Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter© or any of the concepts derived from the book series. The book series is the soul property of J.K. Rowling.
To Keep it Simple
Previous Chapter
"I think I—" Draco started, his voice ragged, but Hermione quickly silenced him with her hand. He was still cold, a slight disappointment. He kept his hand tangled in her hair and his arm around her waist. Not now—when they were so close. He was sure that if he said it, they could get the entire ordeal over with. The temptation and passion that drove the two wild was slowly breaking from it's bonds and even Hermione had to admit to herself that it felt good. She had to defeat the growing allure in order to maintain her self control. The questions she had seemed pointless now.
"Love you," he dragged out. Hermione wanted to slap him and force him to take it back, but it was of little use. After all, what's said was said and what he felt for her was none of her business. He could dig his own grave. However, it hurt to lead him on like this. She turned towards him, unbelieving of the transformed Slytherin before her. It felt like a dream, but she knew it wasn't. She couldn't play this role any longer.
"No, you don't."
Chapter 6- Frozen Inside
"What?" Draco asked, brow raised.
"You can't expect me to believe all of this, Malfoy. You ride in on a broom, freezing cold, you barely notice that your body temperature could classify you as dead.." Hermione quietly continued. "You're leaving me miles behind—I don't know where you are right now but I can tell you—I can't be there with you if you don't explain yourself."
"Come on, Granger!" he sneered as he reverted to his Slytherin ways as quickly as he had left them behind. "For once, leave behind your books and stop acting the part of the frigid—witch."
Both of them knew the true meaning behind his words. Hermione had to give him credit though- at least he wasn't as painstakingly trying to ensure that pain had been dealt in her direction. She quickly pulled her hand up, aiming it towards his cheek—hoping that her lightning movements would send enough sense through Draco's tangled thoughts.
He placed his own hand several inches from his cheek, the sound of her palm hitting his skin shattering the tension that had been so tightly bound between them. Hermione's digits immediately curled around his hand as she tried to pull it away. It came as no surprise when he refused to budge—her petite body against his trained one wasn't exactly an even battle. Her chest heaved grimly in defeat—the build up of the mixture of excitement and frustration reaching it's peak.
"You can hit me all you want—I won't stop you—but I promise you this, Granger, what ever you say, what ever you tell me—will not make me change my mind. So go ahead and slap me."
He removed his hand and Hermione quickly let go of it. When she turned to face him again, his head was turned down and she could see him shivering, a barely noticeable and controlled action that he forced his body to deal with. She suddenly reached out with both hands, her palms tensing as they touched his cold cheeks. It wasn't how she had planned any of this, but with cat like reflexes, she pushed herself forward along the sheets, colliding with his body. Her lips immediately sought his and as she'd expected, he was quick to return the unexpected but wanted action. His body was still abnormally cold. The emotion that had sent her flying towards him had been a composition of both intense caring and the heat of the moment—which would have seemed coincidentally humorous if not for the serious danger that Draco was in. She pulled her arms farther around his neck, her elbows laying level with his shoulders. He pulled away, the sound of their lips parting both torture and relief.
"You're—you're freezing, Draco," she said as she tried to take in deep breaths of control.
"Say that more often," he replied. Hermione looked at him, puzzlement revealing itself beneath the layers of blush.
"Draco—it sounds better when you say it," he softly mumbled into her throat. His gentle caresses sent her spiraling back into the plethora of ecstasy, his teeth nipping weakly at her nape and ear. She had lost total control of her actions and though she knew she would regret it—she could not help but look forward to it as well. They began to slip farther beneath the covers, their sitting positions inconvenient for the answers that they craved.
She half led him and he half guided her, her head resting comfortably atop one of the many silk pillows strewn across the mattress. He pulled up and stared down at her, never having felt such tightening in his chest before. He wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like—an unwanted clenching that refused to let go. At least he was warming up from both Hermione's body heat and the thick blankets that were layered one atop the other on the bed. He enjoyed the way his name slipped off her tongue—as if she hadn't meant to care when saying it but had unconsciously filled it with so much emotion that it could only have meant one thing.
Even though his fingers were no longer blocks of ice, Hermione still felt chills as he ran his hand down her spine. She felt awkward under his stare—like his prey. When she tried to turn her head away, Draco quickly turned it back so her eyes could face him. He leaned over again, devouring her with his eyes—the unfamiliar territory that had beckoned to him for so long seeming so deliciously tempting. With precise movements, his lips were on hers again, fingers traveling along the curves of her body, reaching her even through the flimsy night gown she still wore. His tongue craved attention from hers, yearning but non-forceful at the same time. He received a high with every noise she made—her satisfaction pushing him on. It was wrong, horrifically unplanned and definitely not expected—but what were they to do now? He had already thrown away his chance to escape eternities ago. He felt her hands running through his hair, her touch on his nape and head sending nonstop ripples of pleasure down his spine.
Hermione's eyelids begin to drop, her body giving into the wanted craving. She needed the reassurance and the proof from a suitor that she would never have dreamed of in any of her lifetimes. She could feel the familiar arousal that had broken them apart before, but it no longer frightened her as much. Her hand dared to dance down his arm, bounding across muscles, and landing ever so calmly atop the drawstring of her boxers. Draco suddenly ceased his actions and looked down at her with knowing eyes, unsure of whether to progress.
"I—Hermione—" he stuttered out, trying to gather his wits together.
She didn't need to think twice- though she really should have. All the problems that would for sure come of this action were no longer on her mind. The chance to simply touch him, discover him—be with him—excited her senses more then they had ever been excited in the sixteen years of which she had existed. She let the words slip from her tongue.
"Under one condition," she whispered. "You stop—whenever I ask you to."
Draco was more then sure that he could do that. When she finally nodded in her consent, his hands went searching, feather light touches atop her flat stomach and waist, pulling up the nightgown. He managed to quickly remove the article of clothing, tossing it to the ground with little care, his body now warm with both passion and heat. Hermione was slow to pull off his boxers, hands running down the expanse of his chest. She reached the band and tauntingly ran her fingers along it's rim, earning herself several grunts of impatience. Finally, she pulled them down far enough for him to kick them off himself, losing them among the sheets. He was no longer interested in the body that had fascinated him for weeks—just the woman behind the shield of coy genius. Hermione had never felt such an intense realization in her chest as she did now—and it frightened her beyond her imagination. Even as her heart fluttered about her insides, knocking the air from her lungs, she could not keep her eyes off of his. She let her fingers graze down his back, the only sound breaking the silence—their ragged breathing. He was still unsure of whether to proceed, she could see it in his crazed expression.
Hermione breathed her approval and slowly, but surely, he initiated the introduction of their bodies. She squeezed her eyes shut.
Moments later, she uttered his name so unnoticeably that she had not heard her own voice. Draco muttered her name over and over into her ear, the sound of him enough to keep her tangled emotions under control. She kept her fingers gripped to his back, his own hands lost admist her ocean of auburn hair.
"Stop," she managed to whisper.
It took all of Draco's power to cease his actions and pull out. Hermione's heart was beating fiercely—they had almost dropped off the ledge into an abyss of pleasure and he had stopped at her command. Him, of all people—listen to her. She felt no emotions, simply the growing of ones already there. Her expression remained calm, focused—as if she did not care about her sudden revelation. Draco lay above her, his body held several inches from hers. He breathed out in gasps, sweat slowly beading on his forehead. He stared at her. Hermione hoped that the feelings she saw scribbled across his features were worry and not despair.
"Are you all right?" he asked silently, an innocent hand brushing the strands of hair from her face.
"Don't stop," she said in reply. He blinked, but quickly cleared away the confusion and gently re-entered.
Conversation completely died as Hermione felt the passion stirring up once again. He held her as if she were about to break and she clutched onto him as if he were a boulder. As the heat mounted and sweat mingled with sweat, the only sound was the sound of their breathing each other's names. Finally, Hermione sensed an utterly new feeling that she could feel pouring through her veins. Her body involuntarily arched, Draco's hand quickly melting into the curve of her back. With a gasp and a proceeding moan, she dove into the waters of ecstasy. Seconds later, Draco dove in after her.
She woke to a foreign but very familiar touch. Her fingers slowly moved, rippling to make sure that they had not lost all feeling. Her back was pressed up against his broad chest, his heartbeat reassuring her that this, indeed, was reality. Her left leg was wound around his, which jerked in between both of hers. His arms wrapped around her upper torso, her arms held over hers. Blankets were pulled to her shoulders—signifying that he had been awake moments longer then she had. She tried to lift his hands from her chest, but woke him in the process.
"It's Saturday, stop moving," he muttered in complaint.
Hermione did as told, but remained awake. All the problems associated with their little fiasco had suddenly come flooding into her head. She automatically shivered in fear of all things that would come, regretting her decision.
"What in the—how are you still shivering?" Draco asked, pulling up the blankets and re-wrapping his arms around hers.
"We—we shouldn't have—it's all—what are we going to do?" she asked as her brow furrowed in worry.
Draco took in a deep breath, ignoring her questions. He nipped at the back of her neck, burrowing his nose into her waves of hair. Hermione nudged him roughly with her shoulders, then turned onto her other side to face him.
"What are we going to tell everybody?" she asked as she let her eyes slowly drift to the still locked door.
"We don't have to tell everybody," he mumbled as he played aimlessly with stray strands of her hair.
Hermione blinked and suddenly pulled out of his needy grasp. She clambered out of the bed, snatching one of the blankets to wrap herself in. While doing so, she tugged off the other sheets. She turned to face him, her body covered from head to toe in cloth. Draco slipped off the bed after her, completely fine with his nudity. Hermione suddenly felt dirty—the fact that Draco did not want to acknowledge her infuriated her.
"Calm down, you don't understand what I mean," he said, his brow furrowed to match hers.
"I think I do—"
"No—you don't—in the words of Hermione Granger," he hastily replied, grabbing onto her shoulders. "If we tell a soul—any living soul—we both risk losing everything. I know you've thought about it—there's no other way unless you plan on ruining both of our futures. We can still see each other in public if we keep up our prefect charade.."
Hermione angrily pushed his him back through the layers of blankets surrounding her. He took several steps backwards and held up his hands offensively.
"Unbelievable—Draco— we won't be able to pull this off—"
"You think I don't that, Granger? At least I'm trying to think up a way instead of trying to make the worst of the situation. This is going to kill me just as much as it will you," he snarled. Hermione hugged herself and shook her head, refusing to allow the realization to filter through. She already knew the truth, but having to deal with it now was enough to send her absolutely mad. What hurt most was his biting tone and the way he regressed from using her first name to her last whenever his moods changed. She wanted to scream at him and make him see through her eyes—but she could only guess what he had risked by following through with the ordeal.
"Why does it have to work this way?" she barely whispered.
Draco wanted to end it now before it got even more out of hand and slaughtered both of their reputations. However, her lost expression only helped in leading him to her. He kept his stance though, watching her with a weary glare. She tipped up her head, her face suddenly rejuvenated. Her expression was unreadable, a forced smile plastered onto her lips.
"You're right—I am making the worst of this situation," she said. Draco sighed a sigh of relief and took several steps towards her, hoping that another session of bed wrestling was in order. "So get out."
He stopped and Hermione pointed towards the window.
"I do not need to make this situation any more worse—so get out."
Draco grabbed his boxers and slipped into them rather hastily, even his movements produced during anger keeping Hermione's attention. With a brief smirk, he bent over her as he headed towards the window. His lips lingered on hers, but he quickly pulled away and snatched his broom's handle. He pushed open the window, but instead, turned towards her, sitting on the sill. He purposely splayed his legs apart. Hermione glared.
"I love you when you're feisty," he said rather calmly. Hermione rushed forwards and placed both palms on her hands. With a ferocious push, she knocked him from the ledge. He seemed to have expected it. While falling towards the ground, he managed to position his broom below him and flew off without a second look at Hermione.
Draco slipped back in through his window. As he set his broom down, an annoyingly high pitched voice broke the silence.
"Draco Malfoy—out flying on a Saturday morning in nothing but boxers?" Pansy shrieked as she stepped out from behind his wardrobe.
"How the bloody hell did you get in here?" he nearly yelled. She smiled and walked towards him.
"That's for me to know, and you to find out," she answered. Without her make-up to hide the pug like appearance, she was definitely an eye-boggling sight. Draco wanted to look away and fly back to Gryffindor Tower—back to Hermione so he could explain exactly why he could not see her as a serious half of a relationship. If it weren't for his family name, his house's beliefs, the morals he was brought up to believe—he would be home free. Pansy giggled in what Draco imagined was a flirtatious manner. It came out as a mix between a snort and choking. She dragged her hand down his bare chest, batting her eyelashes all the while. Draco looked down with a raised brow and picked off her fingers, tossing her palm back at her. She giggled and tried again, except for more force. Draco brushed her off again and took several steps back.
"What ever the hell you're thinking of doing, Pansy—it will not happen," he said casually. Pansy gasped, her eyes widening. She placed both hands on her hips and shoved out her chest as if she had something to prove. Draco could not help the convulsion that spread through him.
"Well—it seems like our Draco Malfoy has gotten a taste of Gryffindor and now he's a muggle lover," she taunted. Draco sneered but ignored her tasteless comments. He quickly pulled on a shirt laying about on the floor, feeling completely vulnerable without one in the presence of Pansy.
"Pansy—get out and take your sexual frustration with you. Imagining things will not help you get into my pants," he retorted. She gasped again, her drama queen act cutting at Draco's patience.
"It's that Gryffindor tramp—isn't it? You—of all people! Wait until the rest of the Slytherin house hears about this," she shrieked.
"It's a pity that they already know," he said smugly as he raised his brow. Pansy growled with rage and turned on her heel, sweeping towards the door. She turned around before she left.
"Slytherin knows that you're just seeing that mudblood to get on Dumbledore's good side—but they don't know that you've actually fallen for the little git!" she hollered, slamming the door as she left.
Draco shrugged off the entire dilemma, knowing that the Slytherins would not believe Pansy's words over his. He smirked and looked forward to his next night encounter with Hermione.
Author's Note: I know, the chapter moved very quickly and made no sense—but I wanted to quickly upload this chapter and start moving on with the next one. The question on most of your minds is probably about the entire action scene between Hermione and Draco. Protection—I'm guessing that a Slytherin like Draco who detests all muggle inventions is yet to hear of the condom. Maybe there's some other magical way they keep themselves protected- I don't know. Another question- Draco and Hermione fighting—already? I know, it makes me frustrated too but I just wanted to get the first sex scene over with so that the plot can build up and I can include the tiny details later and what not. Question number three- Why is it so cliché? I'm working on it xx Give me some time and I'll have all the originality stuffed back into it.
Questions about the last chapter- I'm so sorry that it was confusing—after reading some reviews and having friends read it and telling me their opinions—the last chapter was not filled with as much "spunk" or what not as usual and it was also confusing. The part in which Hermione and Ron are fighting is Draco's dream sequence—at the end Ron was supposed to be hitting her hard enough to knock her out which was supposed to be enough to scare Draco into believing that he could have lost her. Come to think of it, that dream thing is a bit corny oo I might work on that later—anyways, it could work both ways and depending on which way you readers would prefer me to go—keep with the corny dream or be original again—I'll do just that.
Thank you all reviewers! (Sex & Diamonds, angeL, Amora-Ryuko, freaker, nicole, Crazy4Wood, Gilthoniel, Krystal, willow fairy, tainted black, one man fan club, fire goddess and martha) I'm thinking of making a mailing list to mail people whenever I update—if you would like to be on the mailing list, e-mail me your e-mail address, or put your address with your review. Thanks again for all the support!