IMPRESSIONS chapter seventeen
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, except for stuff you don't recognize.
Summary: An emotionally, physically, and mentally wounded Draco needs someone to help him, whether he wants to admit it or not, after his father lands in Azkaban, his mother is committed to St. Mungo's, and his entire world crumbles. Romance/Angst.
Author's Note: Please review!
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
He cut off her words for a third time with his lips, and Hermione succumbed quickly and willingly, deciding that she would ride this wave until it ended. I don't care what they say.
They broke apart for a second. "Why are you doing this?" Hermione whispered, her breathing ragged.
"I don't know," said Draco, refusing to lower his arms. He leaned in again but Hermione turned her cheek.
"Draco…" she began unsteadily. "If this is just because I've been helping you"-
"Be quiet," he told her softly. "Don't think."
She stared at him in surprise and he took advantage of her lips once again as he pinned her to the wall with his arms.
It was only the sound of something large – and heavy – crashing down somewhere close that made them stop. Hermione, as the thing shook the stones, jumped away.
"What was that?" she asked uncertainly.
"I don't know. Who cares?" asked Draco, not moving.
"Oh, Merlin!" Hermione exclaimed, staring at the clock on the wall. "It's nearly ten o'clock!"
"So?"
"I have to get back to Gryffindor Tower before it's past curfew," said Hermione firmly.
"You don't have to… You could stay here," said Draco slyly, stepping away and sitting down on the couch.
Hermione flushed a bright red. "Look, just because I kissed you…"
"What?"
"Does it mean"- Hermione's cheeks were now alarmingly red –"Does it mean that anything is – I don't know – is anything going to be"-
He shrugged. "You only kissed me to prove a point, remember?" he said lightly.
She paled. "I did not!" she said hotly.
His eyebrows rose elegantly. "Oh? What for, then?"
She opened and closed her mouth several times before speaking. "Because- because – I don't know why, okay?" she snapped at him.
He smirked. "It's okay if it was just because I'm a unbelievable kisser," he told her seriously, his eyes glinting.
She narrowed her eyes. "Well, I haven't had that much experience, have I?"
"Maybe not, but it was all good," he said, fighting the urge to laugh in her face.
"Why do you have to be so insufferably arrogant?" Hermione threw up her arms and massaged her temples with her hands. "Can we just forget that we did this?" she pleaded finally.
"But whatever for, dear Granger?" Draco asked, feigning hurt.
"How's the cut?" she asked abruptly.
"It's as well as to be expected," he said coolly. "Why did you change the subject?"
"I just – don't want to talk about this, okay? I acted stupidly and now I'm trying to"-
He covered her mouth with his hand. "Be quiet," he said mildly. "Now… I assume that you are afraid that Potter and Weasley will find out that you kissed me, correct?" he questioned.
"Of course not!" Hermione blustered once he removed his hand. "Maybe I just don't want everyone to think"- she halted as she realized what she had said.
"Why do you care so much?" he asked her, amused.
"It's just, you're not exactly nice, or the type of guy I would be interested in, and you've been with so many girls"- Hermione said, saying the first things that came into her head.
His eyes hardened. "So, I am not 'nice,' as you put it, and I'm a player. Did you ever wonder why?" he asked, all traces of amusement gone.
"Wonder 'why' what?" asked Hermione, confused.
He sighed dramatically. "Honestly, for someone who is supposed to be smart--!"
"What?"
"There is a reason why I'm a slut," he said, being uncharacteristically patient with her.
She laughed slightly.
"What?"
"Nothing, just you called yourself a slut," she said, fighting giggles.
He looked at her in undisguised surprise. "Right, okay," he said warily. "Look, I'm only—promiscuous--because the girls around me are," he said finally.
"That makes no sense whatsoever," Hermione announced after conquering her fit of laughs.
"Of course it does. The girls want a good lay, and I happen to be one. That's the reason," he told her seriously.
Her mouth dropped and her cheeks went brilliantly red. "I don't need to know this," she said haughtily. "And what does that have to do with me?"
"It's just to show that there's a reason," he shrugged. "Now, when was the last time I was truly a prat?" he questioned, releasing her arms and stepping away.
"What?" she asked, annoyed. "You always are! You are so horrible to Ron and Harry constantly, I really don't"-
He rolled his eyes. "When was I a prat to you?" he rephrased.
"Oh."
"Answer the question."
"What are you trying to prove?" asked Hermione finally. "That your promiscuity is justified and that I should like you because you haven't been a complete prick this year?"
"Hardly," he said, inspecting his nails.
"Then what? Because from what it seems to me, you're trying to convince me that you're okay!" she Hermione heatedly.
He sighed. "I'm trying to convince you that while your accusations are not completely unfounded, they aren't warranted, either."
"What?"
"Vivere e perdona," he said shortly. "It means, 'live and forgive.'"
She was quiet for a few seconds. "What are you trying to say?"
"Do I have to spell it out?" he snapped angrily.
"Obviously so."
He raised his eyes upwards. "All right. I want you to forgive me."
"What?"
"The most popular response, I see," he said dryly.
"But why?" she asked, dumbfounded.
"Why would I want to be forgiven?" he asked her, raising his eyebrows.
She flushed. "Well, I mean, why the sudden change of heart?"
"Well, I was hoping you'd do it on your own, but it seems that I have to ask," he sighed.
"You didn't answer my question," she accused.
"Well, you have done plenty of evasion, yourself," he retorted. "If you hadn't picked up on it, I'm not exactly comfortable talking about this," he spat.
"Forgiveness, sorrow… Shit like that," he said, waving a hand dismissively.
"Well, if you think it's worthless, I'm not going to forgive you," she said primly, straightening her shoulders.
He groaned. "Look, it's not shit, okay? It means the world to me," he said sarcastically.
The corner of her mouth twitched. "Fine."
'"Fine' what?" he asked wearily.
"Fine… I forgive you."
"For what?" he prompted.
"Well, for what do you want me to forgive you?" she asked.
"For the last five years."
"Right. I forgive you for the last five years," she chanted. "Now, why did you want me to do that?"
He shrugged. "It's for me to know," he said, smirking.
She placed her hands on her hips. "If I'm to forgive you, you're going to tell me why," she commanded in a low voice.
He crossed his arms. "No," he said acidly. "If I tell you, I'll tell you in my own time."
Hermione deflated. "Fine," she whispered. "May I leave?"
"No one's stopping you," came the sharp response.
She sighed and looked up at his eyes – cold and iron gray. "Why won't you tell me?"
A muscle in his jaw twitched. "I said that you may leave."
"You can't tell me what to do."
"And yet you asked for permission to leave?" he cocked is head curiously. "That's an interesting practice for one who claims to have no master."
"I don't."
"Not even Potter?"
"Look, Malfoy, what do you want with me? I've given up pretty much everything in order to help me, and you haven't changed at all!" Hermione exploded. "I've sacrificed my friends' trust, my house's respect, and the Quidditch game! You could at least show a little appreciation!"
"I already said that I caught the snitch before I fell," he growled rebelliously.
"Who cares?"
"All right, Granger, you want to know why?" he bellowed quite suddenly. "You want to know why I want your forgiveness?"
"Yes, I do!"
"Because I want to try again!" he spat.
"At what?" asked Hermione, mystified.
"At school, at home, at life," he muttered furiously. "Everything, it you want to pin it down. I'm sick and tired of everything."
Hermione was speechless.
"You wanted to know," he reminded her coldly.
"I know," said Hermione in a small voice. "I'm just surprised."
"Why? Shocked that evil Malfoy is human?" he spat.
"Partly. But it's more than that," said Hermione truthfully.
"What? Pity? I'm not to be pitied, Granger."
"Could you please call me by my first name?" asked Hermione exasperatedly.
"Why should I?"
"Because I am asking politely."
He glared at her. "Fine," he conceded.
"Thank you."
Draco had to swallow before replying. "You're welcome," he said in a strangled voice.
"And I will call you by your first name. No exceptions," said Hermione dutifully.
"Right."
"Oh, Merlin…"
"What?" he asked sharply.
Hermione sighed unhappily. "It's 10:15."
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Author's Note: PLEASE READ. My father has been increasingly less tolerant of my computer time lately, so if the next chapter doesn't come out with the rapidity of most, I apologize beforehand. I tried to make this chapter longer; it's about 1450 words on my computer. I'm trying to bring romance into it, and I'm sorry it's slow—painfully slow, I understand. But I have laid the foundations for it, and I swear that something important will happen before Chapter Twenty.
I am in absolute shock; this story has 151 reviews. I am completely thunderstruck by the response and I'd like to thank all my reviewers. It means so much to me.
Look for the next chapter within two days.
Ar-Zimraphel