Recap: "NO GET OFF, GET OFF, I WANT YOU AWAY FROM ME! PLEASE!" However, he didn't retreat. He couldn't, not even if he had wanted to. He had to admit, there was a certain…appeal to pinning the girl to the wall with his body, a very sexual appeal. But that was neither here nor there. His priority was to stop her thrashing and her screaming: surely it would wake the castle?
So he did the first thing that came to mind. He kissed her.
XXX
Disclaimer: You know, if I was rolling in the money I made from publishing/writing these wonderful Harry Potter books... I don't think I'd be sitting here writing a fanfiction with the ship of D/Hr. sigh I own nothing. Everything is JKR's, although I do own the plot. )
Warning: Language.
Chapter Eight: The AftermathIt did indeed, quiet the distressed girl. Claiming her mouth with his own, he had succeeded in stopping her screams, but she continued to thrash her body around every which way, more intensely since he had placed his lips on hers. And there they remained still, his lips pressing against hers, and she tried to scream, but only managed a small squeak against his mouth.
At her attempted yell, Draco slowly slipped his tongue into her mouth, trying to silence her even more. He wasn't ready for the bolt of electricity that shot through him, feeling like it singed every nerve ending in his body. He had never experienced this kind of sensation before, and quite honestly, he liked it. But with a mudblood? With Granger?
He continued to explore the cavern of her mouth, and was pleased beyond belief when she finally stopped moving about so theatrically, and subdued to his ministrations, kissing him back. It was surprising, yes, but incredibly pleasant. She tasted like an intoxicating new alcohol, only ever sampled by him.
Thinking he had succeeded in his mission to stop her tantrum, he pulled back, breathing a bit more heavily than normal, and stared at her. Hermione smiled and stepped toward him, but it immediately turned into a frown and she hauled off and slapped him — the sorry bastard that he was, in her opinion.
"How dare you!" she breathed, and then she fled from the corridor towards their dormitories.
For the second time in his years at Hogwarts, he had been hit by Granger. Raising a hand to his cheek, he gently skimmed the tips of his fingers over the tender skin that Hermione had left blazing red. Just that feather light touch had him taking in a sharp breath of pain.
After another couple of minutes standing there, Draco turned on his heel and headed the way Hermione had just fled.
What had he just done? Had he actually kissed that filthy mudblood? Had he tainted his lips with hers? How stupid could he have been? I've disgraced my family, he thought moodily. Father will never accept this, even if my actions weren't out of any emotional instincts… That's it then, isn't it? I didn't kiss her because I have feelings for her… it was a way to shut her up effectively. Father could understand that, couldn't he? He's a rational man, himself, being the Dark Lord's right hand man, after all. And he, himself, was supposed to follow in his father's footsteps, to become a Death Eater, and the Dark Lord's most trusted advisor.
This wasn't supposed to happen, dammit! That kiss was not supposed to happen, that dream wasn't supposed to happen. NONE OF THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE TAKEN PLACE! He shouldn't even see Granger as part of the female/male relationship scheme of things. She had dirty blood, he knew that, knew it and yet he couldn't shake the feeling of yearning in the pit of his stomach, the yearning he knew was entirely primal and animalistic.
Draco kept fighting himself until he came to the stretch of stone wall that hid his and Hermione's common room and bedrooms. Rhianna materialized out of the stone and purred "Password?"
"Television," he muttered, and stepped through to the room beyond almost immediately. He was too exhausted to think anymore, and all he wanted was a hot shower and to collapse into bed. Upon entering his bedroom, he heard the water running through the door and groaned in frustration: she had even stripped him of a shower before bed. Sighing, he undressed until he was just in his boxers and fell haphazardly onto his bed; he was asleep in five minutes.
XXX
Meanwhile in the shower, the internal conflict within Hermione was raging. Why had that kiss affected her so? This was Malfoy. Not Harry, not Krum. But Malfoy. The jolt of longing that had swept up and down her spine as he had cornered her up against the wall was unexpected. She thought it was just lust, but when his lips had met her own, she knew she was lost. She may not like what he stood for, but she knew that that one little kiss had thrown her over the edge and she wasn't coming back up.
The water was hot as it streamed over her hair and down her back. She wanted her mind to go numb; she didn't want to think about the butterflies that would start whenever they were together, or the shy glances at him during classes or any of the other things that came with wanting someone like she now wanted Malfoy. Oh God, she wanted him. She actually wanted him.
Lathering her hair in fragrant shampoo, she let her thoughts topple over one another.
Maybe this was another episode like the one she'd had with Harry. Maybe she only thought she was falling for Malfoy. Maybe she was attracted to the image of a bad boy now, because she had spent so much time with Harry and Ron, accompanying them on so many heroic adventures; yes that had to be it. Hermione Granger was a good girl through and through — this attraction to Draco Malfoy was simply a phase. It had to be. She was too clever, too smart to fall for a Slytherin. Not to mention she was one hundred percent sure that Malfoy would follow in his father's footsteps and become a Death Eater, to have that foul mark burned into the flesh of his left forearm.
No. She couldn't — wouldn't — let that happen.
The water that was still running dependably upon her head now ran cold, incredibly cold. For this to have happened, she had to have been in the shower for two hours, at least. Freezing, she turned off the water and wrapped one of the nearby towels tightly around her body, which was glimmering with water droplets.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she scrutinized every inch of her form. About five foot four inches, she guessed; the small swell of her breasts had increased a bit over the duration of summer and she was pleased that she now had some woman-hood, although she found the rest of her body very disproportionate.
Overall, she didn't like how she looked. The only thing she truly thought beautiful of herself were her eyes, large and honey brown. There was something about them that intrigued her. The flicker of intelligence was a large part of that, but there was something underlying that glow. Sadness, perhaps? Weariness? It hadn't been there before that summer. Before her father…
She used to think herself okay looking, but her father had destroyed that little bit of confidence she'd had in her appearance. He'd completely shattered it into millions of pieces with every time he violated her, which were many. Not just in her room, and the kitchen, but also in her parents' own bed, the floor, the shower… Anywhere that he could get to her.
He terrified her now beyond belief, to the point where she never wanted to see his face again, never have to hear him coo in her ear…
Hermione slid down the wall, tears silently racing down her cheeks. She shook with suppressed sobs and soon fell asleep right there, sitting against the white tile of the bathroom, covered by nothing but a navy blue towel, tears sliding down her cheeks.
XXX
Everyone gets them — you know, the get-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-to-use-the-potty urges. And on this particular night, Draco had to go.
Stumbling out of bed in the grogginess of sleep, Draco made his way to the adjoining bathroom directly in front of his four-poster bed. He didn't notice the light seeping from the bit of space on all sides of the door, and was momentarily blinded upon opening it. His vision cleared a bit and he went to do his business, still stuck in that semi-conscious state, not picking up on the pile of hair and towel lying at the base of the shower.
The bathroom was spacious, as it included a Jacuzzi jet tub in white marble, a shower with eight shower heads, plus a very large commode and a counter that housed four sinks. The two people were at opposite ends of the bathroom, so it was only natural that Draco hadn't noticed her. Upon turning around, however, he spotted the passed out Hermione, lying in a heap.
Instantly alarmed, he rushed to her side, assuming she had slipped and hit her head on the floor. But after further inspection of her head, Draco realized she was only sleeping, her face streaked with dried tears.
But why was she sleeping in the bathroom, of all places, crying, and in nothing but a towel (he had refrained from succumbing to the temptation of taking a peek underneath it)? Gently, so as not to wake her, Draco picked up her sleeping form and carried her into her room and laid her on the bed. A gleam of gold caught his eye and turning his head, he saw a black book with Hermione's name imprinted on the cover.
Flipping open the cover, he saw it was a gift from her parents, a diary. Setting it back upon the nightstand, Draco wrote Hermione a note, then took one last look at her before he retired to his own bed.
XXX
The next morning, Hermione found Draco's note on her still towel-covered belly. Unfolding it, she read:
Granger,
I'm sure you don't remember at the moment, but last night you fell asleep in the bathroom. I found you (obviously) and carried you to bed. I did not peek under your towel, as I'm sure you're thinking I did. If you do not believe me, I'll gladly take someveritaserum to ease your mind. I don't get off on taking advantage of unconscious women. I don't advise the bathroom as a sleeping place, either. Please don't make a habit of it. It's most uncomfortable to stumble upon an almost naked girl in a bathroom. And I also think we should talk about what occurred last night on patrol. In the morning, preferably. I'd like to go to classes with this problem resolved so I can focus my attention on the work. See you in the morning, Granger.
Malfoy
Looking down, Hermione was surprised that she believed him when he said he hadn't lifted the towel to rake his eyes over her naked body. As surprising as that was, she was even more surprised that Malfoy hadn't done it. He hadn't been one to give off vibes of morality, especially toward her.
Maybe he isn't a ruthless bastard, Hermione thought, as she began to dress herself for the day. Maybe he does have a soft side underneath his cruel façade. After a quick glance in the mirror, Hermione went in search of the Slytherin.
She found him in the common room, a book propped open on his lap. Hearing her footsteps, he marked his page and set the volume aside, then turned to face her.
Her entire facial expression was one of nervousness, and it reminded him of a five year old about to have his first ride on a toy broomstick. The thought amused him, and a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, but he quickly restrained the impulse, and Hermione began to edge her way timidly over to the couch on which he sat.
"Malfoy," she said calmly; this was quite a feat, seeing as her stomach was tying itself in knots with every step she took toward him. She knew he wanted to talk about the kiss, to tell her it meant absolutely nothing and that it was something impulsive, that he'd gone temporarily insane and if he'd been right in the head, he never would have kissed the likes of her, a mudblood. But all the same, deep down, she really wanted to hear him say it was the best kiss of his life and all he wanted to do was sit with her on that very couch, in front of a crackling fire, and snog her until they were both breathless, and then begin again. But she knew that wasn't going to happen. It never would. Get over it, Granger she told herself firmly.
"Granger," Draco replied even more coolly. As Hermione took a seat beside him — even though she made sure she was as far from him as possible —, he noticed the anxiety playing in her eyes, the taut line of her lips. She was bracing herself, he realized, delighted with his effect on her. But for what, exactly? She knew better than to think he'd proclaim any fire that may have sparked between them the previous night.
After a deep breath, Hermione started, "So. I'm here Malfoy. Let's talk." She seemed indifferent to the whole thing, businesslike, if you will. If she wanted to work it that way, then so would he.
"Well. Let me just say I deserved to be slapped. I was out of line, and I know it. But just know I'm not normally like that. I've never been forceful with a woman in my life. And I don't intend to start. And kissing you was the only thing that came to mind when I realized you would wake the whole castle if I didn't shut you up. Believe me, there was no emotion involved."
Hermione's heart sank. It was just as she'd expected, but that didn't stop it from hurting. Resignedly, she lifted her chin. "You thought I felt something? Hah! Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. I felt nothing. Really, you're too conceited for your own good." A moment of silence ensued, and Hermione finally whispered, "Thanks, Malfoy."
It surprised him after her challenge of his being too egotistical, especially since he didn't know what the thanks was for. "For what, Granger?"
"For putting me to bed last night. I… I guess I was just a little more tired than I thought. I just wanted to say thank you. And, uhm, I believe you. About the… the erm, not peeking thing."
A blush was borne high on her cheekbones as she stood up. "Well, I better get to class. See you later tonight, Malfoy." Without a backward glance, she left the room, hair flowing gracefully behind her.
And Draco was once again, left speechless.
XXX
Dear Diary,
I know it's wrong. I know it, and yet I can't help but want it with everything that I am.
The past few days have been… incredibly peaceful between us. It's as if all the enmity that used to exist never was, and it's a budding friendship just realized. We don't argue as much, and he hasn't called me a mudblood for over a week now. I may just be a hopeless romantic, but maybe being around me is changing him for the better. Oh, if only it were so! It'd be an amazing thing if I had such an impact on him, that he turned away from Voldemort and joined the side of the light. He'd be a wonderful asset to the Order. I can feel it.
We're even working on homework together. And believe it or not, we've been helping each other when we don't understand something. Can you believe it? I never thought that I'd ever have a real conversation with him, and yet now we're study buddies. How ironic.
The more I get to know him, the more his intellect appeals to me, and thatfeeling I've had since the night in the corridor when he kissed me has only grown. There's hardly an hour that I don't think of him anymore. To be honest, I'm scared beyond belief. I've never felt this for anyone but Harry. And that proved to be a mistake, completely wrong. What if this between us is entirely the same? What if he doesn't see me as I see him? Not only a smart individual, but also someone I could learn to love? That I may already love…
I don't like thinking about it, but I can confide in you. You won't betray my trust as people can. I can pour my heart and soul to you and you'll never criticize my opinions.
But I can criticize myself, and I don't want to fall for him. I don't want to be hurt. I'm afraid of my heart breaking. And I think it might be a mistake if I let myself want him, if I let myself need him. I certainly don't want to become dependent on him, in any way shape or form. I won't let myself. I can't afford to fall into that abyss of emotions. I won't let myself fall any further than I already have for Draco Malfoy.
XXX
It was a month into school and Hermione still had yet to have Harry and Ron visit her in her new living accommodations. She had been back to the Gryffindor common room numerous times, not only to visit Harry and Ron, but also Ginny and other acquaintances.
On one of these visits, Hermione learned that Ginny and Dean were having relationship troubles. It didn't surprise her. Dean was a very jealous person, and only became more so when it came to his girlfriends. If he spotted Ginny even speaking to Harry, or any other boy for that matter, he'd instantly pull her aside and interrogate her about her intentions with the boy in question. If she was interested the guy, if she was cheating. Being exactly like her mother in some areas of her disposition, Ginny didn't appreciate being questioned like this and flared up, yelling at her boyfriend, causing a scene.
It was heaven for Parvati and Lavender, who were the gossip queens of Gryffindor house. Anything you wanted to know, just ask those two.
And upon entering the common room one evening after dinner, Parvati and Lavender rushed up to her. "Did you hear?" they asked excitedly.
"Hear what?" Hermione asked, curious.
"Ginny and Dean had a row! The biggest one yet! And boy… it's not very pretty. Ginny used her bat bogey hex on him, and you know what he did?" Lavender was quivering, she was so excited.
Stifling a giggle because this trembling reminded her of a Chihuahua, Hermione asked, "What did Dean do?"
With a significant look at each other, Parvati answered, "He hexed her back!" Hermione gasped. Whether in the muggle or wizarding world, men didn't hit women, be it their hands or magic flowing from their wands. Dean had always seemed like a gentleman to Hermione and this completely shocked her.
"What hex did he use?" she asked. Oh, Lord, I'm starting to sound just like them, she thought. But she couldn't help it, she was curious.
"I'm not sure, but it hit her cheek and it's a lump the size of a golf ball and its all nasty, green and purple like." Lavender looked like she was going to retch at the memory of it.
Worried, Hermione asked, "Where is she?" Lavender and Parvati pointed to an overstuffed couch by the fire simultaneously, where a group of people surrounded it. Rushing over, Hermione pulled out her wand.
"Stand aside, let me look at her. Excuse me." She pushed her way through, and Ginny looked better than expected after Lavender and Parvati's descriptions. The lump was barely noticeable, and it wasn't green and purple. A bit bruised perhaps, but nothing too serious.
"Ginny, are you alright?" Hermione asked. After all, Ginny was her best female friend at Hogwarts and her safety was very important.
"Yes, I'm fine 'Mione. It's just a scratch, really." That's all it seemed to be.
"Where's Dean?" Hermione asked the people at large.
"He ran up to his dormitory!" someone yelled.
"I'll be right back," Hermione promised. Ginny nodded, and so Hermione left for the staircase to the boys' rooms. She found Dean on his bed, looking extremely forlorn and upset.
"Hmph," Hermione said disgustedly as she stood in front of Dean's bed, staring at him with venom in her eyes.
Looking up at her, Dean explained himself. "I didn't mean too, Hermione. Honest! When I saw her point her wand at me, I…I panicked! It was the first spell in my mind. If I could take it back I would, I feel awful! I never hit girls! Never, ever, ever…"
"Did she dump you, yet?" Hermione asked scathingly.
"What! No! She never said anything about breaking up with me! Oh, God, I really screwed things up, I need to talk to her! I need to apologize, I need to — "
"What you need to do, Dean, is stay away from her. She doesn't need to see any more of you at the moment. She has to tend to her injuries. If I hear you're pestering her, it's detention. I mean it Dean. You stay the hell away from her."
"But, Hermione! She's going to dump me, I need to talk to her!"
"You don't need to do anything but what I told you, Dean. She may or may not dump you. She hasn't said a thing to me, but then again I only just got here. But like I said, stay away from her. If she doesn't break it off with you, I'll be thoroughly surprised." With one last glance up and down his face she spat, "Pitiful," and walked out of the room.
"Come on, Ginny. I want Madam Pomfrey to take a look at it. Just to be on the safe side." With a warm smile, she coaxed Ginny up out of the couch and led her to the hospital wing.
XXX
Ron was furious. How dare Dean do that, to his sister. Oh, was he gonna get it when he saw him. Ron was going to rip him limb from limb. He always knew that Dean wasn't good enough for his baby sister. He never was and never would be. If Ginny didn't break it off, Ron would sure as hell do that, and maybe break off something else in the process, something Dean would miss very, very, much.
The thought made Ron smile. Finally, someone to take his heartache and aggression out on. He still hadn't gotten over the hurt that had been inside him since the train ride to Hogwarts. He may not ever get over it. He'd never been so depressed in his life, not even when he was doing horrible at quidditch, wanting to resign. No, this was much, much, worse.
And Dean was the perfect target to aim all of his hurt at. "WHERE IS THE FUCKING BASTARD!" Ron screamed as he entered the Gryffindor common room. A few people jumped at the volume with which Ron was yelling. But simultaneously, everyone looked to the boys' dormitories.
Without another word, Ron ran up the stairs and out of sight.
XXX
Hermione was on her way back from dropping Ginny off at the hospital wing and was almost back to her own room, thinking longingly of a hot bubble bath in the Jacuzzi tub, when someone pulled her into a dark, unused corridor.
A hand clamped over her mouth and she was facing away from her captor. As he began to force her forward with the weight of his body, he whispered in her ear: "Not a peep, Granger. Not. A. Peep." Hermione nodded in understanding and continued to walk forward, fear exploding into her mind. Who was doing this to her? She hadn't recognized the voice that had spoken. It had been deep and gruff and entirely new to her. The hand that was covering her mouth was tan, a bit calloused, most likely from playing quidditch.
What was happening to her? Where was he taking her?
Only one possible situation occurred to her, and it was the one she wanted no more of: rape
XXX
AN: Another chapter has come and gone! I'd like you all to know that your reviews are GREATLY appreciated, and even though I don't respond to them here, I do try to email you all personally and thank you. Your reviews motivate me to write. The next chapter will hopefully be up in the next week-2weeks.
Chapter Nine: Wrong Place, Wrong Time Is Hermione raped as this chapter implies? Or is it simply someone trying to get her by herself for a little alone time? Stay tuned. )