-hair and a hobby to keep talking. Now, she was much more silent, black circles under her eyes, her hair unbrushed and unwavering, and her brown, wide eyes pale. She seemed as if she would fall asleep in their usual meetings, and the only time she made a movement was to get up in the morning to brush her teeth tiredly and shower without concern. He was frustrated, he knew. He wanted to see Hermione Granger at her rough side, the same one that insisted she kill Ronald Weasley.
Of course, that would be to put the Imperius spell on her once more, and he cared not to do that, because that would be more tiring for her. He wanted her to do it by herself, not under control of a stronger force of evil.
"Draco?" a soft voice whispered. He looked up from his thoughts and his heart leaped, racing. It was Hermione, who was blinking, looking toward him in surprise.
"Yes. I - I wanted to make sure you got up in time for the meeting," he barked unintentionally.
"It's four o'clock in the morning," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, well, you always get up late," he lied.
"No I don't..." her voice sounded softer, even...nicer? Usually she would not speak to him at all.
"Quit your yapping, Granger, and get up and get dressed. I want to get there early," Draco finally snapped, looking at her expectantly.
"I don't want to. Wake me up later," groaned Hermione, turning over. Draco clenched his fists. Who was she to disobey him?
"No!" he said, tugging at her arm. "You will do as I say," he pulled his wand from his robes and pointed it at her with promise; "Or else."
To his shock, Hermione gave a small laugh. It startled him deeply. She NEVER laughed. In fact, she never showed any emotion at all. To him, at least.
"You don't scare me, Draco. Bossy...I like it," she hissed. Draco gaped in confusion as she shut her eyes and slept, facedown on her pillow.
Bossy? She liked it? What kind of a tone had she said that? Was it possible that she was flirting with him? She must've been sleepy, that's all, he thought to himself reassuringly. No way would Hermione Granger ever flirt with the man that caused her whole life to crumble. No, it was just Granger sleepy-eyed and when we get to the meeting, it would all be forgotten.
-*- He was right. Partly, anyway. At promptly six o'clock, Hermione went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, showered cleanly and got dressed in thick robes with a hood on, and Draco did the same, and they spoke nothing to each other except small phrases such as 'Hurry the hell up' or 'Did you steal my toothbrush again?' and after exactly thirty minutes, they arrived from Aparation to the meeting.
However, though Hermione was completely oblivious about what had happened and went on to her usual ritual of frowning and looking content throughout the whole meeting, which consisted of Death Eaters suggesting where they should attack next. After about an hour of the meeting, Hermione and Draco apparated home to get rest or eat, because in about three hours, they would be attacking another side of London soon.
While Draco collapsed in his bed, trying hard to to take a small nap, he heard movements from Hermione's side of the room and looked at her. It was unlike her, not to fall asleep, but instead, to be sitting cross-legged on her bed, with a small book in front of her.
"Aren't you going to sleep?" he asked her curiously, annoyed.
She merely gave him a small smile. "No, thank you. I can never get enough sleep, anyway, so I might as well do something useful."
"Reading?" Draco snarled disapprovingly. "What's that you're reading?"
"It's not any of your concern," she replied politely, her voice coming out strangely dead-prone.
At that, Draco's temper flared as he quickly got out of his bed and stalked toward her bed and grabbed it out of her hands. She didn't even protest. There was no look or expression on her face, no reaction of protest. This made him even angrier.
He read the title. Six Steps to Getting the Man of Your Dreams by Cecille Dortans the author of "A Hundred Ways to Get Him to Beg".
"My, my, isn't this interesting?" he sneered, turning to the first page. Hermione blushed slightly, but did not appear to be unphased.
"First step: Get to know him better. Act shy around him and flirt with him a bit, and smile at him. Aww, isn't that sweet?" Draco crooned sarcastically, laughing.
"Give it back, Mal- Draco, we're not in Hogwarts anymore, you know," Hermione said calmly.
"Really? Because I wasn't aware," he said, rolling his eyes. He turned to the next page and read it aloud.
"After you have done that, the second step is to compliment his interests. Playfully touch him in the arm or graze his face if it's optional. Ask things about him, make small talk. Tell him things about you too," he read, his nose scrunching up in disgust. He took a seat next to her, keeping a slight distance, however. He had his hand wrapped around a cup of muggle coffee.
"Can I please have my book back? Or do you want to get the man of YOUR dreams, Draco?" she said, laughing, playfully punching him in the arm.
He glared at her and went back to the book. "Third step: Make the first move...'accidently' touch him somewhere forbidden and see if he has a reaction. Remember to appoligize about this accident afterwards."
"Maybe the boy of your dreams is Voldemort, eh?" Hermione said, giggling. He shot her another glare.
"I don't go that way," he said, his cheeks tinging red.
"You don't? Why are you blushing, Draco? Is it because I am telling the truth, huh?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.
"Stop it!" he roared. "You're giving me a headache."
"Then give me back my damn book!" she replied, trying to grab her book. Draco lost his balance and his hands let go off the coffee, and it spilled over the lower portion of his robes.
"Look what you did, you mudblood!" he yelled, the cup splattering on the floor.
"Sorry," she said, nonchantly. "There, there, calm down, geez, it's a fucking coffee mug, Dra- Malfoy."
As he attempted to clean himself off, his hand gripped tightly over the book.
"I am keeping this," he said. Before she could make another remark, he gave her a death stare.
"No! Okay, fine, lets make a deal. I'll help you clean it off BY HAND, and get you a new coffee mug and then you can keep reading the book, but you have to give it back," she said.
"Fine. But only if you stop making those gay statements," he said.
"Okay," Hermione agreed, although reluctantly. He took his robes off while she got a fresh batch of napkins and a glass of water. She placed them on the floor, and motioned Draco to lower himself.
"God, you have stains all over your pants," she stated, dipping one of the napkins into water and placing them on the thick material of his black pants.
Her napkin wandered around, rinsing the creases of stains in his pants, and her hand 'accidently' grazed against something and she backed off.
"Sorry," she whispered, blushing before she put her materials away and sat on the bed beside him again.
"Fourth step: Make him want you. This is also the first step in seduction. Smear your lips with muggle lip gloss to make them look shiny and irresistable. Lean close toward him every so often," Draco said. He made a disgusted face.
"This is supposed to work?" he said, wondering aloud.
"I guess so," Hermione said, shrugging. "I am just reading it for the hell of it."
"Anyways - fifth step: Kiss him. If he doesn't kiss you first, you should be able to make the first move. It would also lead the male to feel offtrack and more turned on. Choose a silent, intense moment where you know it's alright," he read off.
"Ugh - this would never work, this is a piece of trash," he said finally, not caring to read the sixth, final step.
"You sure about that?" Hermione asked, looking at him suspiciously.
He gulped. "Of course, I am."
She gave him a small, quivering smile, and there was an awkward silence.
"Why shouldn't I be sure?" he asked uncertainly.
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. It's just," she leaned closer and grazed her fingers against his chin. "If I kissed you, I bet you'd be at least a little turned on."
"Impossible," he whispered, his voice coming out shaky.
She gave him another knowing smile, and leaned in further. "You sure?"
"Yeah - well, not - not really..."
She leaned in forward, so that their lips were inches apart. Her warm breath caressed his lips, and she closed her eyes, their lips connecting at last.