Her clipped, crisp footsteps echoed through the dungeon corridors. With
nothing to absorb the sound, she knew that she would be heard all over the
lowest floors of the castle. But, it wasn't like she would be caught. She
was a professor now, not a student, and she had every right to be wandering
the corridors at midnight, if she chose to do so.
Filch was no longer a threat, just a nuisance.
Sliding her hands into the pockets of her robes, she let her dark brown hair fall forward, covering her face. She was thinking about tomorrow, when she would get up in front of a class of seventh years for the first time. Not that she didn't think she could do it, it just felt strange since she should have been sitting with them, not teaching them.
Dumbledore had pushed her to finish her coursework early. They were in desperate need of a DADA teacher that they could trust. One that would stay for longer than three terms. Harry and Ron had encouraged the idea, knowing that they would get away with a lot more in those classes if their best friend was teaching them.
The light was dim at this time at night, most of the torches not being lit. Only every other one flamed brightly, leaving just enough light to see shadows and silhouettes, not details. She turned a corner and stopped short. She hadn't expected to see anyone this time of night, and certainly not a student. Certainly not Malfoy.
"What are you doing down here, Mudblood?" A catch in his voice betrayed his wariness.
"My name is Granger, Professor Granger, to you, Mr. Malfoy," replied Hermione. She pulled herself up and looked him straight in the eye.
His only response was his usual sneer.
"And the real question," she continued, "is what are you doing down here?"
"As if I would tell you," he stated, his eyes travelling up and down her form in contempt.
"Fine. Ten points from Slytherin for being out of your common room after hours." She managed to say this with only a slight quaver to her voice.
Silence was the only thing that followed this announcement. He took a step towards her, and she suddenly realized how much bigger he was than her. She tilted her head back to keep eye contact, but her show of bravery slipped when she took a little step backward.
"Hermione, Hermione." His voice was smooth and silky. "There will be no points deducted from any House." He reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her left ear. His hand slid down her neck, her shoulder, to fall to its place by his side. Unbidden, she took another step back, only to find that she had reached the stone wall.
Draco took another step towards her, until he towered over her. Hermione took a quick breath before saying, "Draco, get away from me."
A grin slid slowly across his face. In the flickering light of the torches, Hermione saw a glint in his grey eyes. "I don't think so," he said simply.
"I. I'm a professor, Draco. You have to listen to me." Her voice faltered, though, betraying her sudden fear. She had never been so aware of his maleness before. He had always been Malfoy, the bouncing ferret. But, suddenly, she realized that this was no ferret. This was a young man in front of her. One who was taller than her, stronger than her and one who seemed extremely virile. She tried to clear her mind of those thoughts. For goodness' sakes, this was Malfoy!
But, no, she couldn't help noticing the way his eyes roamed her figure, the way his six o'clock shadow was visible, or the way the corded muscles in his neck moved as he swallowed. She could sense the way his muscles rippled under his thin white dress shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her. She gulped. She actually gulped!
"Where are your robes?" She blurted the question out before she could stop herself.
"That's not really your business either," he said simply. He didn't seem angry anymore. In fact, he seemed a little amused that he had gained the upper hand.
They stood there, staring at each other for what seemed like hours, but could only have been a minute. Hermione, clearly flustered, snapped, "Well, get back to your common room. I have to go." Attempting to scoot around him, she ducked her head under his arm, but he stopped her.
"Oh, no you don't," he said. He held her face in his hands, and without thinking about anything except what he was about to enjoy, he lowered his lips down to hers.
Surprised, Hermione could not move. She could not even think. And, then she realized that his lips were soft and his tongue was insistent. She opened her mouth to protest and he slipped his tongue inside. Just enough to brush it against her own. Just enough to send a sliver of hot, intense liquid straight to her most private places. Without consciously deciding, she moved her arms to clasp him around his neck.
The kiss deepened, and his warm mouth felt moist and inviting as she tentatively began her own exploration. His hands slid down her shoulders, her back, to her waist. Without thinking, she pressed her body to him. It felt warm and solid against her own, and she gradually relaxed into him and his kisses. She felt him, hard against her belly, and realized that he wasn't immune to her, either.
Suddenly, she wrenched herself from his grasp. Their harsh breathing was the only thing echoing through the corridors now. They gazed at each other, shocked at their reactions to each other. Hermione unconsciously lifted her fingers to her lips. Draco Malfoy had kissed her. Kissed her with the same lips that had so often formed the word Mudblood. What was she thinking, letting him do that to her?
She forced her legs to move, to back away from him, slowly at first and then breaking into an outright run. But she couldn't get the image of him standing there out of her mind. Because he had looked as stunned as she had felt, his silky blond hair a bit mussed from where she had slid her fingers through it.
Reaching her chambers, she whispered the password to an irate milkmaid who had to be woken up. She rushed through the doorway, slamming the door behind her, and leaned against it. Once again, her fingers found her lips. She felt as if his touch was burnt there, she could feel it so vividly. Closing her eyes, she groaned. Why, oh, why had she just let that happen? And, now, on top of worrying about facing a bunch of students her own age tomorrow, she could worry about facing a young man who had just completely aroused her.
Sliding her hands into the pockets of her robes, she let her dark brown hair fall forward, covering her face. She was thinking about tomorrow, when she would get up in front of a class of seventh years for the first time. Not that she didn't think she could do it, it just felt strange since she should have been sitting with them, not teaching them.
Dumbledore had pushed her to finish her coursework early. They were in desperate need of a DADA teacher that they could trust. One that would stay for longer than three terms. Harry and Ron had encouraged the idea, knowing that they would get away with a lot more in those classes if their best friend was teaching them.
The light was dim at this time at night, most of the torches not being lit. Only every other one flamed brightly, leaving just enough light to see shadows and silhouettes, not details. She turned a corner and stopped short. She hadn't expected to see anyone this time of night, and certainly not a student. Certainly not Malfoy.
"What are you doing down here, Mudblood?" A catch in his voice betrayed his wariness.
"My name is Granger, Professor Granger, to you, Mr. Malfoy," replied Hermione. She pulled herself up and looked him straight in the eye.
His only response was his usual sneer.
"And the real question," she continued, "is what are you doing down here?"
"As if I would tell you," he stated, his eyes travelling up and down her form in contempt.
"Fine. Ten points from Slytherin for being out of your common room after hours." She managed to say this with only a slight quaver to her voice.
Silence was the only thing that followed this announcement. He took a step towards her, and she suddenly realized how much bigger he was than her. She tilted her head back to keep eye contact, but her show of bravery slipped when she took a little step backward.
"Hermione, Hermione." His voice was smooth and silky. "There will be no points deducted from any House." He reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her left ear. His hand slid down her neck, her shoulder, to fall to its place by his side. Unbidden, she took another step back, only to find that she had reached the stone wall.
Draco took another step towards her, until he towered over her. Hermione took a quick breath before saying, "Draco, get away from me."
A grin slid slowly across his face. In the flickering light of the torches, Hermione saw a glint in his grey eyes. "I don't think so," he said simply.
"I. I'm a professor, Draco. You have to listen to me." Her voice faltered, though, betraying her sudden fear. She had never been so aware of his maleness before. He had always been Malfoy, the bouncing ferret. But, suddenly, she realized that this was no ferret. This was a young man in front of her. One who was taller than her, stronger than her and one who seemed extremely virile. She tried to clear her mind of those thoughts. For goodness' sakes, this was Malfoy!
But, no, she couldn't help noticing the way his eyes roamed her figure, the way his six o'clock shadow was visible, or the way the corded muscles in his neck moved as he swallowed. She could sense the way his muscles rippled under his thin white dress shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her. She gulped. She actually gulped!
"Where are your robes?" She blurted the question out before she could stop herself.
"That's not really your business either," he said simply. He didn't seem angry anymore. In fact, he seemed a little amused that he had gained the upper hand.
They stood there, staring at each other for what seemed like hours, but could only have been a minute. Hermione, clearly flustered, snapped, "Well, get back to your common room. I have to go." Attempting to scoot around him, she ducked her head under his arm, but he stopped her.
"Oh, no you don't," he said. He held her face in his hands, and without thinking about anything except what he was about to enjoy, he lowered his lips down to hers.
Surprised, Hermione could not move. She could not even think. And, then she realized that his lips were soft and his tongue was insistent. She opened her mouth to protest and he slipped his tongue inside. Just enough to brush it against her own. Just enough to send a sliver of hot, intense liquid straight to her most private places. Without consciously deciding, she moved her arms to clasp him around his neck.
The kiss deepened, and his warm mouth felt moist and inviting as she tentatively began her own exploration. His hands slid down her shoulders, her back, to her waist. Without thinking, she pressed her body to him. It felt warm and solid against her own, and she gradually relaxed into him and his kisses. She felt him, hard against her belly, and realized that he wasn't immune to her, either.
Suddenly, she wrenched herself from his grasp. Their harsh breathing was the only thing echoing through the corridors now. They gazed at each other, shocked at their reactions to each other. Hermione unconsciously lifted her fingers to her lips. Draco Malfoy had kissed her. Kissed her with the same lips that had so often formed the word Mudblood. What was she thinking, letting him do that to her?
She forced her legs to move, to back away from him, slowly at first and then breaking into an outright run. But she couldn't get the image of him standing there out of her mind. Because he had looked as stunned as she had felt, his silky blond hair a bit mussed from where she had slid her fingers through it.
Reaching her chambers, she whispered the password to an irate milkmaid who had to be woken up. She rushed through the doorway, slamming the door behind her, and leaned against it. Once again, her fingers found her lips. She felt as if his touch was burnt there, she could feel it so vividly. Closing her eyes, she groaned. Why, oh, why had she just let that happen? And, now, on top of worrying about facing a bunch of students her own age tomorrow, she could worry about facing a young man who had just completely aroused her.
