Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, though I wish I could come up with something amazingly similar so I could be a multimillionare. J.K. Rowling is the author of those wonderful novels. This fanfic is my own invention however. DON'T STEAL IT! hehe :P
Authors Note: Hi, Hi! Second chapter, be proud fellow readers, I actually have never been bothered to write a second chapter for anything, so be please with yourselves, you were my inspiration. Yun Fei, I know you said that you thought this had no real plot- and I completely agree with you! hehe In Author's note 1. I basically said I came up with it in about 3hrs, when I was considerably bored, and had no intention of continuing it. But thanks to you guys (reviewers), I feel much better about this story. I hope this gives a bit more a plot. I'm still deciding on the kind of development and relationship that I want to develop between the two. I added a little bit more to Chapter 1, and fixed up the format.
My face was red, amazingly red, I could feel it burning under the dim lights of the Hogwart's Hallways as I slowly make my way up to the Head rooms, where my private space lies.
"Mione!" A voice springs into my mind, and I spin and face Lavender who is racing towards me. It's only been five minutes since those moments in the library and I can still feel my hot cheeks. But as Lavender approaches I feel the heat burning in them, and I'm almost tempted to push her away as she engulfs me in a friendly hug, worried that they might burn her. "You look parched! Have you had anything to drink?" she asks, obviously concerned, and I have to wonder, after those years of experience that she's had, why she doesn't notice the embarrassed blush. How many times have I seen her sneak into the dorms at two in the morning, her cheeks burning with red flames, as she sets about giving us, her roommates, a blow-by-blow account of her experiences with Ron, or one of her other males.
"No, I'm fine really, just a bit tired that's all. I was sitting in the sun for too long; heat stroke probably." I ramble effortlessly and just catch the strange look that she shoots me. Dammit Hermione, you know that you ramble when you're embarrassed and she knows it too. "I think I'm just going to lye down, that's all."
"Rightio, Herms, but you know; you really don't look too good. Are you sure you haven't eaten something bad?" Maybe not eaten something, but he definitely wasn't good.
Sure, Sure, keep telling yourself that. I slap myself mentally and plaster a smile on my face, willing my cheeks to cool even a little bit. "Hehe, silly me, must have been that carton of milk I drank earlier, it was a day old but it tasted fine." Again that look is sent my way, and I shudder. How am I ever going to live that laugh down? "I think I'm might just go now and lye down. If you see the boys, tell them I'll be down later to help them with homework." Lavender smiles at me sweetly before rushing off to talk to some one new, and I quickly walk away, shaking my head. Oh dear God, save me now!
I finally make it to the dorms, and the portrait of Dumbledore outside winks at me. "Peachy Hankies." I mutter casually, and the door swung open, revealing a dimly lit common room. "Lumos," I say lightly, and immediately the lights surrounding the room come to life. With the lights on, and the shadows disappearing to the furthest corners, the room is an amazing sight. There is a single sofa in the shade of blue surrounded by two matching chairs of blood red, a reasonably sized fireplace, a small bar fridge, where my daily supply of milk lies, and a pair of French doors, which lead onto a veranda. I stagger into the room, my feet feeling light a breezy, and make my way to the veranda, the doors already half open, allowing a wafting breeze to float in. My cheeks are still hot. DAMN THEM! And I return them to my hands, trying desperately to destroy the flames, which lick at them constantly.
Is it just me, or is it hot in here! Finally on the marble floor of the veranda, I pause and lean on the railing, letting the wind rustle through my curls and dry the moose, which I've learnt to ceremoniously apply to them. I learnt at the end of sixth year, that muggle-moose was the only thing that tamed them, and didn't change my appearance too much. Finally alone, I allow my mind to wander back to the previous events of the day, and find myself blushing all over again.
I take hold of my mind firmly and beat it down with a stick before shouting at it over and over: IT WAS JUST A KISS! At that thought, my mind remembers something else, equally important. It was just a kiss, and it was with Malfoy. Oh dear God! It was with Malfoy! And then it remembers yet another equally important thing, which calms me slightly more. He kissed me. And I sigh, and realise, that I had no say in the action whatsoever. I think.
My cheeks however, are still burning, and I'm becoming insufferably annoyed with them. I think back to the moment that has my mind consumed, and find myself blushing even harder. What is with today and these cheeks?
I smirked against his lips as he moaned into my mouth, and quickly repeated the process of grating my nails across the sensitive place behind his ear. I made a boy moan, I've never made a boy moan. Another memory reminds me, and I almost moan again at the thought. His tongue plunders inside my mouth like fiery demon, and it takes all my restraint not to groan as it raked against my soft pallet.
I snap out of my reverie as squeal suddenly erupts from me, as something icy cold is applied to my cheeks. I catch a pale hand running away from my cheeks and spin to meet my offender, already knowing, but agonising over, who it is. "Ice for your thoughts, Granger." He sneers, and I blush as I watch him slip the piece of ice into his mouth and his tongue slip lazily around it. He reaches out and quickly catches something on my cheek, but I shudder at the feeling of his fingers tracing my cheek.
What the hell is wrong with me! Shoot me now! I'll give you the gun, take off the safety and line it up with my head, if only you'll take away this god awful feeling away.
"You know, I never would taken you as a blusher, but it actually doesn't look too bad on you. Red's definitely your colour." He states casually, and my eyes widen considerably, as he leans up against the railing beside me. I'm surprised to say the least, and suddenly realise something absolutely unbelievable. Malfoy is being easy-going! I notice his appearance, his unbuttoned shirt, rolled up cuffs, and mussed up hair and realise something else, he is not easy-going, he is unbelievably nervous. My mind does a little jig, and I'm almost tempted to join it, until I see Malfoy staring lazily at me.
"What!" I snap, annoyed suddenly by his manner. "I can't believe you... you..." I can't seem to finish my sentence, and he smirks that God awful smirk.
"You can't believe I what! What Granger? That I kissed you! Believe me, you're not the only one! I had no intention of going anywhere in the relative area of your lips, but annoyingly tempting. In your prissy little uniform and your golden curls," he gives them a flick, as if, even now, they're annoying him, "you're just asking for someone to mindless snog the shit out of you. God you fucking piss-... bloody hell!" I take an uneasy step backwards, and finally notice the rolly that he's got in his fingers. They're shaking with amazing clarity and I reach out and snatch the cigarette away.
My father smokes. Yes, he's a dentist, but that doesn't mean he has to have wonderful teeth as well. I deftly roll the paper around the thin strip of tobacco, lick the tab and press it down. "If you're going to smoke, at least learn how to roll." I mutter as I pass it back to him, and wonder how where I found the confidence.
He raises an eyebrow at me, and there is a particular look in his eye. "You're just full of surprises, Granger." He smirks, and withdraws a thin, green lighter, decorated with silver swirls, from his pocket. Trust a slytherin. He lights it, takes a long drag and then exhales over the balcony, leaning against it as he seems to give me the one over. "What was I, Granger?" he wonders aloud, and I give him a look which passes on my lack of understanding.
"What were you? Um, Ex-nay, on the eanis-nah, but at the present moment I have no idea what the hell you're talking about!" He infuriates me to no end, but at the moment, I can't seem to find my feet and walk away from him. His eyes are amazingly blue I'm noticing right now, and the breeze is blowing his loosened hair across his face in white waves. He could say he was a faery at this moment, and I sure as hell would believe him.
"Your first, your second. No, of course not. That Krum guy, what was his name? Victor, he was probably your first, and Weasley couldn't have missed out on this. So, your third, your fourth?" He raises an eyebrow, and still I'm not quite sure what he's talking about, but there are radars definitely going off in my head. "God Granger! Do I have to spell it out! Your kiss! Who taught you to fucking kiss like that?" His voice is edged like a knife and I stumble back a few steps, my face being consumed by flames even as the wind blows across this small space.
He looks livid, but even angry; I can just make out a faint red blush, which tints his cheeks. So it's not only me, the kiss did something to him as well. I'm relieved for a moment, and pause in my retreat, but quickly back up, banging my back against the wall as he proceeds towards me. "What the hell are you, to look so proper and so perfect when you kiss like some enchantress?" His words are laced with tension, and I suddenly find myself yanked forward, my face raised to meet his. His fingers are laced around my hair like raven's talons, and they pull hard on it, until I'm an inch, perhaps less from him. "Why does something so... so... alluring have to so dirty... so wrong?" And with that, he pulls my hair even harder, painfully hard, and I cry out. But my gasp of pain is cut short, swallowed within his mouth, as he pushes our lips together.
His hold on my hair lessens considerably as his tongue playfully dances against my lips, and it almost feels like a massage. Both my hands are squished up against his chest and I groan as his tongue pushes through my quaking lips and breaks down any control that I might have had, had he not laced his arm around my waist and dragged me closer.
My hand inches away from its imprisonment, as I lose myself in the kiss and slowly I begin to return the licking flames that he's erupting in my mouth. My arm winds its way around his neck and drags him too closer, and I feel that I cannot get enough of this annoying, insulting, devil-impersonating boy.
I stand on my tiptoes, trying to entice more of the fire that's erupting in me, and all of a sudden feel tears dripping down my cheeks. I'm wrapped in a passionate embrace with my worst enemy and all I can think is one thought. How can anger feel so unbelievably hot...
He too notices the tears as well, and as his hold on me loosens even more, the hand around my waist that had been caressing ever so slightly slowing, I can't stop myself from groaning, as I yank myself away. "I... I..." I can't finish my sentence or anything else that's happening in this situation and I touch my lips ever so slightly with my fingers, noticing that his lips are bruised, and wondering if mine mirror that look. He steps forward again, appearing to begin our actions yet again, but all I can do, is slip away and run into my room.
Why is it, that in the last few hours, I've found myself scorched and burned, sitting upon my arse, in some darkened corner, wishing, that it had continued for so much longer, but with another person. I had no hope of catching up now.
The scoreboard was two hundred to Draco, ten to Hermione.
A door slammed and resonated throughout the Head Dorm, and I considered this. Twice I'd turned away from Malfoy's advances, and still he'd come looking for more, if I kept turning him away would this burning ever stop. I slipped my face into my hands and shuddered, what the hell was happening here.
Authors Note: Hi, Hi! Second chapter, be proud fellow readers, I actually have never been bothered to write a second chapter for anything, so be please with yourselves, you were my inspiration. Yun Fei, I know you said that you thought this had no real plot- and I completely agree with you! hehe In Author's note 1. I basically said I came up with it in about 3hrs, when I was considerably bored, and had no intention of continuing it. But thanks to you guys (reviewers), I feel much better about this story. I hope this gives a bit more a plot. I'm still deciding on the kind of development and relationship that I want to develop between the two. I added a little bit more to Chapter 1, and fixed up the format.
My face was red, amazingly red, I could feel it burning under the dim lights of the Hogwart's Hallways as I slowly make my way up to the Head rooms, where my private space lies.
"Mione!" A voice springs into my mind, and I spin and face Lavender who is racing towards me. It's only been five minutes since those moments in the library and I can still feel my hot cheeks. But as Lavender approaches I feel the heat burning in them, and I'm almost tempted to push her away as she engulfs me in a friendly hug, worried that they might burn her. "You look parched! Have you had anything to drink?" she asks, obviously concerned, and I have to wonder, after those years of experience that she's had, why she doesn't notice the embarrassed blush. How many times have I seen her sneak into the dorms at two in the morning, her cheeks burning with red flames, as she sets about giving us, her roommates, a blow-by-blow account of her experiences with Ron, or one of her other males.
"No, I'm fine really, just a bit tired that's all. I was sitting in the sun for too long; heat stroke probably." I ramble effortlessly and just catch the strange look that she shoots me. Dammit Hermione, you know that you ramble when you're embarrassed and she knows it too. "I think I'm just going to lye down, that's all."
"Rightio, Herms, but you know; you really don't look too good. Are you sure you haven't eaten something bad?" Maybe not eaten something, but he definitely wasn't good.
Sure, Sure, keep telling yourself that. I slap myself mentally and plaster a smile on my face, willing my cheeks to cool even a little bit. "Hehe, silly me, must have been that carton of milk I drank earlier, it was a day old but it tasted fine." Again that look is sent my way, and I shudder. How am I ever going to live that laugh down? "I think I'm might just go now and lye down. If you see the boys, tell them I'll be down later to help them with homework." Lavender smiles at me sweetly before rushing off to talk to some one new, and I quickly walk away, shaking my head. Oh dear God, save me now!
I finally make it to the dorms, and the portrait of Dumbledore outside winks at me. "Peachy Hankies." I mutter casually, and the door swung open, revealing a dimly lit common room. "Lumos," I say lightly, and immediately the lights surrounding the room come to life. With the lights on, and the shadows disappearing to the furthest corners, the room is an amazing sight. There is a single sofa in the shade of blue surrounded by two matching chairs of blood red, a reasonably sized fireplace, a small bar fridge, where my daily supply of milk lies, and a pair of French doors, which lead onto a veranda. I stagger into the room, my feet feeling light a breezy, and make my way to the veranda, the doors already half open, allowing a wafting breeze to float in. My cheeks are still hot. DAMN THEM! And I return them to my hands, trying desperately to destroy the flames, which lick at them constantly.
Is it just me, or is it hot in here! Finally on the marble floor of the veranda, I pause and lean on the railing, letting the wind rustle through my curls and dry the moose, which I've learnt to ceremoniously apply to them. I learnt at the end of sixth year, that muggle-moose was the only thing that tamed them, and didn't change my appearance too much. Finally alone, I allow my mind to wander back to the previous events of the day, and find myself blushing all over again.
I take hold of my mind firmly and beat it down with a stick before shouting at it over and over: IT WAS JUST A KISS! At that thought, my mind remembers something else, equally important. It was just a kiss, and it was with Malfoy. Oh dear God! It was with Malfoy! And then it remembers yet another equally important thing, which calms me slightly more. He kissed me. And I sigh, and realise, that I had no say in the action whatsoever. I think.
My cheeks however, are still burning, and I'm becoming insufferably annoyed with them. I think back to the moment that has my mind consumed, and find myself blushing even harder. What is with today and these cheeks?
I smirked against his lips as he moaned into my mouth, and quickly repeated the process of grating my nails across the sensitive place behind his ear. I made a boy moan, I've never made a boy moan. Another memory reminds me, and I almost moan again at the thought. His tongue plunders inside my mouth like fiery demon, and it takes all my restraint not to groan as it raked against my soft pallet.
I snap out of my reverie as squeal suddenly erupts from me, as something icy cold is applied to my cheeks. I catch a pale hand running away from my cheeks and spin to meet my offender, already knowing, but agonising over, who it is. "Ice for your thoughts, Granger." He sneers, and I blush as I watch him slip the piece of ice into his mouth and his tongue slip lazily around it. He reaches out and quickly catches something on my cheek, but I shudder at the feeling of his fingers tracing my cheek.
What the hell is wrong with me! Shoot me now! I'll give you the gun, take off the safety and line it up with my head, if only you'll take away this god awful feeling away.
"You know, I never would taken you as a blusher, but it actually doesn't look too bad on you. Red's definitely your colour." He states casually, and my eyes widen considerably, as he leans up against the railing beside me. I'm surprised to say the least, and suddenly realise something absolutely unbelievable. Malfoy is being easy-going! I notice his appearance, his unbuttoned shirt, rolled up cuffs, and mussed up hair and realise something else, he is not easy-going, he is unbelievably nervous. My mind does a little jig, and I'm almost tempted to join it, until I see Malfoy staring lazily at me.
"What!" I snap, annoyed suddenly by his manner. "I can't believe you... you..." I can't seem to finish my sentence, and he smirks that God awful smirk.
"You can't believe I what! What Granger? That I kissed you! Believe me, you're not the only one! I had no intention of going anywhere in the relative area of your lips, but annoyingly tempting. In your prissy little uniform and your golden curls," he gives them a flick, as if, even now, they're annoying him, "you're just asking for someone to mindless snog the shit out of you. God you fucking piss-... bloody hell!" I take an uneasy step backwards, and finally notice the rolly that he's got in his fingers. They're shaking with amazing clarity and I reach out and snatch the cigarette away.
My father smokes. Yes, he's a dentist, but that doesn't mean he has to have wonderful teeth as well. I deftly roll the paper around the thin strip of tobacco, lick the tab and press it down. "If you're going to smoke, at least learn how to roll." I mutter as I pass it back to him, and wonder how where I found the confidence.
He raises an eyebrow at me, and there is a particular look in his eye. "You're just full of surprises, Granger." He smirks, and withdraws a thin, green lighter, decorated with silver swirls, from his pocket. Trust a slytherin. He lights it, takes a long drag and then exhales over the balcony, leaning against it as he seems to give me the one over. "What was I, Granger?" he wonders aloud, and I give him a look which passes on my lack of understanding.
"What were you? Um, Ex-nay, on the eanis-nah, but at the present moment I have no idea what the hell you're talking about!" He infuriates me to no end, but at the moment, I can't seem to find my feet and walk away from him. His eyes are amazingly blue I'm noticing right now, and the breeze is blowing his loosened hair across his face in white waves. He could say he was a faery at this moment, and I sure as hell would believe him.
"Your first, your second. No, of course not. That Krum guy, what was his name? Victor, he was probably your first, and Weasley couldn't have missed out on this. So, your third, your fourth?" He raises an eyebrow, and still I'm not quite sure what he's talking about, but there are radars definitely going off in my head. "God Granger! Do I have to spell it out! Your kiss! Who taught you to fucking kiss like that?" His voice is edged like a knife and I stumble back a few steps, my face being consumed by flames even as the wind blows across this small space.
He looks livid, but even angry; I can just make out a faint red blush, which tints his cheeks. So it's not only me, the kiss did something to him as well. I'm relieved for a moment, and pause in my retreat, but quickly back up, banging my back against the wall as he proceeds towards me. "What the hell are you, to look so proper and so perfect when you kiss like some enchantress?" His words are laced with tension, and I suddenly find myself yanked forward, my face raised to meet his. His fingers are laced around my hair like raven's talons, and they pull hard on it, until I'm an inch, perhaps less from him. "Why does something so... so... alluring have to so dirty... so wrong?" And with that, he pulls my hair even harder, painfully hard, and I cry out. But my gasp of pain is cut short, swallowed within his mouth, as he pushes our lips together.
His hold on my hair lessens considerably as his tongue playfully dances against my lips, and it almost feels like a massage. Both my hands are squished up against his chest and I groan as his tongue pushes through my quaking lips and breaks down any control that I might have had, had he not laced his arm around my waist and dragged me closer.
My hand inches away from its imprisonment, as I lose myself in the kiss and slowly I begin to return the licking flames that he's erupting in my mouth. My arm winds its way around his neck and drags him too closer, and I feel that I cannot get enough of this annoying, insulting, devil-impersonating boy.
I stand on my tiptoes, trying to entice more of the fire that's erupting in me, and all of a sudden feel tears dripping down my cheeks. I'm wrapped in a passionate embrace with my worst enemy and all I can think is one thought. How can anger feel so unbelievably hot...
He too notices the tears as well, and as his hold on me loosens even more, the hand around my waist that had been caressing ever so slightly slowing, I can't stop myself from groaning, as I yank myself away. "I... I..." I can't finish my sentence or anything else that's happening in this situation and I touch my lips ever so slightly with my fingers, noticing that his lips are bruised, and wondering if mine mirror that look. He steps forward again, appearing to begin our actions yet again, but all I can do, is slip away and run into my room.
Why is it, that in the last few hours, I've found myself scorched and burned, sitting upon my arse, in some darkened corner, wishing, that it had continued for so much longer, but with another person. I had no hope of catching up now.
The scoreboard was two hundred to Draco, ten to Hermione.
A door slammed and resonated throughout the Head Dorm, and I considered this. Twice I'd turned away from Malfoy's advances, and still he'd come looking for more, if I kept turning him away would this burning ever stop. I slipped my face into my hands and shuddered, what the hell was happening here.