A/N Sorry- the last chapter wouldn't let me publish it for some reason. I don't know if it was an error with fanfition or just my wifi, but I will now upload a few for you all at once!
Hermione placed the bookmark along the spine of her book, shutting it softly when she heard Draco barging in the room. A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was 10:00 PM- which meant he was breaking one of their seven rules.
Slipping out of bed, Hermione tiptoed into the kitchen. Draco was standing at the sink looking more disheveled than usual. His back was turned towards her, and Hermione took the opportunity to admire how his uniform fit his tall frame. His hair was getting a bit long, she noticed. It almost dusted his collar in the straight, pale blond mess that he had long since stopped combing back.
"Draco, it's late. Be a little quieter coming in, please," Hermione said, teasing him with one of his own pet peeves. .
"Hermione, you sound like a storm of elephants when you enter the room. I doubt I could've compared." Draco turned towards the girl, expecting a school uniform. He didn't expect her hair to be hanging in damp curls, fresh from her nightly shower, as per the rules. She also was wearing a thin white tank top and a pair of what looked like men's boxer briefs. "Granger, what the fuck are you wearing?" Draco asked, cruel amusement tinging his voice as her doe eyes looked up at him.
"Oh, um…" Hermione looked down at herself, blushing bright red. "I forgot. It's just a pair of Ron's old boxers. When we went camping I had forgotten pajamas and, well…" Hermione trailed off, not understanding why she felt the need to explain herself to Malfoy. She felt even more confused when she noticed his eyes darken, the silver flashing.
"You've fucked him? I thought you were the virgin type," Draco spat out before he could stop himself. The malice in his voice surprised even him and Hermione took a step back.
"N-no. I've never… I mean, what's it to you?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, anger flashing in her honey colored eyes now. Why should she have to defend herself? She advanced upon Malfoy, who looked as surprised as she felt. "You don't have a say, and I don't have to explain myself to you!" Hermione exclaimed, prodding a finger into his chest and trying to ignore how muscular it felt beneath his collared shirt.
Draco flipped Hermione against the wall, grabbing the hand she had poked him with. "I know you've never done anything, shouldn't have doubted it. Pure little Gryffindor you are, must be why he left you. No passion, no sex appeal. At least Lavender isn't a frigid-" Draco was cut off when Hermione wrestled her hands free of him, slapping him across the face.
Draco moved him jaw, surprised at how hard the little Gryffindor could slap. He shouldn't have been surprised, though. She almost broke his nose that one time…
Hermione gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "I-I'm sorry, I-" The blond grabbed both her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head. His eyes flashed, boring into Hermione's brown ones like silver knives. They slowly raked over her body, stopping on her legs.
"That's the last time you hit me, Granger." Hermione barely trusted herself to breathe, wide eyes taking in Draco's form. He ran his free hand over one of her thighs, slipping her leg over his waist so she was standing on one tiptoe. She felt every bit of him, every muscle, every hard contour pressing into her body, and she thought 'I have never been this close with anyone,' which was a stupid thought. She had kissed Ron, and been closer with him than this… it was just the tension. She could feel it like a tangible thing, winding around the two of them and pressing them together, pulling at her.
Draco felt it too, that electric buzz that he always felt with her. Only her. He forced himself away from her, slowly peeling his body from her soft, drugging curves. Usually he could hide it around her, but after coming on her name in the hallway with Rachel, Raquelle, whatever her name was… it was different. He wanted the real thing much more than he should.
"Fucking hell, Hermione," Draco whispered under her breath, watching the confused Gryffindor stand up on unsteady legs. Legs that were long and tan and felt entirely too good wrapped around his waist. He couldn't mess her up. She was too pure, too untarnished.
"Draco, I-" Hermione tried to say, but stopped when she saw how cold Draco's eyes were. How hatred filled and disgusted his gaze was. She brushed past him, practically running to her room and slamming the door behind her, sinking into the floor, knees pulled up to her chest.
Outside, she heard Draco's door slam as well. Going over to her dresser, she pulled out her journal.
Is it wrong to think that the sides are blurred? I used to think of the sides of the war as black and white, with no gray area. Now, I'm not so sure. How badly hurt was the other side? They lost people, too. The war tore apart their families, their dreams, their childhoods… How is it any different? Is the hatred between the two remaining sides going to lead to the next great war? I don't want that to happen, but I have to take responsibility for my part of stopping that before pointing the finger at everyone else. I need to learn how to forgive them before I can expect them to forgive me…
Dropping her pen and notebook back into her dresser drawer, she hesitated above the sleeping draught nestled beside her socks.
Closing her eyes, Hermione grabbed the bottle and downed it in one go, dropping the empty bottle next to her bed and collapsing on the cool sheets, not bothering to put a blanket over herself.
Draco angrily paced his floor, trying to forget about the witch one thin wall away. How did she make him lose control? One glance at him with those fiery eyes and he had her pinned against the wall. He needed to keep his cool, but that was impossible with that gorgeous, infuriating, brilliant witch around.
He should teach her a lesson, Draco thought, pressing one hand against the heat he felt on his cheek from her slap. He had to say, that was unexpected. He definitely deserved it, he mused, thinking back on his words. He had called her a passionless, icey, sexless prude. It was the sight of her in those damn boxers. Why the fuck Ron Weasley broke up with her, he would never be able to imagine. She still wore his boxers to bed, for Merlin's sake! She obviously still cared… and that's when he got a most Slytherin idea.
Storming over to her bedroom, he didn't bother knocking. He already knew how she looked in her little pajamas, after all. Pushing the door open, he took in the sleeping witch. She was turned facing away from him on top of her covers, her legs sprawled out, her ass looking so bloody tempting in those little boxers he knew were Ron's. Unbidden thoughts of him fucking the brunette while she was wearing the weasel's boxers made Draco smirk as he approached the bed, ready to shake her awake so she could heart his plan.
Before he could touch her, he noticed the bottled lying on the floor next to the bed. Picking it up, he smelled the top of it, and instantly recognized the scent from many sleepless nights of his own. It was a dreamless sleeping draught.
Why the fuck would the perfect, Gryffindor princess, need a sleeping draught to chase away nightmares and sleepless nights?
Draco stared at the girl through fresh eyes. Maybe she wasn't so perfect. Maybe he didn't have to worry about breaking her so much. Maybe she'll go for his absolutely insane plan to get a taste of her while still being in control.
He sighed, studying the sleeping girl. He brushed a curl off of her shoulder, sucking in a breath when he saw the spattering of chocolate freckles along her shoulders. It was like someone grated chocolate over her shoulders.
She smelled divine, and Draco covered her gently with her blankets. She didn't stir too much, the influence of the draught, Draco concluded. She did wrap her hands around his, bringing his hand under her cheek. The blond gently pried his hand away from her smooth cheek. He traced his fingers over her face, knowing she wouldn't wake up. The pads of his fingers pressed into her lips, pulling the lower one down to expose her white teeth.
He almost groaned. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't she be this pliant awake? He would never have to worry about losing control. But then, he wouldn't have the fire he craved either. The spark she ignited with just one look, one snarky comment. It really wasn't fair.
He thought back to their potions class. She smelled him in the amortentia. It had to be him, even if she didn't exactly love him. It was the same way with him. He didn't, couldn't, love her, but he loved the feelings he got when he was around her. It was the only time he felt alive.
Tucking her gently into the covers, he absentmindedly wrapped his fist in her damp curls. He pulled softly, forcing her head to turn in his direction. He wasn't the type to need a girl as much as he needed Hermione. He wasn't lying when he said his reasons for hating her were more selfish than his father's prejudice against her blood. He hated her because she made him lose control. She made him want to own her, and hide her from the rest of the world. She was the one and only girl he knew would never say yes to him. Every other girl he had ever met he knew he could have. They wanted his body, his money, his status. Everyone wanted something, and with a little effort, he could have any girl he wanted. Except for her.
Hermione Jean Granger wasn't impressed with his status in the wizarding world. She wasn't impressed with his money, no matter how much he had flaunted it in front of her. His body wasn't enough to get her to fuck him. Fighting, and the intelligence it required to hold his own against Hermione, did interest her. But it still wasn't enough. He would have to really put effort in if he wanted her to want him, but that would mean a relationship, and that's something he didn't do. He couldn't be in a relationship with her that was more than physical, because that would mean he really wasn't in control. Even knowing this, he couldn't stay away.
So instead of forcing himself out of her room like he should, he dragged his shirt off over his head and slipped under the covers with the brunette. She turned into him, like she was waiting for him, sighing contentedly. She nestled her head under his arm, and threw one leg over him. Stifling a gasp, Draco tried to relax. Her body pressed against him was almost too much. He felt her breasts against his bare chest with each breath she took. Her hair was splayed over his arm, curls smelling like roses and fresh air, like when he was flying over the quidditch field on his broom through a perfect blue sky.
The last thing he remembered was her breath tickling his chest as his eyes drifted shut on their own accord, something that hadn't happened since before the war…
—
Hermione yawned as she stretched after one of the best sleeps in her life. She turned over, hugging her pillow closer to her chest. Except- were her pillows usually human shaped and delicious smelling? Her eyes popped open, taking in the sleeping blond next to her. What in Merlin's name was going on? She sat up quickly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"Jesus, Hermione. Don't look so surprised, it was bound to happen sooner or later," Draco said, smirking as he lazily took in morning Hermione, drenched in golden sunlight streaming in through the window, curls spilling over her shoulders. She looked utterly perplexed. "Don't worry, darling," he said, drawing out the last word. "I was gentle. And you loved it."
Hermione caught on to what he was saying and turned more red than he had ever seen her. With the tank top, he could tell that the blush spread down her chest. "You- I- We didn't-"
"No, Princess, we didn't I was going o tell you about my genius idea, but you were already asleep."
She raised an eyebrow, ice dripping in her tone. "So you decided to sleep in my bed?"
Draco shrugged noncommittally. "Anyways, now that you're up, you have to hear my idea."
Hermione caught a glimpse of the clock next to Malfoy, and her eyes widened. "Draco, it's nine! We are going to be late to Potions!"
"It is not-" Draco turned to the clock. "Wow. We overslept. You must've really-"
Hermione cut her gaze to the shirtless blond. "Don't even THINK about finishing that thought, Draco."
Draco smirked, watching as the brunette hopped around her room, pulling her skirt on over the boxers and slipping out of them after, so Malfoy couldn't see anything. She then pulled out a pair of pink and white panties, slipping them over her legs and throwing her school shirt on over the tank top. Throwing her hair into a ponytail while she searched for her socks, she had finished getting ready in approximately two minutes.
"Let's go, Draco! What're you staring at? We are gonna be late!"
Draco shook his head slowly, grabbed his shirt and pants from the night before, slipping them back on and grabbing his book bag on the way out after Hermione. Every other female he knew took at least twenty minutes in the morning. She took two.
When they got to Potions, they were late. Hermione murmured an apology and took her seat next to Ron, sinking low in her chair. Draco saw the stares of their classmates, wondering why on Earth the two were late and disheveled together. He took his seat behind Hermione with Blaise, ignoring his friend's questioning glance.
Ron and Hermione were in the middle of a heated conversation. Hermione was talking animatedly with her hands, trying to explain why she had come in late with the snake she shared rooms with.
Draco leaned forward between the two, tucking a stray curl behind Hermione's ear. "Your bed is much more comfortable than mine. Mind if I stay again tonight?" He smirked as he watched both the weasel and Hermione turn bright red, and the heated discussion continued as he leaned back out of harm's way. Hermione HAD physically hurt him twice now. He wanted to be out of range of her fists.
After class had let out, Hermione stayed behind, obviously to talk to Draco. Soon only the professor and Malfoy and Hermione remained in the room.
"Draco I cannot believe you!" Hermione fumed. "Why would you do that?"
Malfoy smirked. "That was my plan, Hermione. Make Ronniekins jealous and maybe you have a chance at getting him back."
Hermione glared at him. "And what, you think I should use YOU to make him jealous? Why? So you and your friends can laugh at me behind my back? I don't think so."
Draco cornered Hermione against her desk, looking down into her golden brown eyes. "I promise I won't laugh. I think this could actually be a learning experience for you, Miss Princess of Purity."
Hermione blushed scarlet, fury propelling her actions. "You have some nerve, Malfoy" she said icily. "But maybe your idea isn't half bad. I COULD use some practice." She smiled coolly, unbuttoning her blouse so the top of her lacy, light pink bra was visible. As she started leaning towards him, and Malfoy thought his plan would work, she brushed past him, walking purposefully towards Professor Lewis.
The blond watched in bitter amusement as she shook out her curls from their ponytail, approaching the sexy, young professor.
Hermione was so mad she could barely see straight, let alone remember she had no idea how to flirt or look sexy. That all kinda flew out the window when Draco made her feel like a cheap, pining little girl in need of his TEACHING. The nerve that bloody git had.
She stopped in front of the professor watching as he noticed her cleavage. "Hi, Professor Lewis. I just wanted to apologize for being late. I really never oversleep. She ran a hand along her curls, hooking a finger under her skirt and allowing both the professor and Malfoy to see more of her legs. She could feel Malfoy's eyes burning into the back of her head.
The professor smiled. "It's not a problem. I know it won't happen again, right?" Hermione nodded with a smile, fluttering her eyelashes up at him. "You can call me Clarke, by the way. It feels weird to be called Professor Lewis when I'm only a few years older than you," he said, running his eyes along Hermione's body.
"Thanks so much. I'll see you tomorrow on time. Maybe even early, to make up for today if you need anything?"
Clarke looked down at the girl, wondering how she could be so smart and so beautiful at the same time. In his experience, it was usually one or the other, but he had reviewed her profile and she was the top of the graduating class. "If you don't mind, I COULD use some extra help setting up tomorrow, if you're up for it."
Hermione looked up at him, enjoying having his gorgeous green eyes locked on hers. "Of course. Eight good?"
"Yeah, that would be great," Clarke said, running a hand through his disheveled curls.
"See you then, Clarke," Hermione said, drawing out his name. Sauntering back towards the door, she brushed against Malfoy as she reached for her book bag.
"Thanks for the idea, Draco. Maybe I WILL learn a few things from CLARKE."
The blond followed Hermione out the door, grabbing her arm and dragging her around the corner. Pushing her against the wall, she dropped her book bag.
"Malfoy, what the-" She stopped talking when his lips found hers, hard and unforgiving. She gasped, glowing him to sweep his tongue slowly against her bottom lip, tangling with her own.
Draco took exactly what he wanted, biting her bottom lip as he fisted her curls, pulling her head back to give him more access. She groaned against his lips, the noise addictive. He yanked her legs over his hips, and she was supported only by the cool wall at her back and Draco's hot, hard body. She felt him pressing against her, completely helpless, both her legs tightly wound around his hips. Her skirt had ridden up, exposing her thighs to Draco's hands. He skimmed his hands down the rest of her, lightly over her breasts, unbuttoning her shirt a bit more.
He needed more. More of her soft, golden skin, more of her breathy little sighs. He wanted to own her, fuck her until the sun came up and she was hoarse from screaming his name. He needed to mark her, to ruin her. His mouth found the spot right above her collarbone, and he kissed her hard enough to leave mark, teeth scraping against her skin and tongue soothing where he had bitten. She gasped again, pleasure coiling in her stomach until she thought she would explode.
They were more than sparks. They were a fucking inferno, and Hermione needed to get out of it as fast as possible, before she forgot why it would be wrong to fuck the Slytherin Prince in the hallway. Pushing against him, she ran on unsteady legs back to their room, locking herself in her bedroom.
She walked over to her bathroom, needing to take a long, hot bath. Taking in her reflection in the mirror, she studied her thoroughly kissed lips, puffy and red, and her eyes trailed over her unbuttoned blouse. Her curls were strewn over her shoulder, and her skirt was up around her legs. She gasped when she saw Draco's handprint on her left thigh, much higher than he had a right to touch.
The brunette winced when she ran her fingers over her neck. What the… right above her collarbone, where her neck met her shoulder, was a red and purple mark with… teeth marks? He fucking BIT her? My God, and she had LIKED it. More than liked it, she had never wanted it to stop. Pain never registered, but looking over her body, she knew it should have. They were toxic together. It was an uncontrollable explosion, and she knew she couldn't do that again… he would ruin her. He would take her heart and stomp it into the ground, smirking all the while.
Draco was left alone in the hallway, stunned. Had he really just… he glanced at the two abandoned book bags, one his and one the Princess of Light's She was right to run. That was more intense than any fuck he'd ever had, and they were both fully clothed. If that was what kissing her felt like, he couldn't imagine what fucking her would feel like.
He hadn't meant to lose control like that, but watching her flirt so effortlessly with Lewis, watching his eyes rake over her body and light up with unconcealed interest… he couldn't do it. She wasn't Lewis's.
Draco had had a taste, and he wasn't about to stop now.
A/N So… I hope you guys liked it! Review, PLEASE! I promise I will continue ;)
