Hermione
Hogwarts
December 24th 1996
Tell me something no one knows about you
Hermione observed her own handwriting and remarked at the boldness of the question. But after several days of writing back and forth with the Slytherin, she was beginning to feel unrestricted with him.
Other than the obvious? He responded with the most perfectly even handwriting she had ever seen. Hermione imagined an arched blond brow accompanied the response.
It was Christmas Eve and Hermione nestled herself into a comfortable overstuffed couch at the center of Gryffindor's deserted common room. A dwindling fire warmly lit her face as she let herself be consumed by her new obsession.
Well I know about that, so that doesn't count. She replied, watching as his previously written words faded away. She bit the tip of her thumb watching for his reply.
OK. A pause. I secretly like a few, only a few, muggle authors.
Hermione's jaw dropped.
Muggle born authors?
No. Muggle muggle authors
It was almost inconceivable. How could he have even had access to such a thing with his stringent pureblood only upbringing? Did he smuggle them into Malfoy Manor like a teenager sneaking alcohol into the house? Which muggle writers did he like? What were his thoughts on the differences in style….
And to answer line of questions I know you have, I found the first book in my mother's study when I was eight. It didn't even cross my mind it could be a muggle author, so I read it and I liked it. I asked my mother if she had any other books by that author, and when she realized what happened, she carefully explained to me that it was actually a muggle book and it should stay our little secret.
Hermione delighted at the thought of Narcissa Malfoy with a secret collection of muggle books in her study.
What book was it?
Pride and Prejudice
You read Pride and Prejudice when you were eight? Hermione scribbled back quickly, doing her best to capture her astonishment in her response.
What can I say Granger, I'm a genius
Hermione pictured Draco, likely somewhere in the Slytherin common room according to one of his previous messages, giving himself a self satisfied, cocky grin.
Did your mother give you another Jane Austen book? Hermione replied, desperate to know.
Yes, Mansfield Park.
Hermione was at the ready to respond, but he quickly, yet still very neatly, sent another message.
Now you tell me something no one else knows
Hermione twirled her quill in thought. Not much came to mind. She certainly couldn't come up with anything quite as scandalous as the Pureblood Prince enjoying a muggle author.
Fair warning, it's nothing earth shattering
Warning accepted
Well, it's silly but when I was young, maybe three, my mum was distraught that we didn't get snow on Christmas, so my dad packed us all in the car and we drove for hours until we found some. We made this pathetic snow man with what little snow there was, but every year after that, it was tradition that we would go on holiday to wherever would have the most snow so we could make a snowman on Christmas. It's not salacious but I guess I never told anyone about it.
Several moments passed in which he didn't respond. Insecurity clawed at Hermione's nerves that she may have declared something dreadfully offensive to him.
What in the hell is a snowman?
A beat, and then rapid writing.
Is that like some possessed snow creature? And a follow-up question if that is what they are: Why in merlin's name would you make them? Can muggles make possessed snow creatures without magic?
Hermione was delightfully shocked.
You've never made a snow man?
We need to establish the basics as to what one even is.
It's a man made of snow! Hermione could not control the grin threatening to take over the entirety of her face.
So it looks like a man? With arms and legs and a head? Is it to scale?
Well, not quite. It's really three really big snowballs that you stack on top of each other.
That doesn't sound like it looks human at all.
Well you have to decorate to look like a person.
These snowmen of yours make no sense.
I promise Draco, they're harmless.
A comfortable pause in their banter lingered, which had become commonplace in their conversations. Hermione turned back to a book she had been reading, making a mental note she should find a copy of Pride and Prejudice.
After a few more beats of silence, the paper hummed with magic.
I want to see you.
She stared at the words like they could leap off the paper and ravage her. A slow, burning feeling overtook her chest and moved it's way south. Parts of her she had not even realized were unattended to lit up, demanding to be addressed.
I want to see you too . Hermione finally wrote back, wishing she could think of something more to say, but her mental capacities were overloaded with the most recent memory of the two alone together.
Hermione had been caviller in her own thoughts about how easy it would be to sneak off with Malfoy with everyone away. The idea of being alone with him after the night of the Slugclub party thrilled and terrified her all at once, and it made her feel electric.
But unfortunately, both Hermione and Draco seemed to acquire a shadow over their breaks.
Luna had becoming exceptionally talented at running into Hermione whenever she was outside the Gryffindor common room, which for the most part, was always when she was enroute to try to meet Malfoy.
Strangely, a similar phenomenon was happening to Draco where Theo would not give him a moment of peace. Draco on one occasion wrote that his friend hardly let him go to the loo without making it a group trip.
The more they tried to shake their counterparts to meet up, the more suspicious they seemed. So as their only alternative, they spent hours on end writing to each other via parchment.
That was until the day prior when the stars finally aligned.
Hermione had told Malfoy she was going to the library, hoping that he would suddenly be inspired to do the same, even though she knew Luna would somehow find her, and Theo would not leave him be.
When she got there, as predicted, Luna turned up out of seemingly thin air. Hermione attempted to convince her friend that hanging around the library would be boring, but the Ravenclaw seemed absolutely delighted by the prospect of being bored in the library.
Moments after taking a seat at a study table with Luna, Hermione saw Draco walk in, followed by Theo.
Carefully, Draco gave Hermione a fleeting look that appeared to indicate that he would murder Theo very soon. Hermione looked subtly at Luna and shrugged sheepishly.
An awkward silence enveloped the two groups as Draco and Theo passed the two girls to take a seat nearby, but that tension eased quickly into a calm working silence.
In fact, Hermione found that for the first time since being on break, she had made quite a bit of progress on her research into Thatcher's method for wordless wand work. It seemed that having Malfoy near by silenced the frenzy of activity in her brain, leaving her clear of mind to finally focus on things other than him.
Eventually, Hermione exhausted all the information about Thatchers from the book she was reading so she rose to check the catalog for where a more obscure book on the topic was located.
Letting her fingers dance over the spines of the books as she walked along, Hermione went deeper and deeper into the stacks looking for her book. Finally after weaving in and out of several aisles, she spotted it on a top shelf. While fishing out her wand to summon it down, she felt something move behind her, and then the smell of cedar and rain.
He moved like a shadow as his hand found her hip, and she felt the pressure of his palm move her into him until her back was flush against his front.
Pulsating feelings of pure adrenaline and lust and nerves whirled through her system as his body pressed up against hers. The tips of her fingers itched to feel him but they wouldn't move. She was still uncertain on how to express the complexities of her emotions towards him.
His free hand moved her loose curls away from her shoulder, exposing the softness of her neck to him. Inching down, his breath softly lingered over the exposed skin, like he was breathing fog against a cool pane of glass. Finally, his lips connected to a sensitive part of her neck, and he began to lightly suck against the skin.
Her body reacted involuntarily to the sensation. She arched her back gently until she was pressing herself firmly up against him.
He let out a strained hiss by her ear, "I can't make any promises we won't get caught if you do that," he warned, then continued to nip at her neck.
His hand moved past her hip and over her stomach, angling his fingers up, creeping closer to the bottom edge of her breast. Even with his hands going north, a pooling of heat worked down lower and lower in her belly.
"Well then you can't do that," Hermione replied with a hitch, trying to keep her tone low.
She bit her lip as the pressure of both of their bodies angling into one another brought her closer to the book shelf in front of her.
Against her neck, she felt Draco's lips curl into a smile. Needing to see him, she turned herself in his embrace, her back now against the books. She angled her chin up, and took in the boyish grin he gave her.
She marveled at how he could have such angular, striking features, but at the same time seem so mischievous and bright. Without realizing it, she reached up to his face and let her thumb graze against the faint stubble along his jaw.
His blue eyes were latched onto her honeyed ones, and it felt like a fever dream that she was there with him.
It became imperative that she kissed him.
With her hands latched around his neck, she angled herself onto the tips of her toes, and in the same motion of pulling him down to her, and her rising to meet him, their lips met.
Draco's hands moved swiftly around her waist, bringing her into him with a sense of urgency.
Their kiss burned slow and deep. Each caress of their lips, each new lick of their tongues against the other felt like slowly taking in a deep, gratifying breath.
Hermione hummed happily into Draco's mouth each time he would do something that made her ache. And each time she would do that, he would hungrily dig his fingers into the small of her back.
"Hermione!" a small voice called from a distance. It was Luna, which Hermione reasoned was a better alternative than the possibility of Theo finding them.
The Slytherin and the Gryffindor parted reluctantly, then resting his forehead against hers. The heat of their exhales danced in the space between them.
Glad for the brief interlude, but aware that they were out of time, Hermione reached up once again to pull his face down to hers for a quick departing kiss.
"Until next time Granger," Draco whispered with a coy smirk as he strolled away.
Catching her breath, Hermione called back to Luna to avoid her coming any further into the stacks, possibly running into Draco in his retreat.
"Want to play Gobstones Hermione!?"
Hermione was abruptly startled out of her day dream, while at the same time realizing she was still in the Gryffindor common room. Quickly, she reached for her shared parchment and pulled it protectively into her chest.
Once her mind and eyes focused, she realized it was Colin Creevy standing in front of her with his brother just over his shoulder. They were the only other two Gryffindors who had stayed behind for break. She shook her head once more for good measure, having just been deeply distracted, and looked at Colin kindly.
"No thank you Colin, but I appreciate the invitation," Hermione said with a flustered smile. She rushed in gathering her things from the couch, and headed to the girls dormitory.
Back up in her room, Hermione laid the parchment out on her bed, rereading her last line to Draco.
I want to see you too
The highly illogical side of Hermione Granger, the side which rarely got to see the light of day, wanted to abandon reason and sneak down to the Slytherin dungeons. Malfoy could probably sneak her in, right? It was Malfoy, he could get away with anything.
Frigid whisps of winter air passed through the old stone walls of the dormitory, cooling her flushed skin. She looked and saw a flurry of snowflakes feverishly whip around just beyond the glass. The air and the scene outside cooled her slightly from her reckless thinking.
Reluctantly she reached out and responded.
We can't tonight though, the Creevey brothers are in the common room. They'll see me leave.
I hate Gryffindors Draco wrote back. She couldn't help but laugh.
No you don't she replied, smiling.
No. I don't
Several times over the past few days, Hermione feared she would not be able to keep up with the developing affections she formed for Draco. But, each time, whether it be a fleeting look, or one of his layers being peeled back for her to see, or the electricity she felt when he touched her, she found that her body always adapted and made room for what was growing within her.
Goodnight Draco She wrote, loving the way her hand felt when she wrote his name.
Happy Christmas Granger. She looked down at her watch to find it had just struck midnight.