CHAPTER XVI
Hermione shivered in her sleep; she could feel something gently prodding her stomach and she turned onto her side in an attempt to escape the intruder's hands. A loud hiss as he fell to the ground told Hermione the invader had been Crookshanks. Hermione sighed and pulled herself up into a seating position. She rubbed her eyes as they adjusted to the light; they still felt puffy from her burst of crying earlier.
Hermione squinted at the clock that lay beside her on her bedside table. She gasped involuntarily as she noticed the time. She only had ten minutes to get to the Slytherin dormitories to meet Malfoy. She jumped up from her bed, cursing under her breath for allowing herself to fall asleep, and pulled on a plain black robe. She tugged it roughly over her shoulders and, glancing in the mirror, pulled her hair out of its band and let it flow freely over her shoulders. She ran her hand systematically through her thick hair before walking back to her bedside table.
Her wand lay next to her bed. She leant over and picked it up and, as she reached to put it into her robe's inner pocket, Hermione froze. She pulled it out again and looked at it closely. After much thought, she threw it down on the bed and turned to leave her room, her robe billowing out behind her.
She ran down the steps two at a time and left through the portrait hole silently and unnoticed by the Gryffindors who were still gathered in the common room. Making her way through the silent corridors of the castle, Hermione shivered and pulled her robe closer to her body, feeling a slight breeze around her. She reached the Slytherin area relatively quickly, although she knew she was late for meeting with Malfoy.
She muttered the Slytherin password and slipped into the common room. She frowned; the room was deserted. A few tables that were scattered about the room had bottles on them, others had chess sets lying, discarded, on them. The chairs had been left arranged around the tables and Hermione, spotting a large armchair, sat in it, facing the fireplace, a confused expression on her face.
Hermione rested her head against the back of the chair. Her eyelids began to droop and she could feel her head rolling onto her left shoulder. She could feel her body relaxing as she gradually began to fall asleep. She was suddenly aware, in her barely conscious mind, of a warmth on her right shoulder. Subconsciously, she shuffled in the chair, exposing more of her body to the warmth. As her head dropped to her shoulder once again, the side of her face fell against a soft, warm hand.
Hermione jumped and her eyes sprung open. In front of her knelt Malfoy; his pale pointed features were softened by the dim light and his hand lay gently on her shoulder. Hermione opened her mouth and tried to speak; "I … what, err … where?" Hermione gave up, closed her mouth and took a deep breath before trying again, "Malfoy!"
Malfoy looked smugly amused by her confusion. He rocked back on his knees, removing his hand from Hermione's shoulder. "Welcome back to the real world, sleeping beauty," he said sarcastically, standing slowly. Hermione watched him intently, longing for the feel of his hand against his skin again.
Malfoy stood and turned away from her. Hermione immediately jumped to her feet, chasing after the blond-haired boy. "Where are you going?" Hermione pouted as she spoke but instantly turned her head away from Malfoy when she realised what she was doing. He was looking in the other direction, however and didn't see her. "I mean, well, where are you going?" she asked again, feeling her face grow hotter.
Malfoy turned slowly until he was facing her directly. "Well," he said, a smug smile tugging at his lips, "we need to discuss … things, and anyone could walk in here." Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. Torn between emotions, Hermione didn't know whether to slap Malfoy for his cool confidence or whether to follow him obediently. In the silence that followed, Malfoy allowed his eyes to wander. He looked at her face which was flushed a subtle pink shade. The dim light of the fire accentuated her cheekbones, her eyes sparkled in the dancing flames and her lips were moist and slightly parted.
"Well, come on then, let's get this over quickly; I've got things to do, you know," Hermione spoke urgently, a bright shade of red creeping up onto her cheeks. Malfoy almost grinned; Hermione spoke as if she was battling with herself; the potion had definitely been more successful this time, he thought gleefully. He glanced at Hermione one last time, before he led the way up the stairs.
Just like the Gryffindor dormitories, Malfoy's room was up the stairs to the left. Hermione glanced wistfully at the other set of stairs. Somewhere past those stairs, lay the rooms that accommodated the Slytherin girls. Somewhere, probably in a warm, comfy bed, lay Pansy Parkinson, Malfoy's girlfriend. Malfoy's girlfriend, she repeated in her head. "Malf-" she began, snapping her head back in the direction that she was walking.
"Pansy's sneaked out to Hogsmead with some of the seventh-years." Malfoy answered, sensing what she was going to ask without even turning his head. "You know what us older kids are like," he teased her. Hermione opened her mouth to reply that she would not allow the Gryffindors to act in such a way but closed it again, quickly, remembering how she had allowed Ron and Harry to sneak through one of Hogwart's secret passageways into the nearest wizarding village.
Malfoy smiled to himself. He had known of Hermione's two best friend's late night excursions to Hogsmead and also knew that Hermione desperately wanted to prove that she was in some way better than him. He had realised that when he had told her of Pansy's trip, she would want to deny that she had not let her House do the same thing. From her silence, Malfoy gathered that she had been lost for words. "Just up here," he said eventually, walking up the final few stairs to the uppermost floor of the tower.
Hermione followed silently, looking at the stone walls of the tower as she went. It was almost exactly the same as the tower that lead to the Gryffindor dormitories. On the wall were hung various pictures which were framed in different shapes and sizes. Hermione looked carefully at each of the portraits as she passed them, recognising some of the faces from various textbooks that she had read over her years at Hogwarts. The faces that she recognised had attended Hogwarts when they were younger and had gone onto become great wizards. Gretagar Smyslinkle had, upon finishing her time at Hogwarts, become the editor for Dark Day Times, a weekly magazine that focused upon the methods of the world's darkest wizards. Jason Werthuly was walking in his frame, pacing the length, seemingly reciting lines. "Actor," Malfoy said simply, turning to look at Hermione who had paused to gaze at the former Slytherin who was oblivious to their presence.
At the top of the stairs was a large frame, which covered almost the entirety of the wall. In it, a tall wizard looked out at the two students, glaring at them with emotionless black eyes. His face was contorted into a frown which gave his whole face an expression of secrecy and deceit. Hermione couldn't hold back a short gasp. She was looking into the unblinking face of Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of the school.
Malfoy stopped, without turning, knowing that Hermione was captivated with the portrait of the wizard. When he had been up to her room, Malfoy had noticed the large painting of Godric Gryffindor, founder of Hermione's House. His attention had immediately been captured by the strong wizard who held a shining silver sword in his hand. Smiling in memory of that night, Malfoy turned slowly and walked back to where Hermione stood. He, too, looked at the portrait, admiring the way that the tall Slytherin stood.
"Another girl, young Malfoy?" Salazar spoke slowly but clearly, his voice echoing down the corridors, "quite a habit this is becoming, isn't it. Just like your father." Malfoy straightened his back proudly at the mention of his father. He had heard of his father's ways when he was at Hogwarts. It had been were he had meet his future wife but that hadn't stopped him inviting numerous girls to his room.
He suddenly remembered Hermione's presence and flicked his eyes over in her direction, turning his head slightly. She was looking back at him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What?" he said, rolling his eyes to protest his innocence. Hermione made an inaudible noise which Malfoy didn't ask her to repeat. Instead, he took her hand in his and, glaring at the portrait, led her down a narrow corridor.
They passed a large wooden door, on the right of the corridor, which Hermione knew to belong to the male Slytherin prefect. There was a similar door which lay on the left, that she knew instantly led to the bathroom which they all shared. She followed Malfoy, knowing where he was leading her. His bedroom, like hers, lay at the end of the corridor. He dropped her hand from his when they reached the door.
Malfoy fumbled inside his cloak, searching for his key to the door. Finding it, he inserted it into the brass lock, turning it slowly, and pushed the heavy door open. He stepped inside the room and held the door wide open for Hermione. Hermione took one step, froze at the doorframe and, taking a deep breath, proceeded to enter his room. After she had walked through, Malfoy let go of his grip on the wooden door, allowing it to slam back into it's place.
He studied Hermione's face as he walked past her to reach the large window at the opposite end of the room. The room was dark, the candles which would normally light it up, had not been lit, and the only light came from the silver rays of the moon that had crept in through the window. Hermione stood still, her eyes darting around the room, taking in every detail. Malfoy, when he reached the window, drew his gaze away from her and stood in the centre of the frame with his arms gripping the wall on either side, looking out.
Hermione still didn't move. She had known Malfoy had been watching her as he had moved around the room. She was amazed by what he had done to the room. Both the Head Girl and Head Boy had separate rooms to the rest of the school. Each House accommodated for these additional rooms, although some were kept unused if the Head students didn't come from their Houses.
Hermione's room was the same as Malfoy's in shape and size but, for some reason, she felt as though it was so much larger than hers. Scanning the walls, Hermione saw various posters. In one, which was hung on the wall opposite the bed, a young girl was posing in different positions. She was wearing thin clothing and, when Hermione looked closer, she blushed red. Recovering quickly, Hermione rolled her eyes; she had seen that Ron had had a similar poster last time she had been to his house. It wasn't hung on his wall, but she had found it, under his bed, when she had accidentally dropped an earring there. She had been shocked at the time, although she hadn't mentioned it to her best friend. Now, however, it seemed much more fitting that Malfoy should have such a poster on his wall.
Hermione averted her eyes and focused upon the silhouetted figure of Malfoy. He was still standing with his back to her. Hermione walked slowly over to the window and stood behind him. Without thinking, Hermione extended her arms and placed her hands on his hips. Malfoy didn't move, didn't even make any sign that he had acknowledged her close presence. Hermione slowly crept her fingers around to the front of his body and clasped them tightly together around his waist.
Malfoy shifted slightly and, bringing his right hand down from it's perch, he clasped it gently around her own fingers. She released her grip and allowed Malfoy to entwine his fingers in hers. He sighed and lowered his head, looking at Hermione's delicate hands and long slender fingers. He drew his hand away from Hermione's and ran two fingers gingerly up the length of her arm and back down again.
Hermione dropped her hands and pulled them back slowly around his waist. She drew a sharp breath before walking around Malfoy to stand in front of him. She stood with her back leaning against his chest. She, too, was now looking out of the window, at the clear view his room had of the Hogwarts grounds. As she looked out, she felt Malfoy's hands around her own waist and his warm breath against her ear.
His grip tightened around her stomach and Hermione rolled her head back, allowing Malfoy to nuzzle close in her neck. Malfoy rubbed his cheek up and down her neck before planting soft kisses up it, stopping just below her earlobe. Hermione turned slowly and, raising her arms, wrapped them gently around Malfoy's neck. He kept his arms around her waist, holding her tightly to his own body. Hermione rose so that she stood on tiptoes, lifting her head slightly and drawing his face towards her own.
Malfoy lowered his head until his nose was only millimetres away from Hermione's. He looked into her hazel-coloured eyes before tilted his head and pressing his lips against hers. He felt Hermione's lips part underneath his and, taking his time, he moved his tongue gently across her top lip. He felt Hermione wobble slightly against his chest as he moved hand so that it entangled in her thick hair.
The slipped his tongue between Hermione's teeth and flicked playfully with the end of her own tongue. He felt Hermione's mouth vibrate gently as she gave a soft moan of appreciation. Drawing back from Hermione, Malfoy opened his eyes and looked down at the petite girl who stood in front of him. Hermione's eyes were still closed, her eyelids resting gently. Malfoy smiled smugly, before removing his hands from her body and walking to a desk which had been placed against the far wall.
Hermione's eyes flew open as she realised that Malfoy had removed his hands. She looked around the room and saw him over at his desk. Slowly, she walked over to where he stood and, feeling a little unsure of herself, watched silently as he rifled through a drawer, obviously looking for something.
Hermione studied his face carefully. Malfoy clenched and unclenched his jaw as he sifted through a wad of papers that lay in the drawer. His cheekbone's, in the moonlight, became a prominent feature of his face, and his eyes shimmered dangerously when the light caught them. His hair, normally slicked back, fell in front of his face, knotting in front of his eyes as he bent his head to look into the drawer. In one moment, Malfoy used his hand to push the strands of hair out off his forehead and turned to face her, holding a couple of sheets of parchment.
Malfoy froze as he saw her looking at him. "What?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. He winked at Hermione, teasingly, before handing her the topmost sheet of parchment. "Our initial plans for the Yule Ball," he said matter-of-factly, before walking over to his bed and sitting in the centre of it, watching Hermione closely.
Hermione had taken the parchment and had looked at it, reading only the title Yule Ball. Suddenly she had remembered why she had come to meet Malfoy that night. Malfoy had left her side to sit on the bed and Hermione followed him. Perching lightly on the edge, Hermione felt a surge of blood flow through her body.
Malfoy, noticing that Hermione had sat as far as possible from him, shuffled closer to her. He saw her jump as she noticed his close presence and withheld the urge to laugh. To test her, Malfoy leant over her lap to reach his bedside table. "Wha - … um, Mal-" Hermione spoke breathlessly as he drew back and sat upright again, holding a quill and his wand.
"Yes?" he asked, not expected an answer, as he pointed his wand at the quill, muttering a few words, to make it full of ink. "Here," he said, passing her the quill, "if you want to add anything." Instead of moving away from her, Malfoy moved even closer. Hermione kept her head bowed, blushing furiously as she read the words scrawled onto the parchment. She could feel Malfoy's eyes watching her intently as she read.
Hermione eventually finished what he had written and looked at him, surprised by how close his face was to hers. Although she knew he had been watching her, she hadn't guessed that he was sitting with his face only a few centimetres from her own. "I … err … great." As Hermione spoke, her gaze dropped from Malfoy's eyes to his lips. Embarrassed, Hermione smiled shyly, looking up pleadingly into his eyes.
"So, that's it then? Smart dress – posh-sounding food – general music," Malfoy spoke slowly, pausing after each idea to study Hermione's face. Hermione flickered back down to the parchment as she read his ideas again. It seemed he had dropped the idea of having a themed night, something which had been common for the past few years. She realised, with a pang of guilt, that she had left Malfoy to plan the event on his own. How had that happened, she wondered, before she remembered, the Quidditch match.
Malfoy had watched her silently, allowing her time to think. He saw her look back down at the parchment and noticed that, after a while, a distracted look came over her face. He could sense that she was going to provoke an argument with him and, to stop her doing so, he leant over even closer to her and, pushing gently on her opposite cheek, turned her head to face him.
He tilted his head very slowly, bringing his lips closer to hers. His hand moved from her cheek, up to her ear, and gently gripped her long hair. He stopped when he had almost reached Hermione's lips and widened his eyes to look at her. Hermione's eyelids were drooping but she wasn't encouraging him to continue as she was earlier.
Without another moment's hesitation, Malfoy moved his head forward, capturing Hermione's soft lips in his. He felt Hermione attempt to shake him off by pulling her head back. Malfoy tightened his grip on her hair, making her gasp in both shock and pain. He took this opportunity kiss her forcefully before pushing her onto her back. Hermione didn't move, didn't even make a sound as she fell back against the bedcovers.
"Well, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" he asked in a tone of voice that clearly indicated that he didn't care. Hermione gulped and didn't answer, choosing, instead, to stare at the pale-headed boy that was towering above her on the bed. Malfoy, although not expecting her to answer, suddenly felt his cheeks flush with anger.
Never letting his eyes stray from Hermione's face, he clambered on top of her, straddling her hips. Hermione's eyes widened as she felt his knees tighten around her, squeezing her waist sharply. She felt her breath catch in her throat as Malfoy raised a hand to her face. He used the palm of his left hand to gently caress her cheek, running his slender fingers over her feminine features. He felt Hermione relax under his touch, a glazed look coming over her face. Without any warning, Malfoy removed his hand and slapped Hermione smartly across her cheek.