Chapter 11

It was hard to ignore her. It was even harder to ignore his feelings. He tried to occupy his time flirting with other girls, reading magazines, exercising his body, even studying in advance just to keep his mind off her, but it was no use. When he made out with a girl, he'd imagine she was Hermione. He even almost called a Slytherin girl, "silly little mudblood." When he read, exercise, study, and do whatever he usually did, he couldn't helping wondering what Hermione was doing.

He couldn't get over her.

Sometimes…or most of the time…he'd think about the way her hips swayed when she walked away, the way her body moved against his, how her soft lips tasted, the way her fingers tickled his nape, and even the way her skin and her hair smelled.

He missed her…terribly, but he knew that unless he got over his pride, he could never have her.

He had to have her.

^-^-^-

11:50 PM

Hermione tossed and turned in her bed, trying to get some sleep, but in vain. She couldn't stop thinking about him. She didn't know whether to be happy or damned when he walked away from her. After that, he never bothered her…physically, but continued to mentally and emotionally.

I have to forget about him and get some sleep! She scolded herself. She pulled the covers up to her chin and tried once more to get some sleep. A few minutes later, she dozed off.

The sound of Crookshanks' purring unfortunately woke her. She turned on the lamp on her bedside table and saw that it was 12 AM. She has been asleep for less than ten minutes!

"Argh!!! Thank you very much, you little brat!" She softly muttered to Crookshanks. The cat just grunted a snore.  Before she could strangle the silly animal, a soft knock sounded from her door. "Argh!" She got off the bed and walked to the door, muttering, "It's 12 in the morning for goodness sakes! Can't I get any sleep at all? I'm trying to get some sleep here! Why the hell won't anyone let me sleep? Argh! Argh! I'm just trying to get some sleep. What the hell do you…" Her voice trailed off when she opened the door and saw Draco leaning on the wall. He was wearing a white shirt and a pair of black cotton trousers. "Want," she finished.

"A couple of things, but right now…you," he said casually.

"That's out of the question," she replied, sounding as nonchalant as she could but with little success. She was trembling inside, and it showed in her voice. How could you stand there calmly like nothing just happened between us?

He asked if he could come in, but Hermione wouldn't let him. Her door was not even fully opened.

"Look, I can't sleep."

"It's not my problem," she answered.

"The hell not! My bed's cold. Has been for quite a while."

"Hire your…girls to warm it. Look here, Malfoy, you're not standing outside my door just to let me know that you can't sleep and that your bed is too cold. So what the hell do you want?" She sounded angry, and she was.

"I just wanted to say Happy New Year," he said dryly. She returned the greeting with the same tone as his.

"Now you've said it. Go away and leave me alone," she added.

"Do you really want me to?" She didn't answer; she did not know what to say. She just stared at him. "Can I just come in? I won't bother you, I promise."

"I don't trust you."

"I'm not asking you to. You can kill me if you want to; just let me come in."

Great! He didn't even say please. Hermione thought. Before she could react, Draco was already inside, pushing gently his way in.

"You are intruding. I did not give you permission---" Before she could finish, Draco's lips were already on hers, silencing her. He parted from her and walked to the center of her room.

"Nice and warm," he remarked.

"What?" It took Hermione a minute to recover from his abrupt kiss.

"I mean your room. You should visit mine; it's pretty cold and dark, but I like it. Hmmm…your room is different. It's so…feminine and so damn arousing," he said. He continued to pace around her large room, looking at everything inside including a pile of books on her study table, and a dozen other books on a bookshelf next to the table. His gaze finally stopped on her four-poster bed.

"Out! Now!" She almost screamed the words as she held the door open as wide as it allowed. Draco looked at her and raised a brow, but instead of going out, he started for her bed.

Hermione's heart started hammering against her ribcage. What the hell is he here for? The thudding of her heart quickened its pace as Draco lied down on HER bed next to Crookshanks. He stroked the cat's fur and the cat reacted with a gentle purr. Backstabbing cat! Her mind shouted.

He placed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

"Don't you dare fall asleep!" Hermione shouted as she slammed the door and bolted it. Draco smiled, moved to the center, and patted the bed, motioning for Hermione to join him. Crookshanks was pushed farther to the side. "Uhh…uh… No way!"

"Suit yourself," he replied.

"What? You bastard!" Hermione stamped across the room towards her bed. "This is my room! You can't just come in, jump in my bed and act as if this place belongs to you!" Draco just raised a brow without opening his eyes. "Argh! You're impossible!" Without warning, Draco pulled her hand and hauled her on top of him. She tried to get off, but he held her even tighter. "Crookshanks! I need a hand here!" Her cat meowed and went back to sleep. "Argh!" She felt silly being ignored by her backstabbing cat. It's even sillier asking for help from the lazy feline.

"Stop moving; you're making me hornier," he suggested. Hermione stopped immediately. Their eyes met, and Draco smiled as she frowned. He brushed her hair away from her face and leaned up to kiss her brow, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips.

Once his lips brushed against hers, she knew she was trapped. She could no longer stop or hold on to that one last ounce of resistance. All her senses had left her.

Draco was not going to lose control. He had decided to lower his pride for her. When she says stop, he will; when he hints that she wants to stop, he will.

It was going to be hard. But he was going to try.

He rolled her on her back and came on top of her. His tongue continued to mate with hers as he applied rhythm and force to his every movement. Her groans of pleasure motivated him to continue on. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck. The scent of her hair and her skin stimulated him and drove him to madness.

If that was the way he felt just kissing her, how much more making love with her?

Her fingers crept from his shoulders to his nape, lightly pulling the tiny hairs that grew there. He let out a moan of extreme pleasure, and she realized that what she was doing to him was pure torture. He raised his head and looked down at her. Her lips were slightly parted and her hair was spread all over the pillows. She looked just as he pictured her a thousand times in his fantasies…only in his dreams, she was naked.

"God, you're so beautiful," he moaned in a low husky tone before claiming her lips again for another hot melting kiss. Her hands moved up to his head, pulling him down and disarranging his hair. She was restless beneath him. She arched her back to rub against his arousal as his fingers started fumbling with the buttons of her pajamas.

"No…" She whispered in between his kisses.

"Yes…" he persisted. Where was the control he vowed to keep? Where was his discipline?

"No…" She repeated, and he stopped. He rolled to his back, carrying her with him.

They fell asleep that New Year's morn in each others' arms.