Disclaimer: No, I DO own Harry Potter. How does that grab ya?
Author's Note: Another thanks to my reviewers! I am afraid I am not going to thank you quite so eloquently as I had in the chapters before, but that is because, if you haven't noticed, I don't like repeating myself. I do feel very very genuinely thankful to all of you for reading though.
Okay, for completely off-topic news- I am in my new house!!! No more boxes, I'm free! So, I am now in my matchbox of a room, at my computer which is a comfortable two inches from my bed, bookshelf, and TV, leaving exactly one square-foot of standing space... but still, I'm happy.
Chapter 7: Hero and Leander- Strange, No?
Being in Harry's room brought a bittersweet avalanche of old memories to Hermione. She sorted through his chest and saw the small box that held the engagement ring he had given her; along with an old planner she had given him fifth year. She sat upon his bed, recalling the few weeks before her departure that they had spent together every night, sleeping in the other's arms. She felt a pang of guilt as she recalled that she had done the same with Draco Malfoy just last night.
She enjoyed Harry's company; he was her best friend and always had been. When he had proposed she remembered the thought that she would always have that relationship- that friendship would sail her through life and she would have no other worries. And for that simple fact she loved him- she loved him just as she loved Ron- as a dear and cherished friend. Perhaps the distance between them lately was what was keeping her from seeing the romantic aspect of her relationship with Harry. Perhaps not.
Eventually, after fishing fruitlessly through his chest, she rolled on to his bed in frustration, laying her head against a silky substance that seemed more like soft liquid then real fabric. Turning, she saw, emerging from under his pillow, a corner of the incandescent invisibility cloak.
Squealing with glee, she pulled the cloak out and wrapped it tightly around herself, shuddering in satisfaction at her achievement, then, noticing the time she panicked quickly and made her way back down the stairs, into the Common Room and out the portrait hole to find Draco in Ancient Cultures.
"I didn't even know they had an Ancient Cultures class," Hermione whispered, following Draco closely until they entered his room, in which Hermione removed the invisibility cloak graciously.
"It's a new edition this year. Apparently this guy came to Dumbledore and basically said, 'hey, I have a key to the past, you want it?' and Dumbledore said yes."
"Really?" she asked sarcastically.
"Basically."
"So, you're on ancient Greece at the moment?" she asked as she sorted through his homework, looking for anything interesting.
"We've been on ancient Greece from the beginning. I think I know more about Sparta then anyone could possibly need to know."
"Have you gotten to the mythology?" Hermione asked nonchalantly, still half of her attention on Draco's papers. "They're the best part of antiquity."
"We've looked over a few, and they've come up, but we haven't spent much time on them specifically," he had by now removed his robes and was lying on the couch, his feet propped up on the arm, gazing at Hermione intently. "Not that it matters, I've studied enough mythology on my own time to fill the head of any great historian."
"Really?" she suddenly seemed interested.
"Oh yeah," he said casually, "Especially throughout my fifth and sixth years I became really interested."
"I've always loved myths, especially Greek, but I could suck up any kind."
"Oh yeah? What's your favorite?"
"My favorite myth?" she asked, surprised by the sudden request. She wrinkled her face in thought before answering. "Well, the Odyssey, if you count it as one big myth is incredible. Other than that, I always love the story of Persephone- how she lives half the year in darkness, half the year in light. She gains control of so much by mere chance, you know? I mean, she controls the weather and Earth through her mother and she controls the underworld through her husband. She's one of the most powerful but overlooked figures in all of mythology."
"Wow," he said, "it's not like it was a test. I was just curious."
"Sorry," she blushed slightly at her analytical answer. "So," she looked back to him, still lying on the sofa, "what's your favorite myth?"
"You want an answer of the same caliber?"
"A little," she said, sitting on the pool table, "to make me less embarrassed if anything."
"Hero and Leander."
"You mean you've thought of this before?" she asked incredulously.
"Ever since I read it it's been my favorite."
She just stared at him, her eyebrow raised nearly into her hair.
"It's so tragic," he explained, raising himself to a sitting position. "I mean, there's no real deeper level than that- just it's pure tragedy and yet, lighthearted at the same time. It tells like a good book, you know? Here they are, two lovers, who don't just stand around moping because they can't be together- they take action; they make it work until the only thing that stands in their way is death."
"Isn't it kind of sissy?" she asked, after he seemed finished.
"A little," he acquiesced, shrugging it off. Then he stood and made his way towards her. "But, no matter who you are, whether you're the biggest, baddest guy around, you can't deny the feeling of a broken heart, whether it's your heart, or one you're witnessing."
His hands were on either side of Hermione, still sitting atop the pool table, and he leaned in to kiss her gently on the lips.
"Draco Malfoy," Hermione sighed, pulling away from him, "are you trying to seduce me?"
"Only a little," he said as he kissed her again.
His lips tingled at the touch and upon impact Hermione could feel the electricity pulsing through her body. As his lips and tongue mingled with hers, she wrapped her legs around his body, pulling him closer and closer into her. His hands felt smooth, practically liquid against her bare legs as he reached up into her shorts, kneading the skin with his fingers.
The light was dim in the room and Hermione could make out Draco's features, radiant in the shadows, every muscle and bone curved and perfected. His cheekbones arched perfectly on his statuesque face as she watched his face a mere inch from hers as he kissed her. Desire ran throughout Hermione's body like lightning and, as her breath hastened, she reached down to pull his tight turtle neck over his head, exposing his chiseled chest and arms- glowing like marble in the darkness.
Hermione backed up on the pool table, beckoning him with her eyes. He crawled atop it gracefully, straddling her with his hips as she lowered herself on to her back. His fingers undid the buttons on her blouse smoothly, rhythmically, and within moments the shirt was discarded on the ground. His fingers ran from her hips up her sides, gliding over the indents of her ribs until they cupped the sides of her bra, sending a tingling sensation down Hermione's spine.
Hermione bent forward, filling Draco's lips with hers as she led his willing fingers to her back to unclasp her bra. He did so swiftly and was soon bent, covering her fresh breasts with soft, gentle kisses before sucking in, hungry and ravenous. Hermione moaned and leaned up into him, grinding her hips into his, the feel of him sending her into a craze.
Draco reached his hand out to the sides of the pool table, finding the chalk presently. He dipped his fingers into the chalk, a dark blue shining in the darkness. He lifted his hand to her throat, which he ran the chalk down, making a clean line to her naval. It looked to him like an Amazon marking- vicious and brave. He dipped his fingers in once more and made wide marks across her stomach, circling her belly button slowly. She reached for the chalk in his hand and, covering her fingers thickly in it, reached for his face to make four streaks on either cheek. They were the markings of a warrior and the image took her breath away.
They went on marking each other, him painting her breasts and shoulders with delicate lines, her drawing intricate markings across his chest and down his back. They enjoyed each other's body artfully, claiming it as their own before consuming each other in a passionate embrace. He slipped his hands into the elastic of her shorts and smoothly removed them before leading her hands to his own pants. She undid the button and slid the zipper down, shaking in anticipation as she felt him beneath her hands. And it was at that moment that the unthinkable happened. A knock came at the door.
End Note: I know this chapter was unbearably shorter than the others, but I really couldn't pass up ending at a cliffhanger like that. Also, I apologize that the only real thing that happened in this chapter was sex, though not actual sex... anyway, you know what I mean. I usually dislike it when authors put in a ton of sex and no plot, and that's exactly what I just did. Apologies all around! My dad just got back from Canada because we may be moving there. I'm excited and happy he's back. They (or you, if you're Canadian) have cute money. I like the little pictures, like the one with the little boys playing hockey. It's just plain cute.