No Stopping

That same night, Hermione was on patrol around the Gryffindor tower. She entered the common room to see it packed with people who seemed to have no intentions of going to sleep anytime soon.

"Hey guys, I suggest you start heading to bed soon," she said.

"Aww, Hermione, aren't you still one of us?" Ginny asked from her seat on a couch.

"Of course. But I still have to enforce the rules as Head Girl."

"Yeah yeah yeah…come sit down."

Hermione complied and sat on the arm of Ginny's chair. "Hey, have you seen either Ron or Harry?"

"They're probably in bed by now. Why?"

"Umm…I'll tell you later, ok?" Hermione stood up and walked off before Ginny could ask any more questions.

Hermione entered the boys' Gryffindor dormitory to find Ron tucking himself into bed, and Harry just emerging from the bathroom. She walked over to Ron's bed and sat down.

"Hermione, you're kind of on my legs…"

"Sorry." She moved over a bit. "Harry, come over here."

Harry walked over and sat down on another bed. "What's up, Hermione?"

"Ok." She looked at them both before she spoke. "Draco told me about what you guys did…I can't believe you!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"Look, Hermione," Ron began, "we know that he's been giving you some trouble lately. And we don't want him to think that he can get away with it. So we told him that if he bothered you again we'd hurt him."

"Which we will. In any case, why didn't you say anything to us? We had to overhear your conversation with Ginny," Harry said.

"Probably to avoid the exact thing that happened." Hermione sighed. "Guys, I think it's noble and all that you're trying to protect me, but I really don't need you to."

"That's what you say, Hermione. But this is Malfoy we're talking about. Who knows what he has up his sleeve?"

"What did he do to you anyway?" Ron asked.

"Nothing, Ron, he's just…very difficult to get along with." Hermione sighed. "But I intend to change that. I don't know why there have been any problems, but I think I'm partly to blame, too. So I'm going to talk to him. Not you guys," she said, standing. "Now I think it's about time for me to get back to my own dorm..."

"Well, ok…" Ron frowned.

"You know, you've got to start hanging out here more," Harry said. "You spending all your time in the same dorm as Malfoy makes me think there's something going on," he joked.

Hermione laughed nervously. "Oh…Of course not. There's just a lot of work to this Head business." She walked over to the entrance. "I'll see you guys later," she said, and left.

There were still plenty of Gryffindors in the common room when Hermione reappeared. She considered telling everyone to go to bed, as it was well past curfew, but decided against it.

"You're leaving now, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah…I'm kind of tired," Hermione replied.

"Well, ok…are you going to stop by anytime this week?"

"I don't know Ginny. I still have a bit of work to do. I'll be free the day of the dance, though."

"Well, then, maybe I can come over and help you get ready. You're going, right?"

"I suppose…"

"Don't look so depressed. I'll come over and dress you up and it'll be fun."

Hermione smiled. "Maybe it will."

"Ok. And we'll talk then?"

"Yeah." Hermione walked over to the portrait and opened it. "I'm going to go now…good night, guys," she said before closing the door behind her.

Hermione walked quickly back to her dormitory. About halfway along the corridor to the portrait she stopped, fancying she heard a noise somewhere off to her left.

"Granger, shouldn't you be inside the dorm by now?"

Hermione turned to see Draco leaning against the wall. "I could say the same for you," she said.

"I'm just coming back from patrol," he said.

"And so am I." Hermione continued down the hall, and Draco followed. "Actually, Draco, I wanted to have a little chat with you…"

"You know, all this talking between us isn't required."

"I know." Hermione stopped and said her password, then they both entered the dorm. Hermione closed the door behind Draco and turned to face him. "I was thinking that maybe we should call a truce."

Draco raised one eyebrow. "Really? A truce? Because we tried that already, and it didn't work too well."

There were many angry thoughts that came to mind when he said that, but Hermione wasn't going to argue the point at that moment. "I know, but I suggest we try again. The entire point of us getting along is so that we can do our Head duties properly, together. And we haven't done that."

Draco rubbed his chin as if contemplating what Hermione just said. "This is true."

"And we still haven't finished putting together everything for the Halloween Dance. I should probably put up a few more posters. And we still need to call the band and confirm that they're coming. I'd really just like to do that without arguing about who was right and who was wrong."

"Uh huh…I can't believe you haven't finished your work on the dance already."

Hermione glared at him. "I've been busy."

"Uh huh…well, I suppose a truce wouldn't be so bad."

"Great."

"Great," he repeated, his eyes still locked on her face, and she gave him a nervous smile. "Well, I'm off to bed now, so, good night…" Hermione spoke the password to the portrait and quickly scampered off to her room. She didn't trust herself alone with Draco anymore. And she trusted him even less. At any second he could pull her into his arms and ravish her. Even worse was her willingness in those situations. She had to admit that he did do amazing things to her body, even though her mind did not consent.

Her mind was the part of her that was supposed to put up the fight, but it insisted on failing her at the exact moments when she needed it. Every time Draco touched her she practically shivered in delight and any semblance of thought flew out the window. And even though she denied it, Hermione had, in retrospect, enjoyed every part of the experience, right down to the fact that for once, her mind wasn't capable of what she wanted it to do.

And yet still the circumstances were too bizarre for her to simply ignore. Draco Malfoy, not being the evil bastard she'd known for the past six years? And her, Hermione Granger, being involved with him? It was ludicrous, impossible. And yet she hoped that maybe it wasn't. Her mind often wandered off in daydreams of herself and Draco locked in a passionate embrace, kissing until they couldn't breathe and never stopping. And if they weren't daydreams then they were memories, and pleasant ones at that. Right up to the point where he'd go too far and the pleasantness would come to a screeching, ugly halt.

Well, then, she would take one of her daydreams to sleep. Selecting her favorite (and curiously, most used) fantasy from her store, Hermione snuggled into bed and promptly fell asleep.

"Hermione in the library. What a surprise."

Hermione looked up into silver eyes, barely suppressing a smile. She'd actually been in daydream mode again, but chose to do so in the library while pretending to read.

"Well," she said, "I do like it here."

"Of course you do. I came to tell you that I've taken care of the last preparations for the dance."

"That's good…"

Draco began to take a seat in the chair opposite her own, and Hermione took this as a sign to check her watch. It was almost closing time. From her limited view over his head of the rest of the library, she could see that most, if not all, of the other students had left. Damn. She'd chosen this secluded area for the purpose of daydreaming in solitude, but now it looked like it had her conveniently stuck in a place where she didn't want to be—alone with Draco. Even if she spent all her time engrossed in thoughts of him, she still had this urge to run away every time he approached her. It was a shame that the fantasy was so grossly different from the reality…

"I think I'm going to head off and do some homework," she said, rising from her seat. She reached for a book on the table and Draco placed his hand on her arms.

"Stay a while, Hermione. You're always running away it seems, every time I try to talk to you. I would think that a truce such as ours requires us to be friends…"

She sank defeated into her chair and removed her hand from his grasp. "I suppose it does."

"So why do you keep running away, Hermione?"

"I'm not."

"Really?" Draco bent forward and placed both his elbows on the table, propping his face up in between them. He said nothing more and watched her eyes.

Hermione tried but failed to break the intense hold his eyes had upon her. "I'm not running at all."

His eyes were rather silver, she noticed. They seemed to be reflecting what little light there was in the steadily darkening room. And they were still fixed on her. Almost disturbing, she thought, and definitely more intense than she'd ever been witness to. And now Hermione had the vague suspicion that he was putting some sort of spell on her, or trying to probe her mind…

"Ok." Draco reached to take the hand that was still lying on the desk, and Hermione flinched. He sighed and did not repeat the action. "Are you afraid of me?" he asked.

"Draco—"

"No, you are." He looked injured. "Why?"

"I'm not scared of you."

"But you flinched when I tried to touch you—do you think I'm going to hurt you or something?"

"Hurt me?" Hermione looked surprised at this question. "Not physically…"

A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. "Physically…"

Hermione didn't need to imagine what he was thinking as the word rolled off his tongue. He said it in such a way that she could practically see the direction in which his thoughts were heading.

"I would never hurt you physically," he thought aloud. "Physically," and now his gaze had returned to her face, "I could do wonderful things to you."

Hermione couldn't help it. She blushed, and only became redder as the intensity of his gaze increased.

"So why not?" he asked.

"You want to know?"

"Yes."

Hermione shifted her eyes in another direction, pretending to think. "Just because I don't think I can trust you. You or your roving libido, and your bunches of personalities too."

He didn't seem much surprised by this revelation. "So what?"

"So what? Draco, I'm not going to snog someone I can't trust."

"You did before."

Her cheeks reddened again at the remembrance of their latest run-in. "I don't plan on doing it again."

"I don't think all that matters. I think," he said, placing his elbows back on the table, "that I will not hurt you, or go farther than you want me to."

"And how can I be sure that you won't try and stick you hands past my knickers again?"

"Right now? Well…" he surveyed the little of the library that he could see, "though I would desperately like to do that, they do like it quiet in the library."

She caught his meaning immediately. "Right…"

Draco leaned forward and placed his face between his hands. "I know you want to kiss me, so just do it."

"And how do you know that?"

"Well, if I tasted half as good as you do, then I would want to kiss me too."

Hermione said nothing.

"Come on, Hermione…" Draco said, then fell silent.

Neither one spoke for a few moments. Hermione was still mesmerized by the positively frightening look in his eyes, as he begged her to do it but still managed to keep himself perfectly still.

And she couldn't resist. She leaned forward to meet him halfway and placed a kiss on her lips. Even if she wanted to pull away, Draco grabbed both of her arms, rising out of his seat and pulling her with him. And then he was standing and climbing over the table, still holding her in his grip, and pushing her back into the seat as he leaped over the scattered books and onto her chair. He took her into his arms and switched their places, positioning her so she faced him. He then proceeded to kiss every spot of her neck, and began running his hands all over her body.

"Draco…" Hermione breathed.

He immediately stopped. "Sorry," he mumbled into her skin. "We can go slower if you like."

"You said you wouldn't do anything I didn't want."

"And I won't. I promise. But you have to trust me, and if I do anything you don't want, you stop me, ok?"

"Ok."

And just like that his mouth went back to work. He kissed her deeply, stroking her hair as he plunged into the depths of her mouth. Hermione tried to match the movements of his tongue, but gave in almost immediately under his control. She sighed in response as he kissed her repeatedly, and then began to slow the frenzied moments of his mouth. He nibbled at her lip as he grabbed her rear end and shifted her again so that she was straddling him on the chair. His hands hungrily roved her body, and finally, his mouth moved away from hers and to her chin, then her forehead and cheeks, then her neck, placing kisses everywhere he touched.

Her legs encircled tightly around his midsection, he lifted her again and laid her onto the floor, placing the whole of his weight atop her. Her legs stayed wrapped around him as his hands were again free to roam. He released her bottom and slowly ran his hands up the side of her body, then over her stomach, and back over the swell of her breasts.

"Do you want me to stop?" he spoke into her ear.

"No."

Well, that was good, he thought as he slowly massaged her breast with his hand. He teased the other, grazing the nipple with his thumb and sighing with pleasure as she rubbed against him.

Draco had been right. It did feel good. And at that moment she considered telling him to forget ever stopping. But no, that probably wasn't the best idea. He whispered again asking her if she wanted to stop, and she shook her head, no, and sighed in pleasure as he recommenced his touches to her body. Pressed this close to him, she could feel a familiar hardness pushing into her stomach, a thing that had scared her in the past. Well, she was still scared, but more importantly, thrilled to no end at the absolute pleasure his arousal gave her. She grinded her body into his, willing him to continue without any more questions. Draco let out his first groan for the exercise, a fact that pleased her even more than his growing excited state.

And then suddenly he was placing her on the floor and was climbing off her. She wondered at why he wasn't pressing against her anymore. Hermione opened her eyes to see Draco trying to work his expression into one that wasn't so expressive of painful desire.

"Draco? What's wrong?"

He was standing, looking down at her, and then he sighed.

"Not you, not you. I just—have to stop myself, Hermione. Before I do something you don't want, ok?" He ran a hand through his hair. "I hope it was as enjoyable for you as it was for me." She didn't respond, and so Draco abruptly turned around and headed down the aisle and out of the library.

Hermione sat on the floor, stunned, for another few moments before she came to her senses and stood up. She quickly gathered her books and left the library, following in his footsteps back to their dorm.

Truth be told, Draco had no desire to stop himself that night. Who cared about noise in the library anyway? And why he'd stopped was not as much of a mystery to him as how. Because he knew why: going even a little too far that night would have guaranteed that he'd never touch her again. But he had to question the sagaciousness of that decision; what, really, was the point?

She'd very obviously been offended, he realized at breakfast the next day. Their eyes had met for a brief second, and in her expression he could see nothing but unadulterated anger; then she'd turned away, and that was that. To top it off, Harry and Ron had picked that same day to begin trailing her like a pair of canine bodyguards—even more demonstrative, it seemed, of her desire to keep him away from her. But they couldn't have possibly known; no, she would never tell them, that much Draco knew, about her experiences with their least favorite Slytherin. Nonetheless they glared at him with a new intensity whenever he walked past them. Hermione, on the other hand, never looked at him; not in class, not at meals, and he never saw her anywhere else. She avoided him like the plague, and in turn, he was careful not to betray that no matter what, his eyes were on her constantly.

So really, he asked himself as he watched her walk out of the Hall, Harry and Ron on either side of her, what had been the point?