*He kisses divinely.* Hermione thought while briefly pulling herself away
for air. But her brain was not right to reason at the moment. She leaned
back into the somewhat startled Draco and kissed him again. Her hands slid
up his arms and over his shoulders, clasping behind his neck. They were
locked together, and there wasn't a chance for him to wrench away from her--
-she wouldn't let him. He had a presence so indescribable, and it melted
away her train of thought. Dear God, it was as if she were possessed.
Draco was shocked at the turn of events. This had all come about too easy. Wasn't Hermione supposed to put up a fight? Wasn't she one of the more stubborn ones? It was too simple, but. . . wait. Hermione had moaned against his mouth. Draco smiled inwardly. Who cared if it wasn't planned? This was headed out just the way he wanted it to. And damn it if he weren't enjoying this.
He slipped his tongue into her mouth, and suddenly Hermione's eyes flew open. She stiffened in his arms and pulled away from him. She managed to look at Draco for a moment, his cool blue-gray eyes staring down at her. They were cold, so cold. Malfoy was still Malfoy, sardonic, scornful, mocking Malfoy. And here she was, doing things she had never done before, kissing him after his taunting, after his violence, after his cruelty. After Ron had just started to become a possibility to her. But she couldn't help herself. Could it be that she took pleasure in it? She shivered and looked away. This was all a very big mistake, and she was angry and ashamed with herself.
"Something wrong, Granger?" Draco said in an undertone, his hands still firmly on her waist.
Her hands slid down from his neck and back to her sides. "Yes." Hermione said firmly. This time she did not stammer. "Please let go of me."
"As you wish." Draco shrugged and let go, taking a small step backward. Hermione watched him cautiously then turned back to the sink to finish scouring the last jar.
He set himself back on the edge of the nearest desk, watching Hermione as she worked. She worked diligently, but still had gentleness to her handling. There was a certain grace to her, but it could have always been chalked up to femininity. She bent down to grab her school robe and put it back on, and he caught a glimpse of long, milk white legs. Yes, that grace could definitely be chalked up to being a woman.
The footsteps heard from down the hall allowed Draco to withdraw from his thoughts. He quickly faced away from Hermione and put on a scowl. Snape walked in just at that very moment.
"I hope I wasn't away for too long." Professor Snape surveyed the room to make sure everything was in one piece. Satisfied that none of his possessions had been riffled through, he turned on the two students. "Are you quite done with those jars yet?" He said icily to Hermione, who quickly placed the last jar down to dry and turned to face him with a soft 'yes sir.' He frowned slightly, then replied. "Well, I suppose you may leave then. That will be your final detention. Let's all hope you have less trouble handling your things in my class, or we'll be seeing you around here more often. Perhaps you could keep Mr. Longbottom company."
Hermione's eyes narrowed, but she kept them staring at the floor. With a quick jerk of his head, Snape signaled her to leave. She took the opportunity, and hastened out of the room.
As quickly as she walked out of the classroom, she ran down the hallway, not stopping until she got to the portrait entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady in her pink dress stared down at her with a mixture of confusion and amusement.
"My word! Don't we look frazzled!" She said haughtily.
"I am not!" Hermione did not have the patience for such musings. She wanted to get inside and go to bed, and try to forget that any of this had happened.
"Oh but you certainly look it, child. I heard from Marguerite Millstone, the rather slow Witch in the Hufflepuff Hall, that you had to serve detention yet again for that boor Snape. Now I know he can be beastly, but it looks as if he's simply run you through! Comes from a no good wizarding family, I'll tell you, and. . ."
Hermione was beyond exasperated. But the Fat Lady was probably right, as she saw her reflection in a coat of arms near by. She did look like she had been through something stressful. And everyone inside would notice. . .including Ron and Harry. She straightened herself out and in a frustrated fit, nearly screamed, "Onion Soup!"
The Fat Lady looked back incredulously. "Very well then. No need to shout!" The portrait swung open and the light from the common room poured out into the dark hall. Hermione tentatively walked inside.
"Hey 'Mione! How'd the detention go?" Harry turned around in one of the overstuffed chairs and called to her. Ron sat across from him, sheepishly looking at her. It was obvious that she was the topic of their conversation before she walked in.
She walked over trying to appear nonchalant. "Oh, fine, I suppose. He had me washing jars again. But it went well. Can't complain. Nope, not at all."
Both her friends stared at her with bewilderment. Ron spoke up first. "Are you sure everything is all right?"
"Of course! What would make you think otherwise?"
"You just seem to be a little. . .err. . .jarred, that's all." Ron scratched his head behind his ear.
Harry looked dead on at her, trying to meet her averting eyes. "You know, if something bad happened, if Snape went around torturing you, you could always tell us. We're your friends. That's what we're here for."
Hermione stared at a crack in the stone floor. "Really, everything is fine." She stated half-heartedly. "I've just had a long day. I'm tired. I want to go to bed."
She walked away from them before they had the chance to object. Harry was about to get up and go after her, but Colin Creevey had, for the 17th time that day, jumped in front of him and snapped another picture. The flash bulb was so bright that it blinded Ron and Harry, along with half the common room. When their eyes finally readjusted, they weren't sure exactly where Hermione had gone. They did, however, see Colin being chased around by Seamus, who was screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Enough with the bloody blinding pictures, you son of a bitch bastard! Gimme that goddamn camera!"
Hermione, meanwhile, had run up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Changing quickly, she jumped into her four-poster and drew the crimson curtains shut. Her mind was swimming in unanswered questions. *What the hell happened?* She thought to herself. Malfoy seduced her and she allowed it. How could she allow it? And beyond that, she was acting as well! And Ron, just when he was beginning to show real interest! Just when she actually stood a chance! And here she'd gone and done the unthinkable with his greatest enemy. *Dear Lord, if he finds out, he'll be furious!* Hermione cringed. But then Draco's face flashed before her eyes. *Then again, it wasn't that unthinkable. . .I could always have done worse. Yes, much worse.* Hermione thought of the kiss, and for a moment lost herself in dreaming of the 'worse' things she and Draco could have done. At that moment, she remembered Ron's face, the stares he had given her, the laughs and reassurances and of course that feeling in the pit of her stomach. With a groan, Hermione turned and stuffed her face in her pillow.
She had certainly screwed things up this time.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Hermione was busy scratching away with her quill in Advanced Potions. Snape was once again rambling irritably on the importance of holly leaves in protection potions. Her eyes were dropping slightly, after tossing and turning herself through a very restless night. There was this disgusted feeling in her stomach, even though she tried to take her mind off of it by working.
It wasn't working.
Harry and Ron were beginning to give her some odd glances though. *At least they're not asking any questions.* Hermione thought gratefully. That would be the very last thing she needed. God, she just regretted the whole thing. Oh why did he have to do that!?
And there he was. Draco Malfoy, surrounded by his henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle, and his rather rotund Pansy Parkinson. How could he be interested in a girl like her? She was huge! Her massively round face was greasy and splotched. And there he was, tall, well built, and, dare she think it, rather handsome. She remembered the feel of his wide shoulders under her hands, the strength in his arms, the feel of his lips. He was a rather remarkable creature, even with his detestable personality. His hair was perfectly set, his robes the neatest pressed, his wand the highest quality made. Hermione saw the way he slouched forward on his stool, legs parted far and elbows resting on his knees. He embodied masculinity. Hermione was in a daze.
At that moment, Draco turned his head to her. His cool blue-gray eyes found hers, and he smirked, letting those eyes wander her carriage. Hermione's heart jumped, and she blushed and looked away, turning her eyes instead to Ron, who was seated next to her. His brow was knotted in concentration, tongue slightly visible between his lips as he sloppily took notes on whatever it was that Snape was lecturing over. His nails were slightly chewed. His flaming red hair was mussed up. His robes were tattered, and his wand was chipped and dull. He just wasn't the same as. . .
The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Hermione looked from her classmates' books to her own. She had spent the last half of class daydreaming and now she was missing all those notes. Ehh, she could always get them from Harry. . .she never could read Ron's writing anyway.
Gathering up her things and throwing them into her satchel, she quickly walked, eyes focus on the floor, toward the door. But she hit something, hard, and stumbled back. Looking up, she saw the eyes of Malfoy focusing in on hers.
"You should look where you're going, Granger. But then again, you've looked quite a lot today." Draco smirked, and Hermione, humiliated and hurried, pursed her lips and focused on a bit of dirt on one of the tables. "Aww, don't be angry, Granger, I'm actually quite flattered. Here-consider it a peace offering." Draco handed her a notebook. "You're probably missing quite a few notes after all that ogling."
Hermione stared suspiciously at Draco, trying to find a clue of a catch in this deal. Not finding any hint of guilt, she reached for the book and muttered, "Thank you." She lowered her eyes to the floor again.
"Draco Darling, we're going to be late to Arithmancy!" Pansy Parkinson bounded up the aisle to Draco, wrapping herself around his arm and smiling at him. She looked over to Hermione, and the smile quickly disappeared. "Oh look who it is. Frizz-ball." Pansy sneered. "What do you want, Granger? Looking for a sword fight with my Draco? He was certainly fantastic kicking the shit out of Potty, wasn't he? He'll do the same again at the Quidditch match this Friday. Potter's really not much on a broom. . .then again, neither is your precious Weasel."
Hate glimmered in Hermione's eyes. "Well if you think you could do a better job, Pansy, by all means, show us how. But I some how think the fat would weigh you down."
Pansy looked infuriated, but Hermione couldn't care less. She shoved past the both of them and hurried down the hall.
*Well, she's certainly got spunk, doesn't she?* Draco thought as he watched her back leaving the room. She was attractive. . .and smart. . .and impassioned. . .and. . .Draco shook his head and cleared his thoughts. She was a mudblood, first and foremost, and the target in his plan. Draco was going to ruin the people who ruined his family. He could not be distracted by stupid temporary emotions. The only reason he was thinking that way, he rationalized, was because he needed a little physical attention. After all, if had been four days since he bagged that raven-haired third year. He smiled to himself. *Ah, gymnasts. . .*
Pansy tugged at Draco's sleeve and smiled up at him. *Well, I suppose I can't be running after girls anymore. Not with this pug bitch hounding me.* Draco quickly smiled back at her, halfheartedly, and followed her out the hallway to their next class. His only luck at satisfaction was Hermione. . .if she followed through.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
"So what are you up to, Herm? More extra credit reports?" Harry laughed as he saw his friend settle down at one of the empty tables and start reaching for her books.
Ron chuckled too. "Don't you ever stop working? Queen to D-5." The little statue quickly took out Harry's knights. Another bout of Wizards' Chess, just as violent as the one before.
"I just have to copy the Potions notes." Hermione muttered under her breath.
Harry's eyes grew wide. "You mean you weren't paying attention in class? Ron, I think we finally rubbed off on her!"
Seamus walked by and overheard. "Hermione? Hermione Granger was a poor student today? Somebody write this down! It's a first!"
"You can borrow my notes if you'd like, Hermione." Neville said from across the room. The lion-faced clock in the corner roared its chimes; it was 9 o'clock. Neville jumped in his seat at the sound.
"Neville, it's alright." Ron blushed slightly as he said, "I-if you'd like, Hermione, you can, umm, borrow mine."
She looked appreciatively back at him. "It's alright, Ron. I've already gotten someone's notes to copy."
Ron looked slighted. "Oh. Who?"
Hermione guiltily focused her attentions on her inkbottle. "No one."
"Her-- "
"I said it was no one, okay?" She knew they'd ask. They always asked questions. She just didn't feel like answering them, or even putting up with them right now.
"But if-- " Harry chimed in.
"Look, if I can't work with even the slightest amount of privacy here, then I'm going to leave." Hermione said in frustration.
"Well, okay," Harry relented. "I just thought that, if it's 'no one' then you'd-- "
"Oh forget this!" Hermione quickly gathered her things, and with a remorseful feeling in her stomach, headed once again to the girls' dormitories. She could hear the boys muttering behind her.
"Gees, who lit the fuse on her tampon?"
With a slamming of the door after the stair climb, Hermione threw herself onto her bed. It was getting late, 9:15 now, and she was still sleepy from the night before. *Best to get this over with.* She thought. Settling herself in for work, she opened the borrowed notebook, flipping through to the last written pages for the Potions notes. There, on the last page, in deeply engraved, aristocratic handwriting, was a message. . .
Meet me tonight, 9:30 First floor east corridor Second Coat of Armour I'll be waiting for you.
~Draco
Hermione stared wide-eyed at the page. She quickly shut the book and ran for the door.
Draco was shocked at the turn of events. This had all come about too easy. Wasn't Hermione supposed to put up a fight? Wasn't she one of the more stubborn ones? It was too simple, but. . . wait. Hermione had moaned against his mouth. Draco smiled inwardly. Who cared if it wasn't planned? This was headed out just the way he wanted it to. And damn it if he weren't enjoying this.
He slipped his tongue into her mouth, and suddenly Hermione's eyes flew open. She stiffened in his arms and pulled away from him. She managed to look at Draco for a moment, his cool blue-gray eyes staring down at her. They were cold, so cold. Malfoy was still Malfoy, sardonic, scornful, mocking Malfoy. And here she was, doing things she had never done before, kissing him after his taunting, after his violence, after his cruelty. After Ron had just started to become a possibility to her. But she couldn't help herself. Could it be that she took pleasure in it? She shivered and looked away. This was all a very big mistake, and she was angry and ashamed with herself.
"Something wrong, Granger?" Draco said in an undertone, his hands still firmly on her waist.
Her hands slid down from his neck and back to her sides. "Yes." Hermione said firmly. This time she did not stammer. "Please let go of me."
"As you wish." Draco shrugged and let go, taking a small step backward. Hermione watched him cautiously then turned back to the sink to finish scouring the last jar.
He set himself back on the edge of the nearest desk, watching Hermione as she worked. She worked diligently, but still had gentleness to her handling. There was a certain grace to her, but it could have always been chalked up to femininity. She bent down to grab her school robe and put it back on, and he caught a glimpse of long, milk white legs. Yes, that grace could definitely be chalked up to being a woman.
The footsteps heard from down the hall allowed Draco to withdraw from his thoughts. He quickly faced away from Hermione and put on a scowl. Snape walked in just at that very moment.
"I hope I wasn't away for too long." Professor Snape surveyed the room to make sure everything was in one piece. Satisfied that none of his possessions had been riffled through, he turned on the two students. "Are you quite done with those jars yet?" He said icily to Hermione, who quickly placed the last jar down to dry and turned to face him with a soft 'yes sir.' He frowned slightly, then replied. "Well, I suppose you may leave then. That will be your final detention. Let's all hope you have less trouble handling your things in my class, or we'll be seeing you around here more often. Perhaps you could keep Mr. Longbottom company."
Hermione's eyes narrowed, but she kept them staring at the floor. With a quick jerk of his head, Snape signaled her to leave. She took the opportunity, and hastened out of the room.
As quickly as she walked out of the classroom, she ran down the hallway, not stopping until she got to the portrait entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady in her pink dress stared down at her with a mixture of confusion and amusement.
"My word! Don't we look frazzled!" She said haughtily.
"I am not!" Hermione did not have the patience for such musings. She wanted to get inside and go to bed, and try to forget that any of this had happened.
"Oh but you certainly look it, child. I heard from Marguerite Millstone, the rather slow Witch in the Hufflepuff Hall, that you had to serve detention yet again for that boor Snape. Now I know he can be beastly, but it looks as if he's simply run you through! Comes from a no good wizarding family, I'll tell you, and. . ."
Hermione was beyond exasperated. But the Fat Lady was probably right, as she saw her reflection in a coat of arms near by. She did look like she had been through something stressful. And everyone inside would notice. . .including Ron and Harry. She straightened herself out and in a frustrated fit, nearly screamed, "Onion Soup!"
The Fat Lady looked back incredulously. "Very well then. No need to shout!" The portrait swung open and the light from the common room poured out into the dark hall. Hermione tentatively walked inside.
"Hey 'Mione! How'd the detention go?" Harry turned around in one of the overstuffed chairs and called to her. Ron sat across from him, sheepishly looking at her. It was obvious that she was the topic of their conversation before she walked in.
She walked over trying to appear nonchalant. "Oh, fine, I suppose. He had me washing jars again. But it went well. Can't complain. Nope, not at all."
Both her friends stared at her with bewilderment. Ron spoke up first. "Are you sure everything is all right?"
"Of course! What would make you think otherwise?"
"You just seem to be a little. . .err. . .jarred, that's all." Ron scratched his head behind his ear.
Harry looked dead on at her, trying to meet her averting eyes. "You know, if something bad happened, if Snape went around torturing you, you could always tell us. We're your friends. That's what we're here for."
Hermione stared at a crack in the stone floor. "Really, everything is fine." She stated half-heartedly. "I've just had a long day. I'm tired. I want to go to bed."
She walked away from them before they had the chance to object. Harry was about to get up and go after her, but Colin Creevey had, for the 17th time that day, jumped in front of him and snapped another picture. The flash bulb was so bright that it blinded Ron and Harry, along with half the common room. When their eyes finally readjusted, they weren't sure exactly where Hermione had gone. They did, however, see Colin being chased around by Seamus, who was screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Enough with the bloody blinding pictures, you son of a bitch bastard! Gimme that goddamn camera!"
Hermione, meanwhile, had run up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Changing quickly, she jumped into her four-poster and drew the crimson curtains shut. Her mind was swimming in unanswered questions. *What the hell happened?* She thought to herself. Malfoy seduced her and she allowed it. How could she allow it? And beyond that, she was acting as well! And Ron, just when he was beginning to show real interest! Just when she actually stood a chance! And here she'd gone and done the unthinkable with his greatest enemy. *Dear Lord, if he finds out, he'll be furious!* Hermione cringed. But then Draco's face flashed before her eyes. *Then again, it wasn't that unthinkable. . .I could always have done worse. Yes, much worse.* Hermione thought of the kiss, and for a moment lost herself in dreaming of the 'worse' things she and Draco could have done. At that moment, she remembered Ron's face, the stares he had given her, the laughs and reassurances and of course that feeling in the pit of her stomach. With a groan, Hermione turned and stuffed her face in her pillow.
She had certainly screwed things up this time.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Hermione was busy scratching away with her quill in Advanced Potions. Snape was once again rambling irritably on the importance of holly leaves in protection potions. Her eyes were dropping slightly, after tossing and turning herself through a very restless night. There was this disgusted feeling in her stomach, even though she tried to take her mind off of it by working.
It wasn't working.
Harry and Ron were beginning to give her some odd glances though. *At least they're not asking any questions.* Hermione thought gratefully. That would be the very last thing she needed. God, she just regretted the whole thing. Oh why did he have to do that!?
And there he was. Draco Malfoy, surrounded by his henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle, and his rather rotund Pansy Parkinson. How could he be interested in a girl like her? She was huge! Her massively round face was greasy and splotched. And there he was, tall, well built, and, dare she think it, rather handsome. She remembered the feel of his wide shoulders under her hands, the strength in his arms, the feel of his lips. He was a rather remarkable creature, even with his detestable personality. His hair was perfectly set, his robes the neatest pressed, his wand the highest quality made. Hermione saw the way he slouched forward on his stool, legs parted far and elbows resting on his knees. He embodied masculinity. Hermione was in a daze.
At that moment, Draco turned his head to her. His cool blue-gray eyes found hers, and he smirked, letting those eyes wander her carriage. Hermione's heart jumped, and she blushed and looked away, turning her eyes instead to Ron, who was seated next to her. His brow was knotted in concentration, tongue slightly visible between his lips as he sloppily took notes on whatever it was that Snape was lecturing over. His nails were slightly chewed. His flaming red hair was mussed up. His robes were tattered, and his wand was chipped and dull. He just wasn't the same as. . .
The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Hermione looked from her classmates' books to her own. She had spent the last half of class daydreaming and now she was missing all those notes. Ehh, she could always get them from Harry. . .she never could read Ron's writing anyway.
Gathering up her things and throwing them into her satchel, she quickly walked, eyes focus on the floor, toward the door. But she hit something, hard, and stumbled back. Looking up, she saw the eyes of Malfoy focusing in on hers.
"You should look where you're going, Granger. But then again, you've looked quite a lot today." Draco smirked, and Hermione, humiliated and hurried, pursed her lips and focused on a bit of dirt on one of the tables. "Aww, don't be angry, Granger, I'm actually quite flattered. Here-consider it a peace offering." Draco handed her a notebook. "You're probably missing quite a few notes after all that ogling."
Hermione stared suspiciously at Draco, trying to find a clue of a catch in this deal. Not finding any hint of guilt, she reached for the book and muttered, "Thank you." She lowered her eyes to the floor again.
"Draco Darling, we're going to be late to Arithmancy!" Pansy Parkinson bounded up the aisle to Draco, wrapping herself around his arm and smiling at him. She looked over to Hermione, and the smile quickly disappeared. "Oh look who it is. Frizz-ball." Pansy sneered. "What do you want, Granger? Looking for a sword fight with my Draco? He was certainly fantastic kicking the shit out of Potty, wasn't he? He'll do the same again at the Quidditch match this Friday. Potter's really not much on a broom. . .then again, neither is your precious Weasel."
Hate glimmered in Hermione's eyes. "Well if you think you could do a better job, Pansy, by all means, show us how. But I some how think the fat would weigh you down."
Pansy looked infuriated, but Hermione couldn't care less. She shoved past the both of them and hurried down the hall.
*Well, she's certainly got spunk, doesn't she?* Draco thought as he watched her back leaving the room. She was attractive. . .and smart. . .and impassioned. . .and. . .Draco shook his head and cleared his thoughts. She was a mudblood, first and foremost, and the target in his plan. Draco was going to ruin the people who ruined his family. He could not be distracted by stupid temporary emotions. The only reason he was thinking that way, he rationalized, was because he needed a little physical attention. After all, if had been four days since he bagged that raven-haired third year. He smiled to himself. *Ah, gymnasts. . .*
Pansy tugged at Draco's sleeve and smiled up at him. *Well, I suppose I can't be running after girls anymore. Not with this pug bitch hounding me.* Draco quickly smiled back at her, halfheartedly, and followed her out the hallway to their next class. His only luck at satisfaction was Hermione. . .if she followed through.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
"So what are you up to, Herm? More extra credit reports?" Harry laughed as he saw his friend settle down at one of the empty tables and start reaching for her books.
Ron chuckled too. "Don't you ever stop working? Queen to D-5." The little statue quickly took out Harry's knights. Another bout of Wizards' Chess, just as violent as the one before.
"I just have to copy the Potions notes." Hermione muttered under her breath.
Harry's eyes grew wide. "You mean you weren't paying attention in class? Ron, I think we finally rubbed off on her!"
Seamus walked by and overheard. "Hermione? Hermione Granger was a poor student today? Somebody write this down! It's a first!"
"You can borrow my notes if you'd like, Hermione." Neville said from across the room. The lion-faced clock in the corner roared its chimes; it was 9 o'clock. Neville jumped in his seat at the sound.
"Neville, it's alright." Ron blushed slightly as he said, "I-if you'd like, Hermione, you can, umm, borrow mine."
She looked appreciatively back at him. "It's alright, Ron. I've already gotten someone's notes to copy."
Ron looked slighted. "Oh. Who?"
Hermione guiltily focused her attentions on her inkbottle. "No one."
"Her-- "
"I said it was no one, okay?" She knew they'd ask. They always asked questions. She just didn't feel like answering them, or even putting up with them right now.
"But if-- " Harry chimed in.
"Look, if I can't work with even the slightest amount of privacy here, then I'm going to leave." Hermione said in frustration.
"Well, okay," Harry relented. "I just thought that, if it's 'no one' then you'd-- "
"Oh forget this!" Hermione quickly gathered her things, and with a remorseful feeling in her stomach, headed once again to the girls' dormitories. She could hear the boys muttering behind her.
"Gees, who lit the fuse on her tampon?"
With a slamming of the door after the stair climb, Hermione threw herself onto her bed. It was getting late, 9:15 now, and she was still sleepy from the night before. *Best to get this over with.* She thought. Settling herself in for work, she opened the borrowed notebook, flipping through to the last written pages for the Potions notes. There, on the last page, in deeply engraved, aristocratic handwriting, was a message. . .
Meet me tonight, 9:30 First floor east corridor Second Coat of Armour I'll be waiting for you.
~Draco
Hermione stared wide-eyed at the page. She quickly shut the book and ran for the door.