Warning: The non-erotic sex scene I promised earlier and some more gratuitous mentions of ankles.
A Response to the Question; Why is this a Draco/Hermione fic: Many thanks to all of you who have reviewed. In response to those who (with some prompting) asked, why have I classified this fic a Draco/Hermione fic when Draco does not like girls, I can't respond fully without giving away some of the plot. However, if you are familiar with the brilliant post war Japanese writer Mishima Yukio, or his work Confessions of a Mask I am sure you will have some inkling of what this fic is intending. Common in all my works is the need for a greater issue or investigation deeper into human nature, though it might sound pretentious is horribly rooted in my character. The fic however will I am sure answer this question better and more entertainingly than I, so please read and enjoy.
***
The door swung open, slowly revealing the room, exposing it bit by bit. Feeble light dimly illuminated the trophy cases tinting everything a fine gray blue.
White, smooth and lighter then the rest, it caught his eye, lolling in the air, pale blue, an ankle. He stared transfixed with a horror, far greater then what he held for death or dark arts. The door moved to reveal a leg clean and white, beautiful. Then two more, these different, the door opened more allowing his eye to travel further up. He looked along these legs, every moment more alarmed yet unable to look away. He could hear now, his ears finally accepting the sound of rhythmic slapping where the two bodies meshed, then even more slowly up an arch of back, so tantalizing that Draco needed to flee.
Hair, long and bushy, covering the floor spilling out around a face that eye's closed, looked like that of the Mother of God being anointed, by the angle Gabriel. Mouth open she whispered, words incomprehensible to any other, atop her in all his glory was that messenger from God, that blessed angle, his head turned aside nuzzling her, red hair muted by the thin light, but still aglow with something other worldly.
He ran, turning his devil's eyes away unable to bear the sight. Without a care as to who now heard him Draco turned belting down the stairs, fleeing like a diabolical specter before the light, sickened by what he had witnessed, blindly he ran on, not wanting to return, until he arrived at the darkest deepest place, within the castle. Hands shaking, he collapsed against the wall sinking in a heap on the bare chilling stone, comforted by their cold.
God save him, the ankle flickered there in his mind, wanting to show him more, as if beckoning him to look up and relive the scene again. Opening his eyes wide, filling them with the darkness, he retched. Dry, his stomach had nothing; he could not purge himself. Shaking he settled back encircling himself with his own enfeebled arms. Trying as best he could not to think of anything he drifted. To sleep he at last escaped, happy in the knowledge that whatever he dreamed he would not recall it when he awoke.
***
Draco was roused by a sharp pain in his neck and a sense of cold creeping into him from where his back pressed against the wall. His neck it seemed had become cramped in the cold, and now spasmed painfully when he attempted to turn his head. Stretching blearily he took out his wand, illuminating it and glancing at his watch. Nine, it was nine o'clock. Everyone would be up by now which meant he would have to walk though the Slytherin common room in his nightclothes he cursed. Making his way back though the labyrinthine dungeon toward Slytherin house, he was determined to keep his mind clear of everything until after he had taken a shower and eaten breakfast.
In no long time he was in front of the secret entrance. Stealing himself, summoning up the worst glare he could he entered. There were a few people in the room, mostly younger grades who had yet to discover that sitting in the common room what a sign of lameness, and only people who had nothing to do would stoop to such a level. Mingling was to be done covertly, hadn't they figured that out already? He guessed not. Thought he did receive one or two odd looks from more senior students on their way out. Thankfully, no one questioned him as he strode towards the sixth year dorm. Uncomfortable, he shut the door behind him as quickly as possible only to be confronted by Crabbe and Goyle.
"Malfoy where were you all night, Goyle got hungry in the middle of the night and when he got out of bed to get something to eat he couldn't see you anywhere, he was worried." Crabbe said sounding worried.
His friend thumped him "He was worried too." he added, quickly.
"Malfoy you didn't eat last night, we thought you had fallen out of bed and hadn't been able to find the kitchen in time and starved." Goyle said. Draco wondered if the lug really believed it or was just trying to be funny. No one could be that dumb could they? The two of them wouldn't have been able to miss a meal, even for the rebirth of the Dark Lord.
"I'm fine," he said curtly before pushing past them to grab a towel that lay folded on his dresser, and headed to the shower.
With the curtains drawn and water flowing in super heated rivulets over him, dispelling the chill of the night, he had time to think over the events he had witnessed. So he had seen Wesley and the Mudblood… going at it, that was all. Why had he had such a violent reaction, because he was gay? because it was shocking? Even now thinking about it was sending shivers up his back. No, it wasn't any of those things, he reflected. It was simply because it was a sick twisted act to see two of his worst enemies having sex, and enjoying it. Merlin, the though made him want to retch, it was sick and indecent, they were just children. That ankle again entered his mind, beckoning to him. He found himself gagging over the drain. He had to eat; the acid of his stomach felt like poison.
Getting out he toweled himself dry as fast as he could. Walking back into the dorm wrapped in the huge towel he found that clothes had already been laid out for him: a pair of slacks, a tee shirt and his favorite robe. He glanced around suspiciously; the house elves didn't usually do such personal tasks. Crabbe and Goyle, he figured, they were worse then two mother hens, and for tough guys they were more queer then he ever acted. He sneered vaguely at the image of them in aprons making muffins together, sick fucks.
Pulling on the clothes he ran out of the dorm, he was already late for breakfast. He ran all the way to the great hall, in some part of his brain he was happy, perhaps when one is hungry and headed towards food one is always happy. He resolved to miss meals more often. This feeling was a pleasant one that he felt all too rarely. Innocent pleasures, they were so much more enjoyable then planned pranks or satanic practices.
The moment he entered the great hall the pleasant feeling vanished. Wonderboy was in plain sight, and if this was not enough to spoil the morning, next to Potter sat… them. How could they just sit there and laugh and talk as if nothing was happening or ever happened. How dare they, it was disgusting. He felt the heat rise in his face, his body freeze, and was almost glad when one of the goons grabbed his arm, pulling Draco heavily into his seat.
Crabbe pushed some toast at him, as Goyle looked at him concernedly between spoonfuls of porridge. Draco could never bring himself to touch the stuff, he had always considered it peasant food and Draco was not a peasant. He did however permit those around him to eat it. He thought that grace enough. It gave him an odd satisfaction to know they ate their plebian gruel without ever realizing what it meant; meanwhile he was feasting on bacon and buttered toast. It was petty he knew, but it always made him feel more optimistic in the mornings.
Draco really wished that the two would stop shooting him worried looks; it was really starting to unnerve him. Was he that rumpled? Was his hair not brushed properly? Finally after glaring back for a full slice of toast he demanded;
"What is it?"
"You're not eating" Goyle said with some trepidation.
"What do you mean? I just had a slice of toast, with butter!" They exchanged looks as if conversing in some secret code understandable to only those of Neanderthalic intelligence.
"It took you ten minutes and you haven't even touched your bacon - or your eggs." This was Crabbe, he sounded scandalized at the mere thought.
"So, merely because I don't gulp my breakfast down like you two under brained over sized degenerates doesn't mean there is anything wrong with me." Draco snapped sounding more irritable then he had intended. The two retreated visibly behind their cups of tea. Draco made a point of keeping his mouth full throughout the rest of the meal, so as to render conversation impossible.
At dinner, thought he had his back to the Gryffindor table, the bursts of raucous laughter from across the room distracted him, and he ended up eating more then he wanted to. They left early. No doubt to arrange yet another plot to save this godforsaken school, and embarrass the Dark Powers further. Draco gritted his teeth. Damn Potter.
The petty revenge that he exacted on the git from time to time in no way compensated for the embarrassments and failures the forced of Darkness had suffered at his hands. After he was sure they had left he got up mirrored instantly by Crabbe and Goyle. He had a stomach ach and suddenly didn't want them around fussing over him. He wanted to go for a walk alone.
Stalking out for the great hall, flanked as he was, he made his was back to the common room were his winter robes and broomstick lay, thinking all the way of how he could rid himself of the unwelcome company. Luckily he was saved from further unkind action by Zabini who demanded a game of Chinese Poker from Goyle, who, despite a shocking lack of ability in all things academic, was a renowned talent at such games. Goyle however declined looking guilty but torn, Merlin he could have been a Hufflepuff for all his clinging loyalty, then looked to Crabbe for counsel.
"Oh just go, the both of you, I can do just fine on my own."
Glaring he shooed them off and was slightly perturbed by the pace at with they retreated. Perhaps he was being a bit too harsh this morning, but how could anyone blame him. What with seeing that thing, he decided that what he needed most was a good long walk.
***
More Reviewing Made Easy
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( ) Again like I said before, this is great! Write more!
( ) That was not erotic at all, I want real sex! Go Draco, God of all things phallic.
( ) This should be rated R.
( ) Don't worry about the rating for now.
( ) I liked the sex scene because (enter comment here)
( ) That was not what I was expecting, (enter comment here)
( ) I really didn't like that much (enter reason here)
( ) Your portrayal of (enter character here) is (excellent/good/fair/appalling) (enter reason or quote here)
( ) Where is this going? (I can't wait to find out/I don't what to know)
( ) Goyle Crabbe, Crabbe Goyle, I can't tell them apart!
( ) I have never read a fic in which Crabbe or Goyle played a noticeable role before.
( ) I want Ed back!
( ) Mishima is really great, I liked his work too, have you read (enter book title here)?
( ) Mishima, who is he?
( ) I bought a new grapefruit, so don't worry.
( ) Yeah, those purple monkeys really rock when it comes to dishwashing!
( ) I am adding you to my (Favorite Stories/Favorite Authors list)
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Revised: April 20, 2004