TWENTY-EIGHT
Tuesday, 7 October 1944
Hermione hadn't been sure how much time had passed before she left the classroom. What she did know was that she went back to her dorm, half-assed her assignments for the week, and then went to bed without dinner. And when she woke up on Monday, she was so distraught with worry that she retched over the side of her bed more than once.
She had waited until her room was clear and her house mates had emptied the dungeons for breakfast. Once she was alone, she cleaned up, took a fast shower, and then went to the kitchens for some toast to hopefully settle her stomach.
Feeling a tad bit better, she made her way to Transfiguration. She was early enough that Dumbledore pulled her aside to ask if she was alright. She had assured him that it was nothing and then took her usual seat and wait for Malfoy.
When he entered the room, their eyes met for a brief moment. She felt heat fan over face at the searing heat of anger in his grey eyes. She walked to their desk and Hermione only watched in agony as he continued past her to take up one of the usually unoccupied desks in the back row.
And suddenly she wasn't feeling better at all.
Malfoy didn't sit next to her in Charms and avoided her and Riddle both at lunch. By the time Potions came around, Hermione had given up all hope that he would be willing to talk to her. Instead of waiting for him after class, she made her way to the dorms and studied until she sought the kitchens for a late dinner, then back to the dorm to sleep.
Tuesday morning, Hermione decided she wasn't going to wallow. Malfoy had every right to be mad at her and it hurt much more than she ever thought it would, but she internalized as much as she could and set about to pretend it didn't affect her at all.
She ate breakfast with her roommates and when Merrythought had them partner up in Defense, she hadn't even attempted to look for Malfoy. She knew exactly where he was during their practice lesson, but she refused to look his way; despite the fact that she felt eyes on her the entire time. She just wasn't sure if they were his or Riddle's.
She had gone straight to the library after Defense to set about her homework from the previous day. After a few minutes, it was clear that Malfoy wasn't going to show so she put all of her frustrations down in ink and by the time he should have started Ancient Runes, she was nearly done with her assignments for the week already.
As she was considering packing up and retreating back to her dorm until it was time for Astronomy after lunch, she felt her red leather book warm up. She stared at it for a moment, her breath hitching with hope. Tentatively, she reached for it and flipped it open.
Hello.
She bit her bottom lip and reached for her quill. She dipped it into her ink and moved her hand over the page, but when it came to write back a response, she hesitated.
Where are you? he wrote back after some time had passed.
She snorted out loud. In the library. Where else would I be? Aren't you in class?
She only mildly regretted getting snippy with him.
Meet with me.
She scowled and chewed at the end of her quill. Whatever you have to say to me can wait until you're out of class.
I need to see you.
She wasn't quite sure what to make of that confession. As it was, she felt betrayed by her own body as her thighs pressed together. There was a certain flare of heat and a pooling in her knickers at the thought of him ditching class to meet her. It made no sense, she knew that, considering how angry he was at her.
Please.
She took a deep breath to calm herself and then put her quill to paper before she could change her mind. Only if you promise not to yell at me. Her quill trembled. If that's the case, I-
No yelling. I promise, he wrote before she could even finish her sentence.
Where?
The hidden passage across from the potion's classroom. Five minutes.
Hermione snapped the book closed and sat back in her chair. She tapped it a few times before wrenching it back open. She considered writing back and telling him no; demand that whatever it was he had to say could wait until later, but instead, she closed it again and began to pack her things. Her movements were slow, not entirely convinced that he wasn't doing this to just pick a fight. And yet, the closer she came to the corridor, the idea that he might be over his anger at her made her heart skip a beat.
She paced a few times in front of the passage, waiting until the last student had turned the corner, leaving her truly alone. When it was safe, she pushed at the entrance and crossed the threshold. Even though it was dark, she knew he was already there. Her mouth went dry and she wet her lips as she said, "Malfoy, I'm sor-"
She was cut off as he closed the distance between them and slid his mouth over hers. He pushed her back against the stone wall and placed one hand firmly on her hip, the other on her neck, his thumb pressing into her jaw to keep it lifted. There was a heat unlike anything she'd experienced before as he kissed her soundly. He swallowed every sound she made and used the parting of her lips to explore her mouth with his tongue.
They had kissed plenty of times by now, but as he was tasting her as if it were the first time all over again and it made her knees go weak. And despite the exploratory feel, there was a hint of anger in the way his lips tugged at hers mercilessly.
Her lips tore from his with a groan as his hips bucked against her, giving her an intimate feel of his arousal at her hip. His hand moved down from her throat to cup her breasts through her robes. Her head tipped to the side and his lips sought her skin immediately. The hand on her hip began to travel lower, slipping beneath her robes to skim the top of her skirt.
She sucked in a breath sharply at his action and closed her eyes at the sensation. Only a few days ago he had hinted at doing this very thing, but hadn't when she presented as unsure. She still wasn't sure, but it felt good and he wasn't asking. As if her body was rebelling, begging for her mind to shut up for once, her hips thrust forward, chasing after his fingers as they rested just above her core.
He responded by nipping lightly at her throat and let his hand dip beneath the waistband. His index finger slid against her core over her knickers and she cried out. His lips moved back up to hers, reminding her to be silent. They might be in a secret passage, but they could be easily found if someone passed by and heard them.
Stifling her cries to muffled whimpers against his lips, he rewarded her by pulling her knickers to the side and running his fingers through her slick folds. She grasped at his robes, keeping him flush against her. He increased the pressure of their kiss and she winced at both the sudden harshness and at the slight sting as his middle finger sank into her core.
It was surprising how foreign and pleasurable the action was, considering she had done this herself on more than one occasion. Had she known another's hand would have been a thousand times better than her own, she would have let him touch her when he asked to the night of the New Moon.
Without much time to process, he added another finger and Hermione bucked against him. He crooked his fingers and placed a thumb on her clit, working her into a frenzy in no time at all. Her head reared back, grinding against the stone. She tried to keep her moans of pleasure as quiet as possible, but he was relentless in his ministrations and already on the edge of breaking.
She squeezed her eyes shut as the onslaught continued. When she felt herself clutching at his fingers and a tight coil in her stomach and a tingle at the back of her mind, she cried out again for him. "Dr- Draco, I'm-"
As fast as he had pushed her towards the cliff, he had pulled her back from it by removing his hand. The moment she had said his name, he seemed to snap out of whatever spell he was under and pushed her away as if it burned him to touch her. In the darkness of the passage, she didn't realize he was leaving until light shone from the entrance, long enough for him to step out and seal it behind him.
Still on the edge of her release and more confused than ever, Hermione straightened her clothes with trembling hands and forced herself to get a grip on her emotions. When she was sure she could, she exited the passage and made a beeline for the dorms. Not bothering to look around, she went straight to her room, cleaned herself off, and collapsed into a heap onto her bed.
Hermione had skipped lunch and Astronomy; she would have skipped dinner too, but her stomach was growling something fierce. Instead of the Great Hall, she went to the kitchens and ate just enough so that she could sleep without waking to hunger in the middle of the night.
When she got back to the common room, Malfoy was at one of the tables with Riddle and his group. She watched him for a moment as he played chess with Rosier. Now that her body and mind had calmed down over what happened earlier, she was fuming. He had every right to be angry with her, sure, but he had no right to do…whatever the fuck it was he had done.
She straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, and marched up to him. "Draco, I need to speak to you," she said, trying to keep her voice from wavering.
He had the gall to not even bother to look up at her. "I'm a little busy at the moment."
"Now, Mal- Draco."
He looked at her then, narrowing his eyes and staring at her like he had for the first six years she had known him. Inwardly, she recoiled, but outwardly she stood her ground. He must have seen the fear in her eyes because he softened slightly. "Give me a minute."
She nodded and stepped away from them. She made sure she kept herself at his back so he couldn't see her gulping down breaths of air to calm herself or blinking back tears that threatened to surface. However, it wasn't easy to calm her anger; especially when he continued to sit there and play the fucking game. As if keeping her waiting was just more punishment.
Laughter threatened to bubble past her lips as she thought of all the times Harry and Ron and continued to play the same fucking game when she had something important to tell them. How they would just wave their hands at her to wait or tune her out altogether. Even on the run when she wanted to discuss a theory, they had dismissed her like it was nothing. Like she was nothing.
Just as she was about to call out his name; his real one, middle name and all, he smirked at Rosier after calling Checkmate and then vacated his seat to come to her. He slowed as he took in the sight of her pacing. He stopped when he was close enough that he could lower his voice and she could still hear him.
"Spit it out, Granger."
"Here?" she asked, looking around. Her face flushed.
"A good a place as any."
She did laugh this time, the sound coming out undignified. "Afraid you might finish what you started? Or have you gone back to your old ways and don't want to sully yourself with the likes of me?"
His eyes narrowed again, but this time, instead of anger, his gaze was full of concern. "What are you on about, Granger?"
Her lips parted with the intention of ripping him a new one since he seemed so hellbent on claiming ignorance, but her words died in her throat as she caught sight of Riddle watching them over Malfoy's shoulder. Her mouth went dry and her entire body threatened to collapse right then and there.
"Granger?"
She shifted her gaze back to him and wet her lips. "Y-you're book," she stammered. "The one I linked to mine. Where is it?"
"In my bag."
"I wrote to you," she whispered.
He gave a slight shake to his head. "I keep it on my desk in class. It never notified me."
"Did you have it out in Ancient Runes?"
"Yes," he replied, tilting his head at her. "It was out for the whole class, but I never felt it heat up."
She nodded, unable to speak as she had to clench her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. Her gaze slipped back to Riddle. Had she not been staring at him so intently, she would have missed the way one corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly and he tipped his chin down, eyes darkening. Anyone else might have missed it, but Hermione knew he was confirming her suspicions.
Her stomach rolled.
She shouldered past Malfoy on her way to the bathroom, not stopping when he called after her. She barely made it to the toilet in time to empty the meager contents of her stomach. When she was able to clean herself up, she hurried to her room and let the incident replay over and over in her mind, reminding her how stupid she had been to let her guard down around a bunch of snakes.