She was totally into this kiss.
'
A thousand thoughts were flying through Ron's head, and they were all clamoring to be heard, but this was the only one that made itself heard through the din. Really. She was totally into it.
She was thoroughly involved, in a way that Hermione never had been – Pansy seemed to be paying attention to every detail, seemed to be trying to read him with her lips. She kissed him as though everything in the world was remote and far away. She kissed him as though he were the only thing that mattered. She kissed him and he knew - he could just tell - that she was thinking a myriad of thoughts revolving only around him and the way he was kissing her.
And he was right.
She was.
Hmm…thought Pansy seriously. He might have the honor of being the very worst of anyone I've ever snogged. Even Justin Finch-Fletchley didn't use quite so much tongue. God, hasn't he had any practice with Granger? If so, I pity the witch.
Weasley then proceeded to move his lips away from hers and start nibbling rather inexpertly on her ear. Pansy was quite unnerved.
And yet… it was a shame, really, because she was fond of him in a way. He was sweet and earnest and gentle. The way he gazed at her made her feel girly and excited and utterly appreciated. Draco had always made her feel awkward and uncomfortable, and she was almost intimidated by his sheer elegance. Yes, she told herself silently, it was too bad about Weasley. Although, she thought, he must surely have some potential. He couldn't be completely hopeless, and in the right girl's hands….
Pansy's eyes widened and she clutched rather desperately at Weasley's shoulders. He stopped his nibbling and raised his head. She could feel his cold breath near her cheek, and her own heart fluttered in response, and it was at that moment that she fully realized.
Weasley was JUST what she needed – a project! Like her vases! She could fix him up perfectly, molding him into the exact sort of boyfriend she had always wanted. It would take months at least, but that wouldn't be at all terrible because she genuinely enjoyed Weasley's company. And in the end… she would have a beautiful, gorgeous creation that just exactly suited her tastes.
And, she thought, her mind absolutely racing, Draco's problem wasn't that he wasn't good enough. It was that he was TOO perfect! He was like one of those pre-made vases that she took absolutely no delight in having. They were exquisite and expensive but she had had no hand in making them.
Delighted by her discovery, she laughed aloud and threw her arms around Weasley, who seemed startled but returned the gesture with interest. He was such a terrible kisser, but she couldn't wait to spend hours, days, weeks, months - making a flaw into an adornment.
Draco was trembling. He couldn't believe this! It was definitely, definitely from the cold – it was most certainly not from the feeling of her lips under his and the breathy gasps she was letting out every so often and from the feeling of his hands in her snow-spangled hair.
Calm down, he told himself. Just calm down. You are totally in control of the situation. Draco inhaled deeply and kissed her softly, expertly, the way Pansy liked to be kissed. Granger reached up and wound her delicate hands around his neck and he smirked against her lips. Never fails to impress the ladies, he thought to himself boastfully. Of course, he thought to himself, the reason Draco had always been such a skilled romancer was that all girls wanted the same thing. All girls wanted to be touched lightly and worshipfully. In fact, Granger was reacting much the same way as Pansy who reacted the same way as Lisa Turpin who reacted the same as Daphne Greengr-
And then his world turned over. Or, to be more, accurate, Draco himself was abruptly turned over by Granger. As near as he could tell, Granger had insinuated her knee between his legs, grabbed his shoulders, and pushed off from the ground until she was lying straddled on top of a thoroughly shell-shocked Draco.
What the f-
But before he could even complete the thought, Granger had slammed her mouth down onto his. His eyes flew open – he couldn't help it. She was writhing around on top of him and her mouth was on his and then her mouth was moving lower until she had yanked the scarf away from his neck and was – shit, she was biting down on his neck and she was raking her nails down his cheek and he was gasping for air and gasping for more. Then her hands were snaking even further down his body until they cupped his arse and he almost cried out in astonishment but was startled by the fact that she had brought her eyes down to his and was glaring into them with fierce intensity and my God she was hot and –
"What's my name?" she hissed.
"Uh…" Draco was momentarily speechless. "What? Why- "
She dug her nails into his buttocks and this time he did cry out as he involuntarily thrust upward into her pelvis. "What. Is. My. Name."
"Uh…Gr-Granger," he managed to get out.
"Close enough," she said and commenced shoving his jacket off and pulling his shirt up and he was SO GLAD that they'd had the foresight to Summon Granger's blanket to lie down on or he'd be lying on snow right now, but he wasn't sure if even that would have stopped him from continuing. And then her nails were clawing viciously up and down his back and her mouth was planting rough kisses up and down his chest and she was punishing him but God he knew he deserved it for every horrible thing he'd ever done to her. He deserved it and he wanted it and he had never in his life felt as alive as he was feeling right now.
Hermione Granger was so happy she could cry or shout or sing.
This was wonderful, this was absolutely amazing.
This had ceased to be a kiss a long time ago, and had instead become a bloody revelation:
In order for her to be able to enjoy her dominatrix tendencies, she had to be in a relationship with someone she absolutely couldn't stand.
Who cares, she thought as she raked her nails down his back and heard him cry out, if it hurt him? It was Malfoy! He deserved this, and a lot more.
Who cares, she thought as she bit down on his lip and heard him gasp in pain and shock, if he was uncomfortable? It was just Malfoy! Stupid, annoying Malfoy! Her happiness was nearly palpable, this was so much more fun than she'd ever imagined. Totally content, she slid off of him and rolled onto her back, lying next to him on the red blanket.
And within a minute, she felt something she'd never expected to feel. Malfoy's hand. And it wasn't on her breast or her arse or even her leg. It was reaching, tentatively, for her hand. Shocked, she returned his grip. And looked up to see his face, looking rather the worse for wear, looming down over hers.
"Ow," he said.
She grinned broadly. "Sorry," she said, although she didn't actually mean it.
His eyes widened in astonishment. He shook his head of silver-blond hair. "You do know," he said seriously, "that there's absolutely no way that I'm letting you go now."
"Likewise," she heard herself say. Oh, dear. That book hadn't been lying when it said that the Binding Kiss augmented relationships. She wondered vaguely if she'd be stuck with Malfoy for life, and she felt disturbed by the thought that that didn't particularly bother her right now.
"Don't you care that I'm an evil prat?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're hardly EVIL, Malfoy."
Draco sounded affronted. "Sure I am."
"Have you ever killed anyone?"
"No," he said.
"Maimed? Raped? Tortured?"
"Ucch," he said. "No."
"Kidnapped? Assaulted?"
"Fine," he snapped. "I get it, I get it. I'm not evil. I am a prat, though."
Hermione considered this. "At this exact moment, are you?"
"Well," began Draco, "I just had a quite enjoyable snog session with someone else's significant other – and technically, I have my own. Not," he added hastily, "that my relationship with Pansy will last any longer than it will take for me to say, 'Sorry. It's over.'"
"Same here," replied Hermione calmly.
"Are you breaking up with Pansy as well?" asked Draco lightly.
"No, idiot." Hermione rolled over onto her stomach and regarded Draco coolly. "I just meant that I have a boyfriend – and I kissed someone who was attached to someone else. If you're a prat, then so am I."
"Well," said Draco. "My best friend is in love with you and I'm going to steal you from right under his nose. Isn't that sort of cruel?"
"Yes, I suppose," said Hermione. She shot him a quizzical look. "Who's in love with me?"
"Blaise."
Hermione goggled at him. "Is he really? I'd no idea."
Draco rolled his eyes. "For someone who's meant to be so clever, you can be really obtuse about some things."
Hermione glared at him and opened her mouth to retort. Before she could even get the words out, however, Draco had reached up, cupped her face in his hands and drawn it down to his. They kissed, slowly and gently this time, and Hermione was shocked to discover that she liked this as well. The force wasn't there, but the intensity was still as strong.
He drew back and brushed some snowflakes out of her hair. "Some things," he told her. "Just some."
Harry couldn't understand it. He could have sworn, absolutely sworn that his red and gold Gryffindor scarf had been looped around his bedpost. He had put it there, not twenty minutes ago. Where on earth was it?
And he had to hurry as it was – an impatient Ginny was waiting for him down in the Gryffindor common room.
Harry and Ginny had both been informed of Ron and Hermione's evening plans. But the couple had explicitly promised that they would return to the castle by 1:30 at the latest. Now it was nearly 3:30 and they had failed to show up in the castle – or on the Marauder's Map. A frantic Ginny had convinced Harry that they needed to go find them - and as Harry was already worried himself, she hadn't had to try very hard.
Running low on time, Harry decided to give up and Summon the scarf – although it seemed a stupid thing to do as he was SURE it was around here somewhere.
But nothing happened. Absolutely nothing happened. In a confused daze, Harry walked down to the common room to see Ginny, bundled up warmly and holding Harry's scarf in her hand.
"Where did you find that?" he gaped at her.
She shrugged. "It was really weird. It just came soaring through the portrait hole. You must have left it downstairs somewhere."
Harry shook his head in frustration. "I – no, I didn't…. It was on my bedpost, I swear!"
Ginny just stared at him. "You're looking a bit frazzled. Are you sure you're all right, Harry?"
Harry sighed, defeated. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just go."
Broomsticks in hand, Harry and Ginny stepped out of the portrait hole and – "AAAARGH!"
Harry had tripped over something – or, to be more accurate, someone.
It was Blaise Zabini, who had been fast asleep outside of the portrait hole and was rubbing his stomach in pain from where Harry had stepped on it.
"Zabini?" asked Harry, totally confused. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Blaise glanced up at them, feeling quite foolish. "Oh. Sorry. I was, er… just admiring the…lovely, er…." He gave up. "Sod it all. I was waiting for Hermione."
"Hermione? Why?" asked Ginny suspiciously.
Blaise sighed. "Because I was hoping to give her the Christmas present I bought for her. Before I had to go home for the holidays."
Harry gaped at him. "You bought Hermione a Christmas gift?"
"Yeah," said Blaise defensively. "What of it, Potter?"
"Nothing," said Harry hastily. "Look, Hermione's not here. And we're in a bit of a rush, so…"
"Not here?" he said, sounding worried. "Where is she?"
Ginny and Harry exchanged a quick glance. "Well," said Ginny. "She went out with my brother, but they were supposed to be back by now. So Harry and I are going out to look for them."
Blaise scrambled to his feet and looked Harry squarely in the eye. "I'm coming, too."
Harry glared at Blaise. "Give me one good reason why we should let you tag along."
"Because," said Blaise smoothly. "If you don't let me, I'll wake up every teacher I can think of and tell them where you've gone."
Ginny put a warning hand on Harry's arm. Harry's face was starting to get dangerously red. "Just let him, Harry. The important thing is that we find them as soon as possible. Let's not waste time."
It took a bit of time to convince Harry that it was a good idea, but he eventually acquiesced.
"I can be really useful," Blaise informed Harry. "I can follow their scent. I'm part-vampire, you know," he announced proudly.
Harry wrinkled his nose. "Ewww. That's very gross and disturbing."
Blaise looked highly affronted. "YOU'RE very gross and disturbing," he shot off.
"Honestly, you two," said Ginny, shaking her hair. "If we're going to find them, we have to work together."
And she marched down the stairs imperiously, leaving the two boys to glower at each other darkly before following her lead.
Harry, Ginny, and Blaise had just finished flying over the lake when it happened: Two huge thestrals, visible only to Harry, had come flying directly at the three of them.
"Watch out!" Harry had yelled sharply, but it was too late. The other two had no idea what they were supposed to be looking out for and one of the thestrals had clipped Blaise lightly with its wing. It hadn't hurt him at all, but he was so shocked that he twisted around and lost control of his broom. With a shriek, Blaise fell about ten feet, fortunately landing in some bushes which lessened the impact a bit.
Harry and Ginny put their brooms into a dive and in no time they were on the ground where Blaise was still lying, looking dazed.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked immediately looking at the pale, dark-haired boy in front of them.
"I think I might have sprained my wrist," he said, wincing a bit as he tried to move it. "What was that, Potter? How did you know it was there?"
"Thestrals," he said shortly.
Blaise turned a shade whiter. "My dad told me thestrals hate anyone with vampire blood. I'm lucky they didn't kill me."
Ginny knelt down next to him and examined his wrist. "Yeah, I think it might be sprained." She glanced up at Harry. "He's in no shape to fly."
Harry put his head in his hands and rubbed at his temples wearily. "So what do you think we should do?"
"I think I should stay with him," said Ginny staunchly. "He sprained his right arm, so he wouldn't be able to use his wand if anybody should come after him. Go on and find Ron and Hermione. Bring them back here – Hermione will be able to mend his wrist in a heartbeat."
It was a mark of how very exhausted Harry was that he put up no argument. "Fine," he said. "I'll be back as soon as I possibly can. Be safe."
He ruffled Ginny's fair, shot Blaise a warning look, and kicked off the ground and into the winter sky.