Disclaimer: Of course, I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I wouldn't be posting this on a fanfiction site, now would I? Anyway, JKR owns the little critters... I just own this computer and some pathetic attempts at fanfiction. The song "Hands Down" is written and performed by Dashboard Confessional, which is the song I use for this songfic (duh). The line "the smell of the atmosphere after it rains" is based/stolen from The Ataris' song "So Long, Astoria." And lastly, The scene from "Do you think anyone can hear us down here?" to "Like you don't get enough of me," is highly based on the scene from the movie Clerks; directed, written, and co- starring Kevin Smith, one of my favorite directors/actors ever.
A/N: hey! Thanks so much for at least VISITING my songfic URL! anyway, if you're going to read it, make to sure review. Now on with the actual story.
"Did I ever tell you that I love your hands?" Hermione asked me.
Breathe in for luck, breathe in so deep,
this air is blessed, you share with me.
She was examining the whole of my right hand with her own manicured ones, tickling my palm with her every gesture. We were sitting on the floor of a walk-in closet with her back against my chest. Every single time I inhaled I could smell the palatable scent of her hair. It was always invigorating, but not distracting enough to play one of our old and favorite verbal games."Yes," I answered with a smirk that you could hear in my voice, "but I cease to never tire of hearing that praise."
"You never cease to tire of any of my praises to you," she turned her head to look at me and smiled, the entirety of her face wrapped in the grin. I leaned forward and not only captured her lips, but this moment too...
This night is wild, so calm and dull,
these hearts they race from self control.
I sank my back into his chest once again and sighed out of content. Was tonight a messed up night, I thought as I once again played with one of Draco's hands. His hands felt so soft yet looked so strong, being so big and manly. Ya know what they say about guys with big hands... I grinned and shook my head. Of course, I already knew what kind of man Draco was. But anyway, I traced my index finger along one of his palm's creases, feeling him shiver and slightly flinch at the sensitive areas.
"Ticklish?" I asked.
"Maybe a little," he shrugged, trying to make himself look nonchalant.
"I'll remember that for future reference."
"Shit..."
Your legs are smooth as they graze mine,
we're doing fine, we're doing nothing at all.
For some reason, I loved doing basically anything with Hermione. Even just talking was a great experience for me, as I know for her too. With every other girl I've been with in the past, this activity bored the shit out of me. That's how I knew Hermione was different. That's how I figured I loved her.
"Did I ever tell you," I said in a serious tone, "that I'm really grateful you understand everything that happened in the last six months, and that I'm sorry?"
My hopes are so high
that you're kiss might kill me.
So won't you kill me? So I die happy?
I turned my face to him, both our expressions set for a no-joking theme. I brought my lips to his, cradling his head with my hand. I could taste some of the wine he had had earlier at the party, before we had ventured here to this secluded space. His white flaxen hair felt soft as I swept my fingers tips through it. Thank god he stopped using gel years ago, I thought as I smiled against his lips for a second, then plunged back into his mouth.
There was a time in my life when I thought I would never feel this way again; that Draco would be gone forever. But now I was so happy. Happy that he was really finally here, with me.
I pulled away slowly and smiled. "Yeah, you have actually." I tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear, staring into his eyes with admiration and my face soft. "Draco... Dumbledore already explained all of this. You were just following orders. You don't have to be sorry about anything. What I went through was a just a minuscule period of time that doesn't even mean anything now. Of course I completely understand. I would have to be a cold- hearted bitch to not accept you. You did nothing wrong."
My heart is yours to fill or burst,
to break or bury, or wear as jewelry,
whichever you prefer.
I grinned back. "I know, I just never tire of hearing that either." I crept my hand behind her head and played with her loose, curly hair. Tilting my head to the side slightly, I continued our game. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"
She mocked my head tilting and rubbed her chin with her fingers. With a look full of fake concentration, "Ya know, I don't think so. If you have, please inform me again."
I took in a deep breath, but the playfulness didn't escape my mood. "I love you... like how cats love milk."
"Really?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, the complete Malfoy look. "Is that supposed to be charming, Mr. Malfoy?"
I pouted and tried to look hurt, crossing my arms. "Yes, but I supposed you have some better metaphor to compete with my own? How much so you love moi?"
She thought about the concept for a second, then began. "I love you like..." she paused for dramatic affect and smiled after the long pause, "like how dragons love fire."
Raising my hands in mock surrender, I said, "I dare say, you beat me again, Ms. Granger." She smirked with satisfaction and snuggled back against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and I could now feel her fingertips dancing from my wrist to my elbow.
The words are hushed, let's not get busted.
Just lay entwined here, undiscovered.
I heard a soft crash in the distance, probably coming from somewhere in the house. Ginny's party's getting a little crazy. Knowing Ginny, her party would probably end around four in the morning. It's not that Ginny's parties were too crazy for me; it's just that I wasn't in the mood to mingle with other people. That's the reason why Draco and I were in her walk-in closet.
I turned Draco's Rolex on his wrist so I could read the time: almost one o'clock in the morning. I knew some people were already leaving, but somehow I felt worse if I left "early", being one of Ginny's best friends. I'll leave at two. That's not too late or too early for her. Or would she be too drunk to even notice us leave at all?
I heard a crowd of people laugh hysterically from below us, cutting off my train of thought.
Safe in here, from all the stupid questions.
"Hey did you get some?"
Man that is so dumb.
Stay quiet, stay near,
stay close, they can't hear.
So we can get some.
Without moving, she asked, "Do you think anyone can hear us?"I thought about it and repositioned myself, feeling tired. "No, I don't think so." I laughed. "Why? Wanna have sex or something?"
Surprise and eagerness filled her timbre. "Can we?"
I jerked my head back. I was just kidding, but now that she wants to... "Really?"
"I was just kidding," she let out a snort of air and rolled her eyes.
"Like you don't get enough of me." I rolled my eyes and smirked. "Damn. Don't get me excited like that."
"Draco Malfoy? Get excited? Never."
I sighed loudly and rested my eyes for a second, my eyelids becoming too heavy to keep open...
Hands down, this is the best day I can ever remember,
always remember,
the sound of the stereo,
the dim of the soft lights,
the scent of your hair that you twirled in your fingers
and the time on the clock,
when we realized it's so late,
and this walk that we shared together...
"AHHHH!" I jumped up from the floor and snapped my eyes open, looking in the screamer's direction. Ginny was wrapped in a towel and had a startled expression on her face. She was standing in the door of the walk- in closet, her hair still wet.
"Hermione? Draco? What the hell are you still doing here? And in my closet?" she wrapped the towel tighter around her chest and furrowed her eyebrows in aggravation. Rolling her eyes and pointing toward her bedroom door, "Please leave so I can dress in peace."
Draco and I got up groggily as I apologized to the nearly naked redhead and we exited.
"Tradition?" I asked as we stepped out of her back door.
"Of course," he replied as his arm snaked around my waist.
the streets were wet, and the gate was locked,
so I jumped it, and I let you in.
And you stood at your door, with your hands on
my waist...
It's always been our tradition to walk instead of Apparate whenever we were coming back from Ginny's house. For what reason, neither of us knows. Hermione's house wasn't centuries away though; the stroll only took about twenty minutes most of the time."I guess it rained while we were sleeping," Hermione concluded as we stepped onto the damp street, shops curving along the side of the road. Ginny lived very close in a town almost identical to Hogsmeade, minus the Three Broomsticks and the Hog's Head.
The shops around us were starting to open up for business. I checked my watch to discover the time was 9:15, obviously in the morning. I still can't believe we fell asleep in her closet... I shook my head absentmindedly at the thought.
"What?" Hermione asked, inclining her head in my way, concerned. "What are you thinking about?"
I sighed and chuckled. "I still can't believe we fell asleep in Ginny's closet."
"Oh," she responded, placing her head rest on my shoulder as I slowly crept my arm up to her shoulders. "She'll get over it. Plus it's Sunday. It's not like we have anything big planned."
"Oh? You really think I don't have anything already planned for today?" I smirked and waved at the bartender who had just propped open his door.
"Really?" Suspicion was draped all over her voice, but not in a negative way. "What—"
"You'll see," I interrupted cruelly and laughed again.
We walked the rest of the way in silence, just admiring the quietness of the morning and the sweet sounds of the birds. The clicking of our shoes on the pavement. The smell of the atmosphere after it rains. The apple trees' leaves—
"Oh shit," Hermione whispered discouragingly and stopped. We had finally reached her two-story house but she had stopped at the front of her lawn, facing her house.
"What is it, babe?" I asked, letting her go and standing beside her.
"I forgot my gate key," she explained, half-mockingly, and she added a pout. "Can you hop on over and open it?"
I sighed like her request bugged me, but I kept my face straight. "Sure," I grumbled, only joking, "but just this one last time." Her fence was a simple wooded one, about seven or eight feet tall. Thank Merlin I'm a tall guy. I smiled and approached the fence.
Grabbing onto the top of the fence for support, I stepped onto the sturdy bush below me, appearing about two feet above the ground. I used the fence as a sort of vault as I jumped over the fence with almost complete ease. All those Quidditch years really paid off...
Instead of opening the gate immediately, I leaned my back against it slyly. "Ya know, I could leave you out there all day..."
"C'mon, Draco, open up!" she pleaded. "I have a surprise waiting for you too."
"Really? What kind of a surprise?" I was stalling, and I knew she loved to hate it. I also knew there was no real surprise, but I truly couldn't be that cruel to her by making her stand outside her own gate.
"I can't show you until you open the door." She actually sounded truthful this time. Maybe she does have a surprise...
I gave in and opened the gate halfway so she could enter, then I closed it. "What's the surprise?" I asked.
She stared at me and smiled, wrapping her arms around my neck and letting our faces fall inches from the other. "What surprise?" she teased.
"You dirty little scamp," I chided playfully, returning her smile. I kissed her forehead, then her nose, then each cheek, and finally a long- lasting kiss on her rosy lips. We started walking toward her backdoor when I decided to intervene with the whole gate ordeal.
"You should really get that bloody spell off your gate," I chided once again, trying to play the part of the parent. "You could just use 'Alohomora', and the gate would be open."
"Oh please," she rolled her eyes, "'Alohomora' is the oldest trick in the book. I learned that in first year. Anyone could get in."
"Well, if you plan on still keeping that gate bewitched, remember to get your key. I can't always be your hero." As we approached her door, we stopped right outside, part of our tradition.
"You will always be my hero," she concluded with an upward curve of her lips.
and you kissed me like you meant it,
and I knew that you meant it.
Taciturnity developed in both of us as we stared each other down. The silenced only lasted for probably more than a few seconds, but to me the segment seems like an eternity. Our faces bared no trace of the mockery and playfulness that was apparent only a few minutes ago.
His eyes were boring into mine, as my own were pursuing the same action into his. Over the years, I've learned to adore his eyes. When we were growing up as adolescents, I remember his stare being malevolent, the gray of his eyes anything but a warm welcome. Now, whenever we had these staring contests, or when I caught his eye, or when I couldn't help but goggle at Draco without him noticing, his eyes have really changed. Now there's love behind those irises; there's care behind those eyelids; there's hope behind those pupils. And there's so much more behind that grey- blue color.
He was the first one to speak. "Well... I had a great time."
"Me too," I said unsurely as I glanced back at the ground.
"Maybe next time we won't be so late coming home? It's daylight out here."
"Yeah, maybe."
He kissed me ever so lightly, then fastened the pace after a few seconds of ecstasy. My arms were locked behind his neck; his hands were tangled in my hair, pushing our mouths closer together. I could still taste a hint of wine in his mouth, but it was only an inkling. Then, pulling away slowly, he opened the door for me, and I walked inside, Draco trailing behind me and closing the door. Our tradition.