Chapter numero the seventh

The next day, as wounds were being healed, Draco paced throughout the castle, thinking, brooding and muttering. It would take more than a few hours to get that kiss off of his mind.

Wearing a Green Day sweatshirt and black cargo pants, he was stared at by many people. No-one knew Draco owned a GD shirt, or that he wore (gasp!) cargo pants! To top it all off, he was wearing Converses, and his hair was its usual messy self. He looked entirely muggle, and he didn't care who saw.

Turning a corner, he almost re-ran into Hermione. But this time, Ron and Harry were with her, and so the Slytherin drew himself up from his slouch, plastering a sneer on his face. Of course, like the rest of the people Draco had walked by, they stopped and stared. Harry gawked, Ron glared and Hermione was looking down, her head at an odd angle…

"What's the matter, Potty? Never seen a Malfoy before?" he flipped his hair back and gazed with intense hate into the black haired boys eyes.

"Y-y-you're wearing…..m-mu-muggle clothes…" sputtered Ron, who was going red.

"Course I am. Why shouldn't I be?" his answers were nice and short.

"Your hand, Malfoy." Came a small voice, and, breaking the hate-filled glare, he turned over to look at Hermione.

"Yeah, it's a hand, so?"

"It's bleeding."

"What d'you know, it IS!" and he pulled a sleeve from his sweatshirt over it.

"You need to see a doctor….go to Madam Pomfrey!" she said.

"No." was all he said, before stalking away.

Why does she care? She hates me, and I hate her. That's the natural order of things. Nodding to himself, he walked back to the Head rooms.

Pausing only to say the password, he walked right in, wishing he could forget the whole thing ever happened. It was too confusing, these emotions, bordering on love and hate.

Yet, when he thought about her, the hate seemed to dissipate, leaving him with a warm feeling inside.

He threw off his sweatshirt and shirt, exposing his upper body. Not exactly body-builder material, but pretty nice. He warmed up some tea for himself and sat down on his couch. The fire was roaring, and he lost himself in the flames and his thoughts.

Hermione was worried for Draco, even though her friends could care less.

"Did you see him! In those pants! I never knew he dressed like that…"

"Yea, but his sweatshirt! Green Day! He looked a right muggle like that!"

"Harry, Ron, shut up."

The boys looked confused, and shrugged as Hermione stopped at her dorm. She whispered the password and shooed them away.

Changing into sandy colored cargo pants and a white tee, she opened her books and tried to study. But his face kept flitting across her mind, and finally she was so tired of trying to concentrate that she slammed the book shut and stormed out into the hallway. Positively pounding on Draco's door, she waited.

The door opened, and she gasped in surprise. There he was, with NO SHIRT on and a mug of…Earl Grey! He looked up, surprise flickering on his nonchalant face.

"What do you want?" he asked, unnaturally calm.

"We-we need to talk."

"No, really?" sarcasm dripped from his voice like honey from the beehive.

"You know, when we….when we…."

"Kissed?"

"Yeah. Anyways, that was just a big mistake, and"

Draco got up, walking slowly towards her.

"You think it's a mistake?" he said, his voice low, sending shivers down her spine.

She had no reply. He was close now, so close she could see the gray in his eyes. There were butterflies in her stomach, and her legs were jelly. She wondered, if he would just come closer….

Draco was on fire, like an electrical current was running through his every nerve. Here she was, so close, close enough to kiss…

"Well, maybe it's not a mistake." He said, his voice deep and low. He could smell her vanilla scent.

"Maybe…." It was no more than a breath, but enough to lose him completely.

Time slowed as he reached for her hands. Time slowed as she drew herself closer to him, her chest against his. He lowered his head, and slowly they kissed. It was a long time before they separated, but by that time enough fire and electricity was running through his body, joy sensors tingling. Her eyes were half closed, and she pulled him into another kiss, hungrier this time.

Suddenly, as if cold water had been splashed over the two, they broke apart again.

"Hermione, you know these moments we have?" he said shakily, touching his lips.

"Yes." She replied, her eyes full of shock and self-disgust.

"Well, we should REALLY stop having them." She nodded, agreeing fully and totally.

Okay, not one of my best chapters, but I'm on a race against the clock, so yeah. If it sucks, let me know.

wheatus