THE TENDER TRAP
Pairings: Draco/Hermione
Disclaimer: Yes! I own Harry Potter! I am J.K. Rowling! I AM A MEDIA GODDESS…ah, who am I kidding?
***
The week rushed by and somehow Hogwarts found itself on a pleasantly warm early fall Saturday morning.
"Hermione!" an obnoxiously loud voice came, knocking on the door. "Ginny's here to see you, shall I send her in?"
From under her blankets, Hermione discerned the voice as belonging to Lavender Brown. Bleary-eyed, she shifted her head and glanced at her clock—only seven thirty. Typical Ginny, Hermione thought, consciously burying her head under her pillows as Lavender pounded on the door.
"Her-my-o-neeee!"
"Shut up!"
Hermione growled as she tossed the coverlet back and leapt out of the bed. She strode across the wooden floor of her private Head Girl bedroom (a definite perk) and threw open the door to find Lavender, fully dressed and half made-up and Ginny standing with her.
"We thought you'd died in there," Lavender said, tucking her long, wavy locks of blonde hair behind her ears. "You sleep like a giant in winter."
Hermione glared at Lavender's silky hair, hair that she had always envied for its ability to lie flat! Hermione reached up and patted her own head of hair; it was currently in a ponytail, frizzing like mad. Hermione sighed and stifled a yawn.
"Yeah, well," Hermione said.
"Anyway," Ginny said, brandishing an envelope. "Dumbledore sent us patrolling duties for tonight. All the Prefects and the Head Girl and Boy…it's a new institution he's set up," Ginny said, offering Hermione the envelope. Hermione took it, noticing the mischief dancing alight in her red headed friend's blue eyes.
The letter from the Headmaster read:
To Miss Ginny Weasley, Mister Colin Creevey, and Miss Hermione Granger:
Good morning!
I have taken it upon myself to formulate a new plan to keep the school well looked after past curfew. Each pair of Prefects from each House will pair up and patrol their designated area on Fridays and Saturday nights from 10 o'clock P.M. till 1 o'clock A.M. The Head Boy and Girl will also patrol together.
Please meet in the Front Hall at ten tonight.
Albus Dumbledore
"What?!" Hermione shrieked as she finished the letter. "This is madness, how can he expect us to patrol for three hours straight?"
Ginny and Lavender exchanged a Look. Hermione caught it and suddenly felt aware that she was out of the loop.
"What?"
"Did you, er, read the bit about who you'd be patrolling with?" Ginny asked, twisting a strand of her peppery red hair.
Hermione furrowed a brow. "Yeah…it said…" she glanced at the letter and groaned. "The Head Boy! Ah!"
That year, Draco Malfoy had been elected head Boy to Hermione's Head Girl. Fortunately, they hadn't been paired up before this—But Hermione couldn't imagine spending three hours patrolling with Malfoy.
The lowest form of torture, she thought grimly to herself.
Ginny cleared her throat a bit. "Well, Hermione…I was just kind of thinking…about the bet, you know." Hermione could feel the color drain out of her face. In her fury after last weekend's event in the Library, the bet had been driven into the farthest recesses of Hermione's mind.
"Shit."
Ginny sighed and Lavender hid her giggles underneath a perfectly manicured hand. "I know, it's really cruel of me to say this, but Hermione, I really want to win. I couldn't face Ron if I had to spend an entire week in Slytherin House, I really couldn't!" Ginny looked at Hermione with pleading eyes.
Hermione sighed as well. "Look, Gin," she said, playing absently with a loose curl, "I know I said I would and all, but it isn't easy! You try seducing a Slytherin! Especially Malfoy…gods, Ginny, he used to call me 'Mudblood', remember?"
Ginny nodded and Lavender's bright blue eyes looked sympathetic. Then the blonde let out a little gasp of realization.
"Oh…Hermione…I've just had a thought!"
Alert the media!
"You're afraid! You don't know how to seduce a Slytherin!"
Hermione propped a cynical eyebrow. "And you do?"
Lavender rolled her blue eyes. "Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer," she said, flipping the sheet of hair over a nonchalant shoulder. "Besides, everybody thinks Tahmores Bleacou is pretty good looking. And that accent—"
Ginny was looking a little uncomfortable. "Lavender, does all this have a point?" she asked timidly. Lavender looked shocked.
"Well of course it does, Virginia Weasley! We're going to have to teach Hermione Granger how to use her feminine wiles!"
***
Draco stood, leaning against the stone wall of the front hall, looking devilishly nonchalant, if his did say so himself.
Hmm…where is she?
It was 10:03. Granger was late; oh, he'd get her for this! No one made a Malfoy wait, no sir! Malfoys commanded punctuality.
Sighing, Draco leaned his attractive blonde head against the wall and closed his eyes. Well, Malfoys used to, before his dolt of a father had gotten himself tossed into prison at the end of fifth year. Draco had been absolutely livid then, vowing silent revenge on Potter.
His mother had Apparated off to Bermuda with her most current lover, but alas, such was life in the Malfoy household. Luckily, Draco hadn't had to suffer long; Lucius and his Death eater groupies had broken out of Azkaban only four and a half months after being imprisoned. A record for any inmate.
Of course, Draco thought, it would've been better if Lucius had stayed there. Because half a year later, the war was over and Voldemort had been permanently destroyed. Lucius and nearly every other Voldemort-supporting minion of evil had been rounded up and captured. Lucius was given the "treat" of a public execution, like some common criminal. His soulless body had taken permanent residence in the basements of Azkaban.
Unfortunately for Narcissa Malfoy, no one quite forgot her involvement in Voldemort's outer circles; namely the Death Eater Wives of England. The gorgeous blonde half-veela had been hauled into the Wizengamot and tried for treason. They recalled her apparent fondness for islands and promptly gave her a nice "vacation" to one in the North Sea.
Which had left "poor, orphaned Draco" to his parent's inheritance when he had come of age.
Draco smirked to himself, eyes still closed. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps reached his ear, soft and timid.
"Don't you ever wipe that disgusting smirk off your face, Malfoy?"
Draco's eyes flew open to reveal Hermione Granger standing before him in classic granger stance—hands on hips and a look that told him he was no more than a flobberworm with rabies, in her opinion.
Wait, that's—Granger?! His mind thought frantically as he got a real good look at the girl standing before him.
Rich chestnut curls, deep brown eyes, fair complexion—yep, it was Granger all right. But there was no way that it was Granger! Draco could almost feel his jaw flopping open as he scanned her form. Once again, Hermione had decided to scrap the normal school uniform in favor of something more liberating—in this case, a pair of Muggle blue jeans and a white top, which Draco noticed (appreciatively) was a low V-neck and showed off a respectable amount of cleavage.
Hermione noticed Draco's stares and rolled her eyes. "Close your mouth, Malfoy, we are not a codfish!" she snapped. Draco felt his face grown warm and immediately he snapped his mouth shut.
"Where've you been?" he asked, in a voice that sounded strangely strained. Draco cleared his throat and assumed Prick Mode. "You're nearly ten minutes late, you know, Granger, and I do not like being kept waiting."
Hermione took a deep breath and counted to ten. "Well, I'm sorry, Your Highness," she hissed. "Could you spare some mercy on a lowly peasant?"
Draco stared at her. Where had this sudden side of Hermione come from? Draco had never noticed so much spirit in her before. Shaking those disturbing thoughts out, he motioned to the hallway. "This is where we're patrolling tonight. Dungeon level too."
Hermione nodded, grinning inwardly to herself. She could tell she was already making Malfoy squirm—a pleasantry he usually reserved for her. And she was going to enjoy ever minute of it.
Because after that morning's discussion, Hermione had once again put her faith in Ginny and Lavender, although not before making them swear on a cauldron of Veriteserum that she wouldn't end up looking like a trollop again. Lavender had snorted huffily but had promised.
Truth be told, Hermione hadn't been disappointed with the end results. Lavender knew a great number of beauty-related spells and had managed to tame Hermione's bed head down in moments. The curls had decided to play along with Lavender's game and submersed themselves into lying nicely along her back. Ginny had charmed her eyelashes into "batting length," and Lavender had also found the charming white top for her to borrow for the evening.
But the pair's most useful piece of advice was: "Just be yourself, Hermione. But spice it up a little—remember all Lavender's taught you about being a tease. Add a little sauciness to your act."
Hermione grinned to herself and then realized Draco was walking down the corridor toward the dungeons. She mentally cursed her inattention and sprinted after him, hair flying like mad.
***
Draco smirked as he heard Hermione's footsteps scampering up behind him. "Glad you've decided to join me, Granger," he said nonchalantly. She puffed up beside him, holding a stitch in her aide and throwing him a look of utter contempt.
"You're a little shit, Malfoy, do you know that?" Hermione hissed, straightening herself and readjusting her Head Girl badge of her belt loop.
Draco pressed a hand to his heart theatrically. "It's so nice to know how loved I am," Draco deadpanned. "And you, has anyone told you what a horrid little bitch you can be from time to time?"
Hermione surprised even herself and flipped him the bird.
"Oh, obscene finger gestures from such a pristine girl!" Draco spat, rolling his icy blue eyes. He brushed a few loose strand of platinum colored locks out of his eyes before walking on. Hermione suppressed a growl of rage as she stomped after him.
"I'll have you know, Ferret, that I am nowhere near pristine!" Hermione hissed. She reached into the pocket of her sweater, which she had over her shoulders, to check that her wand was still there. It was, and Hermione took reassurance in being able to hex the pants off Malfoy.
Not, of course, that she wanted to see him with his pants off, it was merely an expression…
Oh, bugger, she thought, feeling the pink creep up her cheeks. Hermione, like the rest of the unfortunate female population of the castle, could not deny that Draco Malfoy had good looks. Some said it was the hair, and others the body, that did it for them, but for Hermione it had always been the eyes that intrigued her. She'd never seen eyes so stunningly blue. Pity that they were always shrouded in malice.
Draco, meanwhile, noticed the blushing fit his counterpart seemed to be having. He glanced back at her and Hermione immediately averted her eyes. Draco smirked. Perhaps he had his work cut out for him here. Maybe it would be a lot easier to get Granger under his spell than he thought. Really, I underestimate myself too much.
"So," Hermione broke the uneasy silence. "What exactly are we supposed to be looking for?"
"Students out-of-bounds, I think," Draco responded, checking behind a statue of a snake. His eyes met hers and he grinned. "But I really think we're supposed to be keeping an eye out for secret midnight trysts, if you know what I mean." He cocked an eyebrow for emphasis.
Hermione blushed again; she knew exactly what he meant.
Draco mentally laughed. He'd never seen a girl blush so much. He would have fun embarrassing this chick that was for sure. He decided to test her limits.
"So, Granger…Weasel and Boy Wonder disappointed you couldn't meet tonight? Engage in a little ménage a trois?" He punctuated this offending statement with another leer in the brunette's direction. Her brown eyes grew wide, before her mouth settled into a defensive smirk.
Hermione crossed her arms. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she said, winking. She walked on, leaving Malfoy standing there once again with his jaw on the floor. Hermione laughed out loud.
***
Two hours later, Draco and Hermione both felt dead on their feet. Hermione was yawning tiredly and Draco's lids were heavy.
"I got to stop," Hermione said thickly as they walked past the statue of the snake for the eighth time that night. "We've been walking for two hours and I, for one, do not think anyone in their right mind would propose a 'midnight tryst' in the dungeons."
Draco chuckled. "Oh, I don't know, Granger, some people are really into that whole whips and chains thing."
Hermione shot him a thoroughly disgusted look as she slid down onto the floor against the snake. "Is that all guys ever think about?" she asked earnestly.
Draco gave an award-winning smile. "You got it!" he said brightly, tossing a wink to the brunette. Hermione scowled at him. He ran a hand through his hair, giving himself a somewhat rakish look, Hermione thought. Draco sat down on the wall across from her and stared. Hermione gave him a quizzical look before she looked down. Immediately she threw the sweater over her front—the deep V on her top was a bit precarious for the position she was sitting in.
Draco continued to stare, however. At her face, that is. He wanted to know Hermione's every move so when the time came to sweep her off her feet, he would be ready. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," right?
There was no denying that Hermione was an attractive female, by his standards (which were set pretty high, mind you.) She wasn't a classic beauty, nor was she a conventional or modern beauty. Actually, in this light, Draco could liken her to the pictures of the Greek maidens he used to see in his childhood mythology books.
Draco didn't know how long he sat there watching Hermione, but he must have dozed off because he awoke to the faint beeping of Hermione's watch. It read 1:00 A.M. Finally—done that job, Draco thought as he stood. For a moment, he thought about leaving Hermione there to sleep, but decided to wake her.
"Granger…hey Granger, wake up!" He nudged her with his booted foot. "Girl sleeps like a sack of rocks," he muttered, crouching. Hermione shifted against the Snake and smiled in her sleep.
"It can't be morning already," she murmured in her sleep, shifting so her wavy hair spilled over her shoulder. Draco reluctantly prodded her and noticed that her hair smelled like strawberries.
The death trap! Draco thought. Blaise said the scented hair is always the death trap! Draco cursed himself. "Hermione…" he whispered, not really realizing he had said her first name. The girl sensed his warmth and scooted closer to him, so she was very nearly in his arms. Spectacular, Draco thought sarcastically, noticing that this action stirred thoughts in him that made certain parts of him act…er, rather funny.
"Dammit, Granger, wake up!" Draco hissed, shaking her. Hermione's lids flew open to reveal her slightly disoriented doe-eyes. She blinked and seemed to smile faintly before seeing that she was in his arms.
"Malfoy?"
He rolled his eyes. "Give the girl a cookie!" he muttered, not really moving her out of his arms. She blinked, the black lashes sweeping the pale pink cheek. Draco was starting to feel rather hot around the collar…
Hermione smirked inwardly at Malfoy's discomfort. She decided to play the part of The Vixen and cocked her head, "unconsciously" licking her lips. "What have we here?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. A flash went through his eyes at this statement. "I seem to remember us in a similar position not so long ago."
Draco gulped; she meant the Library, and that whole little lip licking thing was really, really 'stimulating…' Hermione let a hand rest on his arm, smirking.
Draco grinned. All according to plan…not to mention she was a great-looking girl…this Saturday night wasn't so bad after all! Draco leaned in a little. "We do seem to have been here before…" Draco bore his eyes into hers.
Hermione coyly batted her lashes and looked straight at his lips before looking into the oceanic blue eyes. She fluttered the eyelids before leaning in close, so close to Malfoy's lips…Draco let out a little groan as one of her hands immediately began playing with his hair (who knew that blonde mass was so soft?!)
Hermione smirked; they were millimeters apart. "Is this what you want, Malfoy?" she whispered coyly. Draco nodded hungrily and closed his eyes, bringing his hand behind her head for easier access… her breath on his lips was doing wonders…he could almost taste her on his tongue…they were nearly touching…
When Hermione pulled away, ducked out from under his arm, and stood, a triumphant smirk in her face. Draco stumbled, aghast, and shot up. Was this a joke? He advanced toward her with an angry look, but Hermione merely smirked.
"Ah, ah, ah, Malfoy," Hermione sang, wagging a finger, warm eyes aglow. "Haven't I already told you I'm not that kind of girl?"
Draco had the suspicion that for once in his life, he'd been beaten at his own game—the game of Seduction.
He hadn't known the Princess of Gryffindor had it in her!
"What…was…that?" Draco hissed, making a leap for her. She merely pulled away from him, still smirking devilishly.
"Oh, you'll still get a good-night kiss, Malfoy," she said in the same coy tone, pulling on a loosely wound curl. With that Hermione raised a hand to her pink lips and blew a kiss to Draco before turning on her heel and disappearing from his view.
He was left with one thought.
Damn.
***
Authoress's Note: Hello, lemmings!
Well. Sorry this chapter took so bloody long to get up. I rewrote it exactly six different times, and each was worse than the last. Until this—I think it's OKAY!
Due Credit:
"Close your mouth, Malfoy, we are not a codfish!"—almost the exact quote appears in the movie Mary Poppins
"Oh, obscene finger gestures from such a pristine girl!"—this is from The Breakfast Club, said by Bender. If you have not seen this movie, DO SO NOW! It is such a fantastic film. Teen classic.
As you can see, I focus this story mainly around Hermione. I will be doing a lot of Draco in future chapters, one there is more interaction, but what do you guys think of that?
Cos one way you could tell is to REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!
*Just a hint*
*MADame