Hello again! Thanks for reading my story. I know it's moving kinda slow, but I promise it will catch up in the next few chapters. Please review and give me any suggestions or comments. Thank you Phaedra
Chapter 3 Constant Reminders
Another uneventful week passed at Hogwart's. Although Hermione made a conscience effort to spend more time in her common room, it made no difference. Draco was never there. After awhile she started to think she was just picking up some mixed signals, and that he had just temporarily lapsed into normal human behavior.
She woke up on Friday morning feeling out of sorts. She noticed she was running a bit late, so she opted for a quick shower, no fancy bubbles, or steam massages. She hurried out into the common room and stopped short. There sprawled out on one of the couches lay Draco. Her breath caught in her throat, the air felt like it was heavy with moisture. He lay innocently enough asleep, but only half dressed. Her eyes were immediately drawn to his bared torso. The muscles were all clearly defined, obviously without effort. The rise and fall of his chest hypnotized Hermione momentarily. His pants were dangerously low, and exposed the fine muscles leading to a taper beneath. She looked to his face and saw his normally perfect hair in a dishevel. It looked like soft gold.
Hermione weighed her options. She could wake him up and ruin this moment, or she could let him sleep, which would make both of them late for class, because she knew she wouldn't be able to tear her eyes away from him. She took the first choice, still retaining some of her sanity. She crept quietly up the side of the couch, and carefully laid a hand upon his shoulder. His skin felt warm and soft. For a fleeting moment she felt the urge to run her fingers along his arm, and across his chest. Oh my god, what am I thinking? This is Malfoy!! Have I lost it just because he saved me from one stupid embarrassing moment? Hell he didn't even do it on purpose.
While she was staring blankly down at her hand on his shoulder Draco awoke. He didn't dare to move. Instead he focused on her face, and wondered at the conflict he noticed in her eyes. Quickly he debated whether he should pretend to still be asleep, or if he should catch the surprise and embarrassment in her eyes. He didn't want to ruin this strangely sweet moment, so he again shut his eyes. After a moment he felt the gentle pressure of Hermione trying to shake him out of his pretend slumber. She had the most delicate touch he noticed. Had he really been asleep he never would have felt it. She persisted with added pressure this time, adding her other hand to the mix. He skin was cool to the touch, and it sent slight chills down his back.
He slowly opened his eyes, and couldn't help but smile a little. She looked down at him, and as predicted her cheeks grew red. "Trying to molest me?" he chuckled, finding it all very amusing.
"Hardly, I didn't want to be sent back up 8 flights of stairs to wake you up. I thought I would save myself the trouble." She said angrily. With that she flipped her hair, and stormed out of the room.
Draco stared after her confused. He thought he was being friendly. He thought it was a cute joke. But then he remembered this was Granger he was talking about. His mood turned sour. What the hell? She can't take a joke. No wonder she's got that book jammed so far up her... ARGGG.... why was I trying to be nice to that wench anyways? What has she ever done for me? Nothing... Not a thing. Just because she touched you a little bit doesn't mean you have to get yourself all worked up Draco. Come on, she shook you, it's not like she started rubbing you down. My god, what is wrong with me?
With that Draco pulled himself off the couch and headed into his bed chambers. He had just enough time to fix his hair, and put on a clean pair of robes. With that he raced down to his herbology class.
She was sitting where she always did, right in between Ron and Harry. Draco threw the three of them his customary scowl and proceeded to the slytherin side of the room. He took the chance to look up at her midway through class. Something was amiss. She was staring down at her hands, and both Ron and Harry were equally solemn. Has there been a fight? Did I miss something?? He stared for awhile longer, and when he realized he would get no answers that way, he decided to make a go of it. He got out of his seat, and walked over toward the three of them. He grazed past on his way to the fountain, and said "What is that smell? Did someone die?" Just loud enough for the Slytherin table to hear "Oh no, must just be Weasel, potty, and the mudblood."
He looked directly at Hermione hoping to see what the tension was all about. If they were mad at each other he reasoned they wouldn't stick up for one another. Unfortunately the look Hermione had in her eye was one of searing pain. He could see tears welling up. Harry gave him a hard shove, and he landed on top of a stack of pots. Harry and Ron shot him venomous glances, but Hermione had again turned to her hands, which were now splattered with tears. What the? I've called her a mudblood thousands of times, and it only made her cry once. What did I say? Wait... what if she sort of likes me, and I just hurt her feelings? No... couldn't be... besides, what would I want with a dirty little know it all like that anyways?
Hermione tried to dry her eyes inconspicuously, but she knew Ron and Harry had noticed. After she rushed into class and pulled out her organizer she realized what day it was, her mother's birthday. She grew very quiet, and ignored all prodding from Harry and Ron. When they didn't cease she slid her planner across the table and the two were quiet instantly. She had written the date in last year, and had scribbled hearts and stars all around it. When Draco made the comment about some one dying it sent her off the edge.
She slowly rose from her seat and walked to the front of the room. She quietly asked Mrs. Sprout to be excused, and wasn't denied, given every teacher was aware of her circumstance. She didn't notice a pair of eyes lingering on her, eyes tinged with worry and regret.