Hermione was ready to throw a fucking fit, (or even the stupid coffee table in the living area) — that's just how much she had endured since she had encountered Ginny almost a week ago, four to be precise, she was counting. Thankfully, it was the weekend, so nobody had to see her in peak desperation by the time Saturday rolled in. The fact that she wasn't talking to any of her friends also helped a great deal, oddly, knowing that they won't come looking for her in the head dorm.
Hermione pressed her back against the bedroom door. While she panted in exasperation, she refused to kiss someone like him. Whatever happened, she had vowed to herself that she will not, whatsoever, stoop as low as kissing Draco Malfoy, even if that meant torturing herself and enduring that awful burn on her mouth.
"No! Shut up, Hermione!" she yelled at no one. Her hands covered her ears as she screamed, eyes screwed shut. The scream she let out was ear-piercing, she was sure Malfoy would be throwing a fit in his own room after hearing her scream. Her lips were burning and it was making her go crazy, five days alone had been a torture alone, she wouldn't fathom what would happen in the coming days.
Or you could just kiss him, he must be feeling the same way, remember?
"NO!" she yelled at herself again, this time in the mirror. All she wanted was peace, was it too much to ask? Apparently it was, Merlin, she was being punished for her friend's crimes. Just when Hermione picked up a pillow to scream into, she heard a cry from outside, undoubtedly Malfoy's. The hair on the back of her neck stood up at the screeching sound, as if someone was pouring melted steel onto someone's body, almost deafening her to insanity.
Her brain had stopped functioning by now, all that she could see was stars and darkness, her head spinning from all the screaming and the continuous burn gracing her mouth.
Hermione found herself, soon, pushing her door wide open and ramming it back into the hard stone wall behind the door. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight she was presented with— Draco Malfoy clutching his head in his hands, pulling at those platinum blond roots of his. This time, he had decided to flip over the coffee table which Hermione had been gladly thinking to do herself all this time.
But he beat her to that.
Stupid prick, Hermione fumed, won't even let me have my share of grief.
Another strong burn to her lips was enough to snap her out of the little fit she had internally thrown. Upon seeing Hermione shaking at her feet, Draco took the opportunity to throw a vase at her direction which missed her by a great deal, of course, given his current frantic state. The floral piece hit the stone wall, shattering into thousands of pieces, it sound alerting Hermione that she had just been attacked.
Well, at least had been tried to be attacked on.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO ME?!" Draco all hut yelled, if it weren't for the silencing charm Hermione placed in the dorm from time to time in case she had to argue with this prick, the whole school would've been at their door by now, demanding them to open the door so it could be cleared then and there that who killed who. Hermione cast a glance at his eyes, regretting the silver get to her, the erratic beating of her heart was practically forcing her to say ''fuck it" and smash her mouth against his but Hermione had self control, she reminded herself that Malfoy was unaware of the full after-effects of the Kiss Cam.
He didn't know that they'd need to kiss again, he didn't know that the burn won't go away until almost a month. Who knew, it could be more even. He didn't know that there was no counter spell for the formula Ginny Weasley had come up with, he was as clueless as she was in the beginning.
And for that, she didn't know if she should feel pity for him or actually guilty. Pity in the sense that he'd throw a fucking fit when she told him about the whole ordeal. Hermione reminded herself; if she decided to tell him.
However, given current circumstances, it was inevitable. Draco had to know, he just had to if Hermione wanted to get rid of this tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach. If she wanted to put herself to peace. (to hell with his peace) All these little ifs and buts calculated in Hermione's mind like it was a complex Arithmancy equation, one so complex that when she thought that she had an answer, another difficult step followed; running in an endless cycle of tasks in her mind.
"Granger," she noticed he was on his knees now, palms flat on the cold surface, his head bowed, "What is happening to me? Why do I feel the urge to—" Draco stopped before he let it slip, cautious, just like he always was. "Why do I feel...this?" He chocked on his words, finally lifting his gray eyes to meet Hermione's warm browns, a contrast so livid, it made her shudder, the depth and the intensity a single glare of Draco Malfoy held, terrified her beyond measure.
Hermione fell to her knees herself. She didn't know where this sudden vulnerability was coming from but she sure as hell knew that this feeling was stronger than the pain she was enduring, the pain they were both enduring. A series of pants escaped her mouth along with a handful amount of curses but she couldn't give a fucking toss about it.
That's what pain did to you, it rendered you speechless and made you vulnerable; all whilst crumbling you on the inside.
It was odd, Hermione noted in that faint moment, how the tables had turned— while she was in no superior position herself, the fact that Draco Malfoy was on his knees, begging for an explanation and somewhat cure to his pathetic pain and agony only made Hermione realise that if there's a rise there's also a fall, what rises must go down as well, it was the inevitable law of nature, you just couldn't function otherwise. No matter how powerful he had been or his family had been, even they couldn't help him in that time, actually no one could; it was an eye opener, a vivid one.
"If I tell you," Hermione closed her eyes, bracing herself for the worst, "You won't believe me. I'd rather not you call me a lying mudblood again." The insult rolled off her tongue like everyday words, she didn't even flinch when the word left her mouth.
Draco studied the witch in front of her for a moment, he took in her disheveled appearance— untamed curly hair sticking to her face because of sweat, chocolate eyes half closed and asthmatic breathing only to add the moon to the lonely night sky.
He didn't say anything, anything but, "Do you feel the same way right now?" it was a whisper, maybe even lower on the decibels scale than that.
But Hermione heard it, she heard it like a clean whisp of wind on a still winter night, like the rustling of leaves on an autumn day— loud and clear.
"Tell me Granger, this," he moved a pointed finger in the distance between the both of them, dragging it viciously slow from her to himself. "This, it's that camera's doing, isn't it? There is no other explanation as to why I feel the urge to, to—"
The air in his lungs had been knocked out completely when he said the next words.
"Kiss you."
Hermione was sure her mouth was drier than the Sahara right now, her throat did feel claustrophobic right now, after all. Draco, however, held a different experession— raw and extremely vivid, like you could narrate a whole story just by looking into his silver eyes.
That was the time when both of them had a simultaneous burst of pain and collapsed for the first time since the sensations had started. They both had reached their climax but neither one of them was going to back down. As both of them collapsed to the floor, their fingers touched, merely brushed even, just as they looked at their hands in union— her cold fingertips complimented his own frosty ones, it was like a missing puzzle piece.
Neither pulled away, but when Draco inched his fingers closer to her own, a teasing dance they performed as they made their way to her, from merely brushing to grasping them. Bile rose to Hermione's throat when she saw the anger in his eyes, she tried to pull her hand back but it was too late. Draco had attached himself to her like second skin.
In the blink of an eye, all still motion, Draco was on top of Hermione, careful not to touch his body with her own, as his palms flattened against the cold floor near a whimpering Hermione's head, his knees positioned him right in top of her, caging her in—quite like the last time they had encountered. Hermione dared not to speak, her Gryffindor courage had suddenly gone, replaced with utter fear.
Nobody spoke, nobody uttered a single bloody word.
They gazed into each other's eyes for almost a full minute or two, until...
Until,
Godforbid, Hermione couldn't even say it.
Until Draco dipped his head to bury his face in Hermione's untamed locks. She felt him close his eyes, with her body so still, it could be mistaken for a corpse. If it wasn't for her eyes fluttering close at the mere contact, anyone could presume her dead.
She didn't know what was happening— it all happened too fast, too fast for her to decipher anything. All she knew was that Draco fucking Malfoy had his nose pressed against her hair and that he wasn't moving, just breathing, calmly breathing. Hermione didn't even gulp when he let out an exasperated breath in her hair. She knew he'd regret it in the morning when he'll think this through but right now, there was nothing to be used as an escape route, escape from Draco, who, for some fucked up reason had found utter peace in smelling her hair.
It was tantalizingly, menacingly and wholly forbidden, so sinful, she knew. She knew, and she knew, but she couldn't push him back. It was like her feet and hands were tied together with an invisible rope, the rope of fear.
Or was it pleasure and lust?
In that very moment, she didn't know.
"It won't—" her lips quivered with the words she spoke. All of a sudden, the room felt like it was closing in on her yet, she forced tge words out of her dry mouth. "The burn, it won't— it wo—"
"Yes? What about it?" His voice was a low growl. Anyone could have mistaken it for an invitation of something else but Hermione Granger was no fool, she knew what that voice was.
It was authoritative.
It was a warning.
It was fueled by the hunger of her in his eyes.
"It won't go away until almost a month," Her voice cracked when she looked into his eyes, "You have to—" she choked, "You have to—"
"Speak, Granger, I can't take this anymore." Hermione watched how he closed his eyes tightly only to reopen them after a full minute.
Another wave must have hit him, Hermione thought to herself quietly.
Here goes to nothing.
She braces herself for it, with eyes wide and full and a heart of pure courage, she finally let out the hurtful truth of the whole ordeal to him, to the pale boy caging her like a wild animal.
"You have to keep on kissing me or it won't go away."
And then, there was silence. Only the howling of the wolves could be heard far off in the distance mixed with the heavy rain gracing the castle's rooftops, leaving a trail as it cascaded down the windows, like a beautiful pattern of a river.
The Gryffindor witch took the bold step of looking at Malfoy, this time, much closely— to check any signs of emotions or anything.
But there was none.
But reality, as God had made it, always came back to us, it had a sick way of kicking you in the shin from the front or biting you in the arse from behind— either way, escaping was inevitable. It was no surprise to Hermione then when Draco let out a barking laugh, so sadistic and vile; it made Hermione want to vomit her guts out.
With each bark of laughter, there came a twist to her wrist, twisting it to that point where Hermione had to scream and push the pick back, though it wasn't much, she manged to slightly move him, sprinting out of his grasp as she held her wrist in her good hand. "What the hell is wrong with yo—"
"No, no, no, what the fuck is wrong with you, Granger? Do you think I'll fall for this fucking ploy of yours? Do you really think I'm that stupid? That naive? That foolish ri actually believe this fucking bullshit you spew? I'm impressed," Draco circled her like a predator for meat, clapping his hands slowly, "Very impressive, I must say, you'll stoop this low to get to me, I would never have imagined th—"
"You can believe whatever the fuck you want to, you asshole!" Hermione finally lost it. Her voice was booming but she couldn't give two tosses about ripping her eardrums at the moment. "I'd never, ever, ever stoop as low as settling for someone like you." she spat with venom on her voice. "Who would? For a traitor like you? A pathetic excuse of a human being like yourself? For a coward like you? Who would, Malfoy? The thought actually scares me." she mocked with equal hatred laced to her voice. Draco merely raised an eyebrow at her, closing his eyes before reopening them, the thunder in them as clear as day.
"Watch your fucking mouth, Granger." Draco whispered agonizingly slow. He took a step in her direction and then another.
Another.
Another.
Another.
And another until he had her backed up to the wall, his face almost an inch apart from her.
"I see," Hermione smiled, "I've hit a nerve."
Draco didn't speak. There were few times when Draco Malfoy was speechless and this was one of it, in front of his worst enemy. When he was about to speak something vile again, she held up a hand, "I don't care what you believe, all I want to tell you is that I will call truce on this thing, I will kiss you if the circumstances demand because I want to get this over with, not because I want an idiot like you fantasizing about how I want something like this to happen."
Hermione was a true Gryffindor at that time, somehow, his anger had onky fueled her.
That was all she had ever wanted. A drop of courage in the ocean of cowardice to stand up.
"I will," she looked at him in the eyes, pushing him back swiftly, "Never talk about it, it's embarrassing, to me." with that, she had gone to her room, leaving a confused Draco behind, confused as to all she had said to him with a great deal of courage and bravery.
No wonder she was a Gryffindor.
"I can go without this, I don't need you, stupid Granger." he whispered to himself just as he turned on his heels to walk back to his own room, making sure to slam the door shut as loud as he could.
"What a fucking joke." was the last thing he muttered to himself before trying to seek the slumber that never came, only a burning sensation and thoughts of a curly brown haired girl did, however.
It had been a week.
A whole fucking week, thought Draco, the lain was unbearable. He had refused to get out of his room for any of his classes, knwoing damn well he'd regret it later.
He couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't, he couldn't.
Screaming into pillows wasn't helping either.
It started to make sense to him, all of what Granger had said the other night, she wasn't lying.
Dear lord, she was not lying.
That was the moment, where Draco Malfoy decided to put his blood status and ego aside, just to get rid of the fucking burn that felt, by now, like pure fire dancing on his lips. He gathered every ounce of his courage before he walked into Granger's room, luckily or unluckily, finding her door ajar, he didn't bother the formalities of knocking and saying hello, nor did he initiate any other form of conversation when he saw her sitting on her bed reading that fucking book he had always watched her read about hogwarts.
Upon catching his disheveled state of messy blond hair, an undone Slytherin tie and lungs deprived of air, Hermione knew what this was all about, a small gasp left her mouth when he walked over to her and swallowed, "Absolutely no one can know abo—"
"No one will know, you have my word." She cut in quickly, her legs felt hot and exposed in the shorts she wore, sweating now. Her gaze traveled to his lips which seemed the most inviting thing in the world right now, to her at least.
"I can't take this anymore." Draco quivered with every word he spoke. Maybe this was a very bad idea, maybe he should just run back to his room and lock himself up, maybe he should look for a counter spell, there must be something, yes, he should.
"I can't either." Hermione's hands were sweating now. She realised that this will be the first (probably not the last time though) that she was going to kiss Draco Malfoy with her will.
Oh how the mighty have fallen.
"I still hate you, Granger." He had whispered one last time before pulling her close by the thin blue long sleeved shirt she wore, teeth hit teeth, tongue grazed tongue, one soul melted into another, blissfully catastrophic it was indeed. Hermione couldn't help but tangle her fingers in his hair (which oddly enough, he didn't protest against)
Both of them could feel the burn subsidize and honestly, it was nothing short of heaven itself.
Gasping for oxygen, both pulled apart, Hermione pushed him back whilst Draco did the same simultaneously.
"I still hate you too, Malfoy. Nothing's changed."
Okay I am screaming?
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