CHAPTER XVII
Hermione whimpered almost inaudibly at the force of the impact against her cheek. Raising a hand, she held it gingerly against the smarting area, feeling hot tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. With every ounce of remaining strength left within her, she willed herself not to give Malfoy the pleasure of seeing her crying.
Malfoy was still sitting straddled across her hips. He wore his robe although it was now bunched up around his waist, pooling in a heavy mess on her stomach. The parchment with the Yule Ball plans lay, for the moment, forgotten on the floor at the end of the bed. As Hermione looked up, still holding her cheek, and was met by the face of Malfoy. His face, although lacking his usual arrogant smirk, looked delighted about the situation. His cold blue eyes glistened as he flicked them appreciatively over her body.
Hermione narrowed her eyes, suddenly afraid of the Slytherin boy and what he might do. Attempting to free herself, Hermione wiggled her hips, succeeding only in moving a few inches up the bed. Malfoy didn't move his body but drew his knees in even further, digging painful into Hermione's hips and causing her to give a short yelp of pain.
Malfoy grinned, forgetting himself for a moment. "Where are you trying to get to?" he asked slowly, not expecting, and not receiving, an answer. As he spoke, he leant down towards her face, resting his weight on his elbows which he placed on either side of Hermione's head. He watched the Head Girl, observing her every moment.
Hermione's eyes darted from the right to the left, widening slightly as she realised what situation she was in. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a brief second before opening them to stare definitely up at Malfoy. "Get off me n-" Hermione began to say, before she was stopped. Malfoy had brought his face even closer to hers; his nose resting against hers, his face now out of focus. "Malfoy?" Hermione said, her voice tinted with uncertainty.
"Hmm?" Malfoy answered, not moving as he mumbled. "You gonna make me?" he said slowly, still looking deep into her eyes. He felt Hermione shift slightly under his weight and grinned slightly, despite himself. "I said," he begun again, "are you," Malfoy rubbed her nose lightly with his own, "going to," he tilted his head to the side, his lips hovering just above hers, "make me?" As he said the final word, he slipped his tongue out of his mouth and delicately ran it against Hermione's lips.
He felt Hermione's mouth open, in response to his actions, and instantly drew back. Still supporting his waist on his elbows, Malfoy looked down in amusement at Hermione's face. Her eyes were half shut and her lips slightly parted. Her cheeks had a healthy pink tinge to them and her hair laid splayed out on the sheet. Malfoy groaned inwardly, feeling his stomach jump as he studied her delicate features.
"No," Hermione said quietly, giving in to her emotions. She had thought she had answered quietly enough so that Malfoy wouldn't have heard. She knew she was wrong, however, when she saw a smirk creep onto his face. She rolled her eyes before looking back up at him, "oh, come on, it's not like you'd just get off me and let me leave," she said, trying to cover up her previous answer.
"Is that right?" Malfoy's voice sound uninterested, his eyes were scanning her body, quickly taking in her long slender neck and her breasts which rose and fell in time with her quick breaths. Still resting on his knees and elbows, Malfoy ducked his head and lowered his lips to her neck. As he gently licked the small triangular area above where her collarbones met, he felt Hermione gulp.
He grinned against her skin, feeling warmth radiating from her. He felt her throat vibrate as she emitted a deep groan. Encouraged, Malfoy kissed her in the same area, sucking the skin into his mouth and nibbling gently on her collarbone. Hermione groaned again, raising a hand to run in through Malfoy's hair. Using her fingernails, she scratched Malfoy's head lightly, admiring the feel of his soft blond hair as it slipped through her fingers.
Malfoy moved his head around her neck, gently sucking on the side, leaving small red marks in a trail leading up to her ear. Using one hand, Malfoy swept a few stray strands of Hermione's hair behind her ear, allowing his nimble fingers to linger on her ear for a moment. Hermione shuddered at his touch, snapping her head round to face him.
Without a word, Malfoy pushed her head forcefully to the right so that the side of her face lay against his silk bedcovers. Malfoy, hungrily, lowered his head to her ear again, sucking on the bottom of the lobe, before leaving a trail of kisses back down her neck again. He covered the marks he had made previously with fresh bites, savouring the smell and the feel of her skin.
Hermione moaned into the softness of the silk covers, enjoying Malfoy's attentions to her skin. Malfoy raised his eyes, propping himself up on both elbows again. "Like that, do you, Mudblood?" Malfoy spat the last word at her, emphasising it with every remaining ounce of disgust and hatred he felt for Hermione and her friends.
Malfoy watched Hermione's face carefully as she furrowed her brow and narrowed her eyes. "Actually," she said, pausing to catch her breath, "yes." Hermione, having removed her hand from Malfoy's hair, flung her arms outwards, knocking Malfoy's elbows and setting him off balance. Malfoy fell towards her but Hermione wiggled out of the way, just in time. Flipping him over so that he lay facing the ceiling, Hermione straddled his waist and sat with a luxurious smile painted on her face, "Yes I do; do you have a problem with that?"
Malfoy blinked, obviously still in shock from what had happened in the last few seconds. Damn Mudblood, he thought irritably as he slid his hands up Hermione's calves to rest on her hips. His intention was to lift Hermione off him, a task which would not be one of difficulty. Hermione, however, anticipated this and, placing her hands over his, whipped them above his head, holding them securely by his wrists.
Malfoy, to her surprise, didn't struggle against his restraint and was looking up at the student, a glint of mischief in his eyes. Hermione frowned in concern; what was Malfoy thinking, she wondered. As if in answer to her thoughts, Malfoy rolled his head back, nodding to his bedside table. Hermione followed the direction of his eyes and saw, on the table, a thin strip of black material.
Hermione whipped her head back round to study Malfoy's face. His eyes glittered devilishly, a sly grin creeping across his face. Malfoy looked back at her; his vision slightly restricted by strands of his blond hair which had fallen in front of his eyes. Hermione smiled, almost fondly, at the sight of him. Malfoy raised his eyebrows, studying his fellow student's face carefully. Hermione shifted her hands, leaving one to hold his wrists steady above his head. With her free hand and lifting herself a few centimetres from his body, Hermione reached for the material.
Clutching the thin material in her left hand, Hermione sidled back onto Malfoy's hips. She locked her eyes with his, draping the material over his stomach. Using one finger, Hermione drew patterns lightly onto over his robe and on top of the material. Shuffling up the bed, resting her body on Malfoy's chest, Hermione reached for his wrists. The material, held between her thumb and fore-finger trailed up Malfoy's chest, across his face and through his hair. She took one last glance down at Malfoy's pale face before wrapping the thin material twice around his wrists, tugging the ends tightly to make sure they were secure. Hermione used the end of the material to secure Malfoy to one of the iron bedposts which were stationed at each corner of his bed.
Malfoy chuckled silently. "Showing your kinky side, Granger?" he asked, in a sarcastic tone, winking as she glanced back at him. Hermione rolled her eyes and wiggled lower down Malfoy's body. Her knees dug into his ribs as she flattened herself against Malfoy. Hermione lowered her head to Malfoy's giving him a quick kiss on the end of his nose. Malfoy grunted, indistinctly, as Hermione raised her face from his.
Attempting to lift himself to her level, Malfoy found that he couldn't do much more than raise his head a few inches. He moaned loudly and fought hard against the urge to call out her name. Hermione had lifted herself off his bed and was kneeling on the bed beside him, looking at Malfoy's struggling form. Hermione grinned; oh yes, she thought, she would get Malfoy back.
Meanwhile, in his bedroom above the Gryffindor common room, Ron had walked around his room, thinking over his previous conversation that he had had with Hermione. Hermione - Malfoy - knife - Harry - stab. The words kept repeating themselves inside his head, tormenting him. Frustrated, Ron picked up his wand and threw it across the other side of his room. As the wand hit the far wall, it snapped in two and Ron groaned loudly, battling the urge to throw something else. He had only just got a new wand, to replace the one that had accidentally exploded in a Charms lesson, and the last thing he wanted to think about was how he would explain this to his parents.
Mumbling to himself, Ron trudged over to the opposite side of his room and picked up the two pieces of wood. He looked at his broken wand pitifully and pushed the two parts together, before bringing back to his bed and leaving them there. He'd think about it later, he told himself angrily, turning away from his bed and pacing the length of his room again.
Squeezing his hands into tight fists, Ron wondered whether or not he should tell Harry. Would Harry want to know exactly what had happened? he wondered, was it too soon? A sharp and loud knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Hermione, his first thought was, as he made his way to his door.
He flung the heavy door open and came face to face with Harry. "Harry!" Ron managed to stutter out his name. Harry smiled, although it obviously pained him to do so, and nodded. Ron blushed and apologised, inviting him in. He followed Harry over to his bed. His best friend stopped just in front of the bed, looking down at Ron's latest wand which now lay in two bits.
"Ron!" Harry rolled his eyes, smiling at his friend again, this time with much more ease, "what happened?" he turned to face Ron, looking at him questioningly. Ron lowered his eyes, scanning the floor, thinking quickly.
"Stood on it," he said quietly. Harry knew instantly that Ron was lying but didn't push the issue any further. He perched on the edge of the bed, looking around his friend's room anxiously. He studied, as usual, the large Chudley Cannons poster that was hung on Ron's wall. The players darted about in the air, performing elaborate moves, weaving in and out of each other gracefully. Harry drew his eyes away from the poster to look at his best friend. Ron was shuffling nervously from one foot to the other.
Harry grinned, keeping his eyes locked on his friend. "Ron, come on," he said, encouraging his friend to talk to him, "you know you can tell me anything." Ron looked up at Harry, hearing his words. He opened his mouth, about to speak, before shutting it again. He took a deep breath, searching Harry's eyes before diverting his gaze to look at his Quidditch poster. "Is it about Hermione?" Harry asked, eyeing Ron suspiciously. "Ron, tell me!"
Ron stopped shuffling again and look directly at his friend, not even blinking. "Hermione gave Malfoy the knife that he stabbed you with," he burst out without pausing. Having spoken, Ron began to pace the room again, in front of Harry's watching gaze. Harry hadn't looked away or even spoken since hearing the news. He remained watching his friend intently, thoughts running through his mind.
"Ron?" he said, watching as his best friend turned, slowly, to face him, "what did Hermione tell you?" He stood as he spoke, walking towards his friend. "Ron, don't you think I deserve to know?" Harry looked pleadingly into Ron's eyes, knowing how to get around him. He had to try hard to suppress a triumphant laugh as he saw Ron's resolve melt.
"Well," Ron began, starting to pace the room again. Harry sat down on the edge of the bed, "I confronted Hermione about the letter." Harry made a frustrated gesture and opened his mouth to speak. "I know," Ron continued, "you told me not to; but she came back from seeing you and well," Ron paused, remembering what had happened, "she came to me really."
"And?" Harry persisted, eager to get the whole story out of his best friend. He had regretted telling Hermione what he knew about her letter earlier that day. She had run off without even giving an explanation and Harry had immediately wished he could have taken back his words. He had been let out of the Hospital Wing almost half an hour ago and had gone straight to see Ron.
"Well, I had to force her … err, a bit before she told me anything." Ron shuddered, subconsciously, as he remembered, "she admitted it eventually." Ron looked back at Harry, suddenly feeling pity for his friend. This had to be hard on him, he thought, hearing that his best friend gave consent for his enemy to stab him. Harry was sitting with his elbows resting on his knees and his face looking down at the ground.
"Ron, where is she now?" Harry spoke slowly, his words full of suppressed pain. Ron's face was blank and Harry let out an exasperated fool. "She's probably with Malfoy now," he said, rolling his eyes. He jumped up from the bed, walked past his best friend and held the door open. Ron didn't move. "Come on, you know it's not her fault, you know he forced her to take that potion last night."
At this, Ron's eyes widened. "What? What potion?" Ron realised that since the night he had caught Hermione and Malfoy kissing, he hadn't heard anything more about what had happened. Harry quickly told him all he knew about Hermione's second experience with the Cochgrayne juice. Ron listened intently, shocked but not wholly surprised that Hermione had not informed him. His former annoyed feelings towards his friend passed and a new emotion of guilt and anxiety came over him.
Making up his mind quickly, he strode past Harry and began to descend the steps which led to the Gryffindor common room. He looked around, searching through the groups of students for Hermione. He spotted Lavender by the fireplace and, after making his way over to her, asked if she had seen or heard anything from Hermione.
"I think she said something about Head Girl duties," Lavender waved her hand nonchalantly before returning to the conversation she had been having with Parvati. Whilst the other Gryffindor was completely unconcerned, Ron's blood went cold at the words. She was with Malfoy, he realised and he turned back to find Harry.
Harry was waiting by the exit from the common room and was subtly pushing something into his robe's inner pocket. His Invisibility cloak, Ron guessed, a small smile creeping onto his face. When he reached his friend, they pushed open the portrait and stepped out into the main Hogwarts corridor. As they turned the corner, and making sure that no one was around, they flung the cloak over their heads and hurried in the direction of the Great Hall.
Once they had reached the Hall, they paused. This was where the Gryffindors and the Slytherins usually split paths. The Slytherins would usually wander down a smaller corridor which branched off just to their right. Heading in that direction, both boys looked around anxiously around themselves, making sure that no one was following them.
At the end of the narrow corridor, they came to a junction. Both corridors looked identical but turned off in completely different directions. Underneath the cloak, Harry turned to face Ron and whispered to his friend. "Which way?" he asked, trying to be as quiet as possible. Ron shrugged, having never seen where the Slytherins went when they reached this far. Making up his mind, Ron tapped his friend on the shoulder and pointed to back down the corridor which they had just walked down. Harry turned and looked where he was pointing.
Coming closer to where the two boys stood, were a small group of younger Slytherins. The group consisted of a mixture of girls and boys who, Harry assumed, belonged in first year. Harry listened carefully as they drew nearer to the junction, watching the group intently. One small boy who didn't look much older than ten years was walking at the back of the group, talking solemnly to a young dark-haired girl.
Harry watched as the small girl turned to gape in awe, her mouth falling open at the story the boy was telling her. She giggled quietly as he spoke again. "She was so stupid," he said, now within earshot of where Harry and Ron stood. "I just walked away, she couldn't do anything. My cousin even went to talk to her," he laughed.
"Oh, Accipiter, that's so cool," the girl responded. Harry felt his skin crawl at her voice. She spoke with a high-pitched voice, full of amusement and amazement at whatever the young blond-haired boy was saying. Harry watched as Accipiter graceful raised his arm and draped it lightly over the girl's shoulder.
"Well, what can I tell you? Even the Head Girl is like putty in my hands," the boy drawled, with an ignorant laugh. Harry felt his hands tingle as he heard Accipiter's words. He disliked the couple immediately and had a feeling he knew precisely who this boy's cousin was. It could only be Malfoy, he thought angrily.
Ron turned to face him, mirroring the emotions Harry felt. He, too, had worked out who the boy's cousin was and he had felt his blood rise when he had heard the mention of Hermione. He had almost broken his silence and stepped out from underneath the cloak to defend his friend but, at the last minute, had decided against it. He narrowed his eyes, cursing the younger boy silently, as he watched the group pass and walk down the corridor to the left.
Harry and Ron, still huddled together, walked behind them, trying to follow as quietly as possible. As Accipiter and his female friend hung back at the rear end of the group, Harry and Ron could hear their conversation as they trudged along the corridor. Accipiter had changed the subject and was now describing his latest Care of Magical Creatures lesson.
"The big oath," Ron heard him say, and clenched his hands into fists instinctively. Both boys knew, from previous experience with Malfoy, that the young boy was talking about Hagrid. Accipiter passed a few more harsh judgements on his teacher and Ron suddenly stepped forward, intending to confront the Slytherin about his attitude. Harry pulled him back just before he stepped out from under the Invisibility cloak, holding a finger to his mouth, indicating the need for silence. Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head angrily, looking from Harry's face back to the retreating body of Accipiter.
The group came to a stop outside a large painting and the foremost student uttered a word which the two seventh-years couldn't hear. The younger Hogwarts students began to climb through the portrait-hole. Harry and Ron hung back and as soon as Accipiter has clambered through, they allowed the door to almost close before they slipped through themselves.
Ron looked around the Slytherin common room, amazed at it's similarities to their own. Harry nudged his friend, indicating to the stairway. The two boys had a vague idea of where to find Malfoy's room; they had visited Hermione's enough times. As the climbed the stairs, both boys looked in wonder at the portraits on the wall. Ron laughed. "It's a wonder that they don't have a life-size picture of Voldemort up here," he joked, but quietened as soon as he saw Harry's pained face.
Walking down a corridor, Harry spotted the room that he assumed belonged to the Head Boy and silently pointed to it, creeping towards the door on tip-toes. As they reached the door, the two boys leant towards the room, pressing their ears up against the wood. Through the door, they could hear muffled sounds, which they assumed came from Hermione and Malfoy.
"Showing your kinky side, Granger?" Harry turned to Ron, his eyes widened in shock. Had Malfoy really just said that? he wondered. Ron nodded his head, not showing the same extent of surprise. Harry lowered his head and began to back away from the door. The Invisibility cloak slipped over his head, his face becoming fully visible. He turned and began to run back down the stairs. Ron followed him, calling his name, eager to pull Harry under the cloak again and afraid that they would be caught by a passing Slytherin.