Inclination

Chapter Nine

There is a general theory that what makes us who we are, are the connections we have to the people around us. From parents to friends, lovers, companions – they all affect us in different ways. It is from their existence that we derive our own. From them we subconsciously learn how to live. This learning is not simply what is socially right and wrong, but how to know ourselves. The right to individuality is precious…

Just one night, Hermione thought looking up at the ceiling silently. There was something about those words that removed the real consequences of her actions. It implied an offhand approach, as if it didn't matter what had occurred. What those words meant though were excuses.

Just one night – It was a terrible mistake.

Just one night – I'm sorry I hurt you.

Just one night – It meant nothing to me.

Just one night – Please don't leave me.

Just one night – You're the one I love…

Hermione closed eyes tight and took a steadying breath. This was not what she wanted to feel. Her insides were knotted in uncomfortable dread, making her throat ache from the hysteria she was trying to keep at bay. What had she done?

The answer to that question was simple enough and if she thought about it logically it didn't hurt too much. Hermione Granger (it helped further to think it in the third person) had committed an act of adultery. It was physical, impulsive and oblique. It was everything about herself she hated.

Another deep breath to steady the nerves that were beginning to shake her from the fantasy. She had learnt from a young age that trying to ignore the obvious was damaging in many ways. Denial, it would appear, could kill. Maybe not your body, but your soul – if you believed there was such a thing, which was debatable in this case. If Hermione did have a soul, then surely she wouldn't have cheated on the man she knew she loved?

There had been no doubt in Hermione's head that she loved Oliver. She liked the way he was completely dedicated to her. It was as if she had her own genie or fairy godmother. That one special person who would make sure her life was the fairytale she wanted. A fairytale was all it was though because when it came to reality, Hermione had a problem convincing her heart that Oliver was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

Of course there were the perks. Oliver was successful, good looking, kind, generous… He was everything she'd look for in a man. Perfection was the closest word she could think of that matched her relationship with him. If they were ever to marry she knew that he would look after her to the end of the earth. With him she would be paramount. Special. Unique. Wanted. Wasn't that what every woman wanted from her partner?

Passion, she thought with the slightest of smiles. That was the vital ingredient that was missing. There was nothing wrong with the sex but it lacked that spark she had with Draco. Oliver never argued with her. He never pushed her to her limits, making her feel emotions in such an extreme that she clung to it for dear life. When she was with him she felt bland. Her flesh felt almost dead without feeling. Nothing seemed to excite her. Everything was…nice.

It was a terrible word to use.

'Just one night,' she whispered softly.

That one night had changed everything for Hermione. It had been the night that she had lost her certainty in herself. If she could betray Oliver then it could be possible that her heart was betraying her.

Draco had led her upstairs, gripping her hand so tight that it hurt. Her fingers had been crushed together in his hand as if mere flesh were not enough to prevent his desire. That had been the moment when she'd remembered just how explosive Draco really was. His cool exterior betrayed the hot headed emotions that boiled up within him. Not that she had complained. The pain had been a feeling – it had awoken her senses.

He had been moving so quickly…she couldn't remember if they were running or not, but she remembered her heart racing. Everything she was feeling seemed to reach such a degree of clarity that it was too vivid to seem real. And it was the details of her own journey that blocked out the rest.

It was difficult to put into words, that feeling like you're betraying yourself – becoming a fool in the eyes of your equally foolish partner. The feeling that giving in made you too easy a conquest and that it was unacceptable. The feeling that you are over analysing everything and adding in the negative so you don't feel happy. Yes, that desire to be miserable because you should…

In reality it felt like being caught out in the rain without an umbrella. Obviously this was not to be taken literally, but romantically. Hermione had been able to feel everything. There had been a grin on her face that nothing could have torn away. Like the rain it hadn't been constant, but different and fast moving. Every drop had its own individual presence, but collectively they were one.

It was like drinking cold lemonade when you're sat out in the heat. Chilling, relieving, delightfully tasty – making her feel dizzy with the overwhelming conflictions between her body and her mind.

It was as satisfying as popping bubble wrap.

As beautiful as lying on your back in the long grass and staring up at the stars.

Powerful as…

Rolling on her side, Hermione allowed herself to gaze out the window. She desperately wanted to forget what had happened. If she forgot all about it then she could go on as usual. There would be no heart stopping gazes in the corridor, shattering guilt, lies, wanting something she wasn't allowed. It had happened before and she remembered the fear. Those where the days when she hadn't been herself.

Draco had been so demanding. Having practically broken her delicate hand, he held it to his lips and kissed it lightly. An apology had been issued, but no words were needed. They had both known that if they'd spoken the spell would have been broken. Neither one of them wanted to give up their last chance.

It had been magical the way he had read her mind, following her every thought to the letter. If she wanted to be kissed, she didn't have to ask.

The kissing had been what she'd missed the most when they'd broken up all those months ago. It was human contact, a sign that she was unique and special. She remembered it had been difficult to not feel unwanted in the face of its loss. All she'd wanted to have was someone who would treasure her.

Wasn't that what she had with Oliver?

'Did you sleep alright?' a soft voice came from behind her.

The sex had been amazing. There had been a bit of awkwardness at the beginning. He had unpeeled her clothing as if she was a Christmas present, and she had stood dumbly. It was beautiful watching him concentrate on her so utterly. Then he had kissed her from top to toe, taking care not to miss an inch of skin. Later she had realised that he was trying to map her out. That way he couldn't forget how she looked when she was his.

When it came to undressing him, she had slowly unbuttoned, disrobed, and discarded all his clothing. They had stood before one another naked. Bare, exposed, unclad, unclothed, unconcealed and undisguised. None of the words could do justice to how it had felt to be totally…complete.

Fragments ambushed her as she lay in bed. She had recollections of biting his shoulder, him raking his fingers down her back. There had been blood on the sheets – she couldn't remember who it belonged to. She had stubbed her toe on the heavy wooden leg of the bed. Draco had kissed it better. All the time there had been a smile on her face. He had groaned her name over and over again. "I love you."

Had she responded alike?

An arm slipped round her waist and the scent of masculinity filled her nostrils. Her back became warm with the heat of such close proximity. A shiver ran through her body, slow and deliberate.

'You seem very quiet this morning,' the voice continued softly. 'I thought you liked surprises.'

'I do,' she whispered blankly. Her eyes remained fixed on outside the window.

'I know this sounds really needy…' he paused and she could feel him reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose. 'Let me try again. Last night I put myself on the line…did you not…I mean…'

'I'm just feeling tired.'

'Oh right…'

'Last night wasn't what I had expected. It wasn't the early night with a cup of coco and a good book I had anticipated…' Hermione closed her eyes. 'It was all a bit overwhelming.'

'You sound disappointed that it wasn't how you expected,' the voice teased gently in her ear. 'And here was me thinking I was much better then a good book. I mean it's not every day that…'

'I know,' she interrupted quickly.

Silence hung in the air. 'Well someone's obviously not in a good mood.'

Hermione turned over and looked at her companion. Her heart ached for a split second and began to race. Suddenly she felt like crying. His eyes were so soft and gentle, urging her to take him in her arms. It would be too simple though. Nothing could take away the taste she had got for Draco Malfoy.

'I'm sorry Oliver,' she said, brushing her fingers against his cheek and lightly kissing his forehead. 'I don't mean to be in a bad mood. It's just that I'm hormonal and…still in shock about the…the…'

'The fact I asked you to marry me?' Oliver said grinning like a fool.

'Yes, that.' Mentally Hermione gulped. She didn't have the conscience to say it out loud.

'I've been planning it for months,' Oliver began enthusiastically. 'I spoke to Dumbledore and he set up a portkey for me. He seemed very happy that I was finally going to make an honest woman of you.'

Honest woman, she thought cynically. If only he knew what she'd been doing last night – shagging her ex boyfriend whilst her current one sat waiting for her, ring in hand. There was something incredibly funny about the whole situation. It made her adultery worse.

'I didn't expect you to be so long though!' he laughed nervously. 'I was so anxious that I almost went home again. The waiting was killing me! Not that you're not worth it. I'd wait for you until the ends of the earth.'

Poor romantic fool. She couldn't help but pity his ignorance. Maybe it was Draco's influence. They were just words though. What she had felt last night had affected her so much that she was finding it hard to concentrate on anything else.

'That's why I don't mind how long you take to answer. You can answer when you're old and grey if it suits you… Hey, just imagine us when we're old and grey! We can take long walks with our five dogs. Eat fish and chips until we feel sick. Keep each other warm when it's cold. We won't need anything but each other.'

The problem was not only that Hermione had cheated on mere hours ago, but that she doubted whether she still loved him. She couldn't see them as an old couple holding hands and being still in love after 70 odd years. She couldn't even see them together in a year's time. The lie would eat her up inside.

'Oliver…' she said wanting to tell him everything.

'Yes?'

'Hermione?' Draco whispered against her shoulder. 'I think you've been very, very naughty.'

Hermione giggled like a child and batted him with her hand. 'Shut your face Malfoy. I'm as good as gold.'

He pointed to the bite mark on his shoulder. 'You've damaged my perfect skin,' he growled. 'And now you owe me.' His hand slipped over her stomach, going lower and making her heart race.

'Aren't you tired?! I mean that was pretty…'

Leaning over he silenced her with a kiss. 'I could never get tired of shagging you senseless.'

'I was not senseless!'

'Want to bet?'

'Nothing,' she said with a forced smile. 'I was just thinking.'

'About?'

'It wouldn't interest you…'

Hermione pushed herself up from the bed and stretched. Standing slowly, she walked over to her dressing table and started aimlessly brushing her hair, not taking her eyes off her own reflection. She didn't understand how she had the guts to lie in the same bed as the man she had just cheated on. She didn't understand how she could face herself…and yet the world was still turning. It all seemed so surreal.

After her and Draco had become too tired to move, she had suggested that she would have to go back to her own room. He had commanded that she stay in his room until the whole night was over, otherwise she was chickening out. Basically he baited her into anger, and laughed when she reacted. With her face flushed and her body sore, she had slowly dressed herself. It was Christmas after all and she didn't want to miss all the presents. Or at least that's what she told herself. The real reason was that she knew she wouldn't be able to ever leave if she didn't know. Draco was dangerous in many ways.

Then when she'd returned to her room, after a long goodbye, she found Oliver sitting on the edge of her bed. She had been unable to hide her shock. Even when he rushed over to her and dropped to one knee, she had been almost unable to breath. All she'd been able to do was think about what she had done.

'When will I see you again?'

'What happened to "just one night"?' Hermione demanded, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. 'This is a one off Draco. Nothing more.'

'We both know you're lying. You can't keep your hands off me for more then a couple of weeks. I think we've proven that here.' Draco was leaning on one elbow, sprawled naked on the bed, his long blonde hair looking dishevelled. 'I'm irresistible.'

'You are an arrogant pig,' she said primly.

'True, but when will I see you again?'

'Stop it!' she beseeched. 'This is not going to happen again! I'm with Oliver and that's the way it's going to stay.'

'I don't know if I can share you with another man.'

'I'm so happy,' Oliver muttered throwing himself into the pillows behind him. 'I must be the luckiest man on the planet.'

A tear slowly cascaded down Hermione's cheek.

…but how much will you sacrifice to remain an individual? Love changes everything. It changes how you see the world. Utterly painful and completely dreamy, love is the thing that makes us conform. It is the force that makes us act like fools. All you need is love…?