The days that followed were nerve-wracking for Hermione. Malfoy had been right; it had been way more than just a little liquid courage that night. She wanted Malfoy too. She didn't know how or when it had happened, but she did. The problem was that she could barely stand to admit that to herself, let alone act on it, and the alcohol had seemed like a good excuse to use…or scapegoat.
She huffed, head falling into her hands as she leaned over the text in her lap.
What if she had sex with him and regretted it? What if he proved Harry right and tossed her aside? Hermione was just afraid of making a fool out of herself, and rightfully so. She hadn't seen any visitors around the dorm lately, but that didn't mean much. Malfoy could be sneaky when he wanted to be. It wasn't like she particularly cared if he would still be sleeping around, not much anyway, but she wasn't sure if she was that kind of girl.
If she did sleep with him, would she be alright with him sleeping with other people too? She liked to think that she would be, especially considering that she couldn't even imagine having anything serious with Malfoy, but Hermione figured that something like that was easier said than done. She groaned, wondering why things had to be so complicated, and why she had to be so…weak.
Just then, the portrait door opened, and she looked up, brown and grey clashing.
"Hello," she hesitantly greeted.
"I'm surprised you aren't at the library," he responded, eyes narrowed.
She cringed at the accusation in his tone. She'd been doing her best to avoid him. Funnily enough, he hadn't treated her any differently since that night, but the combined embarrassment from both his rejection and being called out for what she was trying to pull had her tucking tail.
"I got tired of being stared at," she mumbled.
It was the truth. Her own house was treating her like a cold sore, and everyone else was still whispering about her. If she didn't find a secluded corner to study in, then she would have to deal with the curious and venomous gazes of her schoolmates. Malfoy dropped his bag on the chair, features hardening at her response.
"I can make it stop, you know. Just say the word, and no one will even think about looking at you wrong."
She swallowed at the conviction in his voice, and knew without a doubt that he would do it…whatever it was that he wanted to do to make it stop. She shook her head.
"That's nice, but… I made this mess, Malfoy. It's not the first time I've been talked about. I can deal with it," she assured.
He heaved a low sigh, sitting in the chair next to her.
"I'm trying to find a spell or something that will stop Nott's father. Preferably a binding spell, or something of that nature…," she trailed off as Malfoy chuckled, but it lacked humor.
She looked up at him, watching as he rested his ankle on his knee, elbow pressed into the arm of the chair. He placed his chin in his hand as he gazed at her with a small smirk.
"I didn't think you were serious, Granger," he hummed.
She blinked.
"Of course, I was serious. It's a serious matter, and I told you that I want to save your friend."
Malfoy reached over, plucking the book from her lap and closing it with a deafening sound. His face was serious as he stared her down.
"There's nothing you can do, Granger. Nott Sr. is a cowardly excuse of a man who will die a painful and violent death," he calmly said as if speaking of the weather.
Hermione frowned.
"Malfoy…there is always another way. You're discussing murder, here, and I can't let you do that," she whispered.
"What if I want to?" he whispered back.
Hermione reared back, blinking in shock as he raised an eyebrow at her.
"You can't mean that," she mumbled.
"I do. The world would be better off without scum like him, and I have no reservations about ridding of him myself," he replied.
"He will pay for what he's doing. Men like him always get their comeuppance-."
"I know he will…by my hand," Malfoy interrupted matter-of-factly.
"Draco!"
"Hermione…"
They stared each other down for what felt like an endless amount of time. She huffed when he did not relent, and she glanced away with stinging eyes.
"If you never had any intentions of… Why did you tell me? Why did you make me think it was possible to change your mind? Was it all some big test or something?"
"Yes, actually…"
She looked at him again with wide eyes, having not expected that answer. He slowly ran his eyes over her, an unreadable expression falling over his features.
"I wanted to see if I could trust you," he murmured.
Hermione chewed on her lip, unsure of how she felt about that. She suddenly rose from her seat, lowering herself next to him so that they were eye to eye.
"What do I have to do to talk you out of this?" she quietly pleaded. "I don't want to have to go to Dumbledore."
He gently gripped her chin, eyes boring into her own.
"…then don't."
"You know I will have to," she argued.
"What do you think Dumbledore will do, pray tell? You think he will send me away for murdering a Death Eater who was abusing his son, sometimes to the brink of death? You honestly think Dumbledore would be outraged that I rid the world of someone like him?"
"…why wouldn't he be?"
Malfoy leaned in some more, lips a hair's width away from her own.
"Your headmaster isn't so squeaky clean himself. He's let some rather ugly things happen all in the name of the greater good," he whispered.
Hermione frowned in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
Instead of answering, he simply stood.
"I'm doing it, Granger. You can't stop me, so, by all means, tell Dumbledore if you'd like…"
"It's not…right," she weakly argued.
He looked down at her, eyes never leaving her frame as she stood too.
"According to whom? After learning what you learned about Nott Sr., tell me… Would you think it unfortunate if he died of natural causes? Or a freak accident? Or murdered by a serial killer?"
Hermione didn't respond, because she didn't need to. They both knew what her answer would be. Malfoy smirked.
"…so…why is it any different if I'm the one to do it?"
"Because!"
He raised his eyebrows at her outburst, and she huffed, clasping her hands together.
"What if someone found out? What if you do get in trouble, and they send you to Azkaban? What if they…what if they give you the Dementor's kiss?"
Malfoy blinked, visibly taken aback by her response. He tilted his head, the smallest of frowns on his face as he gazed at her with an expression she couldn't name.
"You're worried about me," he stated.
Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes.
"Don't make a big deal out of it. It's natural for me to worry when it comes to something this serious. I don't want that to happen to you, and I know Nott is your friend, and that you want to help him, but I'm certain he wouldn't want that to happen to you either."
Malfoy pursed his lips as he stared at her.
"Please, try to find another way. Please…"
Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest, exhaling.
"…no."
Hermione clenched her jaw, copying him as she folded her arms over her chest.
"Do with that what you will, Granger. Have a good night."
She glared at him as he walked towards his room, grabbing his bag along the way. She looked away, fed up of constantly looking at his room door as it closed in her face.
"Granger…"
Hermione turned, looking past the straggling students to find none other than Zabini walking towards her. He was alone, a rarity for him, and Hermione was sure that her confusion was evident. He smirked at her, and Hermione found herself thinking that it reminded her of a certain blonde's. They hung around each other way too much.
"Heading to lunch?"
"…yes," she answered a bit unsurely.
She and Zabini were far less than acquaintances, and he was never a "small talk" kind of person. Least of all with her.
"Are you going to Slughorn's Christmas party?"
She stopped walking, staring at him with wide eyes. He didn't appear nervous or angry to be speaking with her. It seemed like a casual conversation for him, which only caused her confusion to grow as she wondered why on earth he was asking her about the Christmas party.
"I was, but…," she trailed off, feeling no need to elaborate.
"You were going with Weasley?" Zabini sneered.
Hermione rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest as she glanced around the corridor.
"I was hoping to," she corrected, shuffling her feet.
Zabini chuckled, and she had a feeling that it was at her as if he found her to be the most pitiful thing to walk the earth.
"What do you want, Zabini?" she asked, fed up.
"I'm going. I was going to take Daphne, but it's been uh…brought to my attention that I should take you," he confessed.
Hermione reared back. She had been expecting it, but at the same time, not really.
"Brought to your attention by who…?"
The answer was there in the back of her mind, but the question was…why? Zabini simply smirked, eyes mirthful.
"What do you say, Granger?" he asked, ignoring her question.
"I…suppose so," she hesitantly agreed, eyeing him.
He rolled his eyes.
"Don't worry, Granger, I have no ulterior motives. I wouldn't even dream of trying anything, and I don't really think I'm your type," he said.
Hermione's confusion grew, and she raised her eyebrow at him.
"How would you know what my type is…?"
Zabini's smirk only grew, and he turned away. Her irritation rose as he seemed to ignore her again. It was only when he got near the end of the corridor did he glance over his shoulder.
"Blond, right?"
She felt her face heat up as he chuckled, rounding the corner. Hermione was sure that Malfoy had put him up to it, but why? He wasn't planning on going, was he? Her eyes widened at the absurdity of the notion, knowing exactly how Slughorn felt about the Malfoys, at the moment.
Hermione didn't have time to ponder that further, because her attention was being drawn elsewhere.
"Hermione…"
Hermione glanced over her shoulder, eyes connecting with those of Ginny's. The younger girl looked unsure as she approached, an unfamiliar look for the normally confident redhead.
"I'm sorry about what I said," she sheepishly stated, getting to the point. "You're right. You're always the one to be the bigger person, and it's time that changed."
Hermione didn't respond, sensing that she wasn't finished.
"…but I don't regret everything else I said. Yes, I was encouraging you to pursue Malfoy, but that was to get over Ron, when I thought that this whole thing had a possibility to be fixed. This isn't the time to be divided, Hermione. Just tell them the truth, and they can apologize for their mistake, and things can be alright again," she continued.
Hermione sighed.
"I know that you're still hurt and upset, and believe me when I say I was on board with the payback, but I didn't think it'd go this far."
Hermione looked down, agreeing with her sentiments on that. She didn't think it'd go so far either.
"Just tell them the truth, is all I'm asking. You don't have to be the bigger person or offer any sort of apology. Just tell them," she pleaded.
Hermione pursed her lips, dropping her arms. Ginny was right, and she knew it. It was, perhaps, the worst time to be fighting. Voldemort could rain down on them at any moment, and they were going around hating each other, because one screw up had escalated into much more. Merlin knows she wanted to be stubborn, and make then stew in their anger a bit longer, but her payback didn't have to interfere with her common sense.
"…I'll tell them. It won't be today, but soon," she relented.
Ginny sighed in relief.
"That's as far as I'm going. I still want a sincere apology from the both of them, especially Harry," she firmly stated.
"Good, good," Ginny breathed. "I shouldn't have talked to you like that the other day. It's just…"
She glanced around, stepping closer.
"You aren't staying in the dorms, so you don't know how bad it is, but…nobody trusts you, anymore. I mean, Dean wants to, because I do, but I can tell that he's struggling with it. Everyone thinks you're rolling around in the sheets with Malfoy every night," she explained, and Hermione frowned at that.
Yeah, she definitely hadn't thought this whole thing through.
"Everyone knows about his father, now, and even though they won't say it, some students share Harry's sentiments."
Hermione nodded in understanding
"Okay. No one else needs to know what really happened, but maybe things will get better if the three of us can…at least be cordial to one another," Hermione breathed.
"…you won't be sitting with us today, will you?" Ginny asked as they walked towards the hall.
"No," Hermione sadly said. "It's been made clear that I'm not welcome, and I probably won't be until I tell Harry and Ron the truth."
She slowed as they approached the entrance, eyes landing on Malfoy as he stood next to the door. Ginny eyed him, lips downturned as he looked up.
"I'll talk to you later…?" Ginny questioned, hopeful.
"Yeah," Hermione replied with a small smile.
She approached her dorm mate as Ginny walked inside. He smirked, eyes following Ginny before landing on her.
"The two of you made up. How sweet," he commented.
He didn't sound like he thought it was sweet, at all.
"She apologized for what she said, but…some points were made. I'm going to tell Harry and Ron the truth. Is that alright?" she asked as they stepped inside.
"Why are you asking me? It's your reputation and so called friendships on the line, here, not mine," he said.
She ignored the quip about Ron and Harry, because the way he phrased it wasn't entirely wrong.
"I'm not forgiving them until they apologize to me, and even then that might take some time, but my entire house thinks we're bed buddies, and now they think I'm doing Voldemort's bidding with you every other night," she complained.
Malfoy chuckled, pulling her along as he sat down.
"They think I'd waste nights with you by doing Voldemort's bidding instead of something a bit more…exhausting?"
He laughed to himself, and Hermione rolled her eyes, not as amused by his little joke.
"After years and years of students getting caught and given detention, you'd think they'd learn," Hermione said with a pout, genuinely worried.
"It's the allure of the forbidden, Granger," Malfoy added. "Why shag in the security of your room when you could do it in an empty classroom?"
She eyed him.
"Have you ever shagged someone in a classroom?"
Malfoy seemed to be in thought, a crooked smile gracing his lips as he reminisced.
"Once during fourth year. I don't particularly like it," he answered.
"Any reason as to why…?"
"It's highly uncomfortable, and you have to be quick," he said, smile transforming into a smirk. "I like to take my time."
She glanced away, having the sudden urge to change the subject.
"Zabini asked me to Slughorn's Christmas party," she said, sitting on the couch.
She watched as Malfoy tugged off his jacket, following her lead.
"I know…"
"You told him to, didn't you?"
His smirk grew as he turned to look at her.
"Yes."
She wasn't surprised to discover that she was right.
"Why? You aren't going, are you?"
"Of course, I am," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Her eyes widened.
"You can't! You aren't invited, and if you get caught, you could get in trouble."
"You're worried about me," he said, grinning.
Hermione suddenly frowned, looking away from him.
"What do you care? You've made it clear that that doesn't matter to you," she sneered.
He sighed, throwing his arm behind her over the back of the couch.
"I want to kill Nott Sr. The very idea of it brings me joy," he quietly confessed.
She faced him with a frown, warily eyeing him.
"…why?"
"…because men like him deserve what's coming to them. He's hurting someone that means a great deal to me, and I always protect those I care about."
She swallowed, struggling to hold his piercing gaze.
"I get that, Malfoy. Really, I do. I can wrap my head around that aspect of it, but how could the thought of ending a life…," she trailed off shaking her head.
The thought made her stomach turn, and she couldn't even believe she was talking about it so casually.
"It isn't the thought of ending a life, but his life. It's about revenge and giving people what they deserve. We both know that you can relate to that part on some levels, hmm?"
Hermione looked down.
"Yeah, I suppose that I can."
She suddenly sighed.
"I should tell Dumbledore," she whispered.
She felt him begin to play with her hair.
"Why don't you…?"
"I don't know…"
"I think you do know," Malfoy said, leaning in.
She was quiet for a moment.
"I want Nott to be okay, and… I can't stop you from doing what you want, and while there's a chance you could get in serious trouble, if I tell, you'll definitely get in trouble," she quietly replied. "…and besides…"
She hesitantly looked up at him, his face incredibly close to hers.
"It's not like you're planning to hurt someone like…Luna or…Hannah Abbott. I mean, it wouldn't be farfetched to assume he's killed people, right?"
"No, it wouldn't," he whispered. "In fact, he's killed plenty of people."
Hermione nodded, eyeing him as he did the same. She ran her eyes over his face, drinking him in as the smell of jasmine wrapped around her like a blanket. He was so close that she could feel his body heat, almost feel the way his chest rose and fell with every breath he took. He glanced down, bright eyes landing on her lips, and she swallowed.
The air around them was tense, but Malfoy didn't move, and she almost cried as she realized that he was truly leaving this in her hands. She could see it on his face, in his body language, that he wanted to kiss her, touch her, but it all depended on her. Her gaze fell to his mouth, wondering to herself what it would feel like pressed against her own. She wondered what his body would feel like pressed against her own.
She'd dealt with enough scorn and harsh words, because of the rumor, so she would be well within her rights to at least make it worth it. She licked her lips, and Malfoy's gaze darkened at the motion, eyes trailing up to rest on hers. He was waiting on her, and Hermione felt a sudden fever fall over her. Releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, she turned away…like a coward.
"I should go to bed," she shakily whispered.
"Hmm, perhaps you should," he roughly agreed.
She stood on trembling legs, slowly walking towards her door. She stopped when her hand landed on the knob, and she looked over her shoulder. His gaze was focused on her, a heated expression on his features as he watched her. She opened her mouth to say something before thinking better of it and turning around, entering her room. As soon as the door was shut, she pressed her back to it, willing her body to cool down.
Hermione shut her book with a sigh, resigned to accept that she wasn't going to get anymore studying done. At least, not at the moment. She slid off of her bed, and made her way towards her door. Malfoy and his two goons were in the common area, laughing entirely too loud about something or another. It was a Friday night, so she expected them to show their faces at some point, but she'd been determined to actually study this time.
It seemed that fate had other plans.
She opened the door, leaning against the wall as they all turned to face her, laughter dying.
"I'm trying to study," she said.
"Apologies, Granger," Zabini said, still grinning, making her think that he wasn't sorry in the slightest.
"I was just telling them how I caught the weasel giving Brown an earful, today! Apparently, the daft girl won't let him breathe for a minute, and he exploded on her in front of the entire corridor," Nott chuckled, recalling the apparently fond memory.
Hermione threw him a tight lipped smile.
"That sounds…entertaining, I suppose, but believe it or not, I don't care about Ron and Lavender," she honestly answered.
Zabini stopped chuckling, raising an eyebrow at her as he smirked.
"What is this? Progress, I hear? This calls for a celebration," he said.
"Like you needed an excuse to drink," Malfoy commented as a large and fancy expensive looking bottle appeared in Zabini's hand.
Nott was more than eager to partake, but Malfoy refused.
"I'm not in the mood to get smashed, tonight," Malfoy said, eyes resting on her.
She shook her head at Zabini's offer.
"You should join us, Granger," Malfoy suddenly said, eyeing her, challenging her. "Blaise won't admit it, but they rather enjoy your company."
"Don't exaggerate. I do believe I said she wasn't horrid to be around, after all," Zabini corrected.
Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, accepting Malfoy's invitation, and plopped down next to him on the couch. She noted that they had pushed the table to the other side of the room, leaving the space before all of them empty.
"I could say the same about you, Zabini," she commented.
"Aw, shucks, Granger. You're making me blush," he dryly replied, and she chuckled.
"You know what, Nott? Why don't you tell that story again? I'm in the mood to laugh," Hermione suddenly said.
Nott grinned, leaning forward in his seat as he recounted what he saw. The rest of the night was spent watching Zabini and Nott get drunk and talk crap about anyone they could think of. They alternated from time to time, one monologuing while the other threw in the occasional comment. Sometimes, Malfoy joined in, sneering at something someone had said or done. It wasn't long before Hermione had forgotten about her revision entirely.
It was around midnight, much too late, when Nott and Zabini finally stood. They were still rambling about something McLaggen had said to them when they finally left, bidding her and Malfoy adieu. Hermione released a small chuckle, shaking her head as the portrait door closed behind them.
"Why are they always here practically every Friday? I'm not saying that I don't enjoy their company or anything, but I am curious…"
"It's quiet," was Malfoy's simple answer with a shrug.
"Surely they both have some eager girl who'd be dying to spend a Friday night with them," she said.
"That's what every other night is for," Malfoy said, chuckling as he stood.
Hermione watched him, swallowing as she did so.
"Besides, I wasn't lying when I said they actually enjoy your company, Granger…"
He looked like he was going to move the table back before thinking better of it, shaking his head with a roll of his eyes and turning away.
"Malfoy," she suddenly said.
He looked over his shoulder, hair kissing his forehead as he raised an eyebrow at her. She stood, hands trembling just the slightest as she opened her mouth. Nothing came out, and her shoulders sagged as she let out a quiet sigh.
"Goodnight," she simply whispered.
A humorless smirk made its way onto his lips.
"Night, Granger."
She watched as he turned away again, heart hammering in her chest as he began to make his way towards his room. Her feet carried her towards him before she realized it, fingers grasping the fabric of his shirt as she stopped him from going any further. He turned to face her, eyebrows furrowed as he ran his eyes over her.
He didn't say anything, and neither did she. Her eyes traced the exposed skin of his neck and collarbone, mind going a mile a minute as she did so. He towered over her, eyeing her, speculating her next move when she reached up to clasp her hands behind his neck, pulling him down so that his lips could meet hers.
They both let out a collective sigh, breathing each other in as she moved her mouth against his. She only pulled away a few seconds later, staring into his eyes as she realized that he was holding back, letting her guide. She exhaled, one of her hands falling to grasp the front of his shirt. His forehead grazed hers, teeth sinking into his bottom lip before he spoke.
"Tell me what you want…"
She pressed herself closer to him, his heartbeat coinciding with her own.
"I want you to put your hands on me…"
He did.
She gasped into his mouth when his lips descended over hers, one hand grasping her hair while the other dug into her thigh, hiking her leg up to hook it along his waist. The way his mouth moved over hers, Hermione felt like she could explode at any moment. His other hand danced down her body to grasp her other leg, and moments later, her feet weren't touching the ground at all.
Her hair spilled down her back as she leaned her head back, allowing Malfoy to graze his teeth along the expanse of her neck. She felt him drop to his knees, his lips leaving blooms of color underneath her jaw. Her eyelids fluttered, pleasure traveling through every vein and nerve ending in her body as he pulled her hips closer, grinding himself against her.
"Draco," she breathed into his mouth when it met hers again.
She felt the floor pressing into her back, and she shuddered in anticipation. Her hair cushioned her head as she watched him sit up, fingers unbuttoning her shirt with ease. She sat up to, allowing the article to side down her arms, and as soon as they were free, she reached out to return the favor.
She drank him in, fingers splayed over his chest as she tried to commit the feel of him to memory. He didn't rush her or protest, allowing her to touch him as she saw fit. He only leaned in to kiss her when she moved to push his shirt completely off of his arms, and he finished the task for her. A shiver traveled down her spine as he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into him as he deepened the kiss.
His hand danced along her bare stomach, coming to a stop at the top of her skirt. He fingered the material, leaning down to nip at the exposed skin of her chest before pressing his other hand into the floor beside her head, holding himself above her. He gazed at her, and Hermione found it weird that she didn't feel odd lying beneath Draco Malfoy, half naked as he ravished her.
"Is this what you want?"
Hermione nodded, but cut it short when he shook his head, a playful smirk dancing along his lips. His eyes were hooded with a carnal determination.
"I want to hear you say it, Granger," he elaborated.
"This is what I want," she answered, voice steady with conviction.
He leaned in, lips brushing against her own just barely enough to be considered a kiss.
"…and who do you want?"
"I want you, Draco," she whispered into his mouth.
He rolled his hips into hers, pulling a moan from her.
"…and what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to kiss me…"
"Mm hmm," he urged her to continue as he pressed a kiss to her jaw.
"I want you to taste me…"
He hummed as he reached under her back to drag a finger down her spine, causing her to arch her back with a groan, and allowing him to unhook her bra.
"I want to feel your lips on my skin for days," she sighed as he tangled his hand into her hair, yanking her head back and forcing her to arch against him.
"…and?" he breathed against her neck, lifting his head just the slightest to look into her eyes.
"I want… I want you to ruin me."
His eyes glinted, teeth winking at her as he grinned.
"Good," he purred, drawing the word out.
He leaned down to kiss her again, and it wasn't long before they made quick work of the rest of their clothes. She shuddered again as she felt him against her, the haze clearing up momentarily to let her nerves spike. Draco trailed his finger down her jaw, eyes running over her face as she panted beneath him, lips bruised and eyes bright. Her own fingers grazed his arm, her other hand pressing into his back.
"Do you trust me?"
She nodded, suddenly too nervous to speak. He leaned down, pressing lingering kisses into her neck.
There was pain…
…but it didn't last.
Everything was a cohesive blur of skin on skin, lips on lips, and his body surging into hers. She didn't know how to focus on the pleasure that he was giving her, and keep her eyes on him at the same time, because she never wanted to take her eyes off of his hypnotic form. Her fingers never left his hair, tangling them into the tresses while her other hand pressed into his back, nails painting red along his fair skin.
She remembered the night she'd walked in on him in the bathroom, how he sounded then. As much as she had tried to put it behind her, she didn't, and the noises that had left his mouth had stuck with her ever since. Then, they were for someone else. Now, they were for her. She closed her eyes, listening to the expletives that fell from his lips, fingers digging into her flesh.
Their legs were entangled, skin dewy with sweat as he rocked into her. Her lips were at his ear, whispering a jumbled chorus that consisted of praises and his name. The way he rolled his hips against hers had her toes curling, a hiss escaping past her clenched teeth. She turned her head, lips searching for his own, and as if he read her mind, he put her out of her misery, mouth meeting hers in a heated kiss.
He tilted his head back as she peppered kisses along his jaw and neck, anywhere she could reach. She wanted to mark him like he'd marked her, leaving her signature on his skin.
"Hermione," he hummed when she grazed her teeth against his ear.
She was desperate to touch him in any way she possibly could, determined to commit him to memory. She wanted to remember how he felt, how he tasted, how he sounded. She wanted to remember the way he growled against her throat when she hooked her legs around his waist, how his thumb traced patterns into her hip, and how he sang with his head between her legs.
She wanted to remember every detail of the night she gave herself to Draco Malfoy on the floor of their dorm room.
~ Let me know what you think ~