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Chapter 12 / The Naughty

Hermione saw him tower in the doorway, looking even taller than he already was. He looked every bit as intimidating as he had back in the time of war, his grey eyes still holding the ability to cloud over and resemble the sky during a raging storm.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" he repeated icily, taking a step forward.

She nearly backed away on instinct, but held herself together, the adrenaline caused by her flaming anger still keeping her from curling up into a ball.

"I was merely introducing your friend to the finer principles of..."

"Oh I know exactly what you were doing," he hissed in an alarmingly cold voice. "And you better stop it this very instant."

"Draco, dear..."

"I am done with the part of my life where my parent's blood dictated my life, and I will not tolerate your meddling in my personal life, nor will I tolerate you harassing friends of mine."

"You can't honestly mean that you care about this ...thing? She's a... you know... m-"

"Get. Out. Of. My. House," Hermione shrieked in frustration, banging her fist against the nearby staircase. "I will not let you stand in my home and insult myself and my parents. Leave, before I put my training to good use."

Ella looked uncertain for a moment, and he nodded at her gravely.

"I would take that quite seriously. I have helped train her myself, and I doubt you could muster up enough knowledge for a simple shielding spell in time or at all," he said in a sugary sweet tone. "Quite ironic, isn't it?"

Ella looked at him confusion as he pushed her towards the door.

"Draco, you're making a grave mistake. Our family is a very well respected pureblo-"

She was once again cut off as he slammed the door in her face, his chest heaving heavily as he turned back towards her.

"Miranda fetched me."

"She shouldn't have," she said in a hushed voice, feeling completely humiliated.

"Yes she should."

"Malfoy, it's not that big of a deal..."

"Will you stop being trying to be untroubled by everything?" he asked in exasperation. "The woman barged into your home, bothering you about getting Lola with me and was probably more than just a little bit insulting in regards to your lineage."

She wrapped her hands around herself, fighting hopelessly to keep the tears back. It had been such a long time since she felt the humiliation of being looked down upon, to be deemed unworthy of her magical peers. It was like having a closed wound ripped open, searing just as badly as it did when it was new.

She hadn't cried over this in years, and she felt silly for letting that old bat bring her to the brink of them again, but the fight against them was a losing one, and they soon broke free and spilled down her cheeks still flushed from anger and embarrassment. When his arms closed around her, she was too weak to even think of fighting it. All she did was lean into his embrace, her head falling onto his shoulder as she cried silently. His warmth enveloped her, comforting her along with his hands running calmly up and down her back.

"Are you alright?" he muttered against her hair.

"No," she gulped, getting frustrated by her own lack of control. It was as if Ella had unlocked everything inside of her. Every hopeless, worthless thought pushed her tears out and down onto his shirt.

She heard a muffled "hang on", before the familiar sensation of being pushed through an invisible tube sent her to the middle of his living room.

"Please, Granger, don't let that horrible excuse for a woman get to you like this," he said, taking her face into his hands and forcing her to look him in the eyes. "She's clueless. All she has to care about is her pure blood, because it is all she has achieved in life. It's all she has to boast about."

She felt his light touch on her cheeks, not even blinking as he held her gaze firmly.

"She hasn't seen blood been spilt, seen how it's just as sickeningly red no matter who it came from. She has never fought for a cause worth fighting for, never sacrificed a thing in her life for a greater purpose. She knows nothing about the worth of a human life, knows nothing about standing united together, about the loyalty and sense of belonging it produces."

He traced a tear with the back of his thumb, as if mapping out its journey.

"Granger, don't you see that it's all ignorance? They don't know. They just don't know that who you choose to be and what you choose sacrifice everything for is so much more important than what you were born."

"Were you ignorant?" she asked softly, not daring to move an inch in case his soothing touch disappeared.

"I was the most ignorant of them all," he said, a grim smile passing on his lips. "I was never faced with choices, until my 6th year when I was forced to make a decision so huge it nearly crushed me. My blood could not help me, my genes could not help me. Only my choices and other's sacrifice could help me. Dumbledore sacrificed so many things, Snape sacrificed so many things... Just to prevent my decision from making me a cold-blooded murderer."

"So you learned to sacrifice."

"I learned that my sacrifice was all I could give. And in the end, I gave my relationship with my family to help give our world a second chance," he muttered. "Blood is a triviality in comparison to what we all, in unison, gave in our fight to save what we all treasured."

"There really is more to you than that dimwitted expression of yours give you credit for," she said, a ghost of a mischievous smile flickering across her lips.

"My dimwitted expression?! You little witch," he growled, hopelessly grasping after her as she wriggled out of his grip.

She laughed noisily as she raced up the stairs, knowing he was right on her tail. The first door to appear was on the right, and she darted inside, realising too late that it was his bedroom. She tried to barricade the door as she heard him coming up the stairs, but she didn't have much of a chance. Her decision was to back away, and only barely managed to do so before the door burst open.

"Rude little witch," he said, a small twitch at the corner of his mouth giving him away.

She grinned at him, putting up her most innocent expression.

"But no worries," he proclaimed, closing the door behind him. "I have the perfect punishment."

Her eyes widened at his words, a flicker of worry licking across her chest like a scalding tongue, making her heart beat at enormous speed.

"After all, the score is not settled, is it?" he smirked, coming closer. She did not budge. "I am the only one who has been blinded, am I not?"

She swallowed and nodded, then gasped as a muttered spell rendered her blindfolded in a matter of seconds. Her breathing became shallow as she listened intently to his footsteps, coming closer, then backing away, thudding against the wooden floor. She managed to avoid a startled jump as his breath tickled her ear quite suddenly. His lips were barely touching it as he spoke in a low whisper.

"Your turn."

Slightly confused, she was about to voice her question, when she was suddenly rendered quite speechless. His lips had moved from her ear, traveling slowly downwards, barely touching her skin as they went. Her question had vanished the exact moment they made contact with the tender flesh of her neck, the soft warmth of them setting every inch they touched on fire. The low moan escaped her involuntarily, the loss of her sight heightening the exquisite torture of his touch. She felt him grin wolfishly against her neck, the tip of his tongue drawing circles on hot flesh.

He muttered again against her neck, "Your turn."

Oh... BUGGER!

She clapped her hand over her eyes, praying to God what she saw was just because of the groggy state of mind you always had as you left a particularly vivid dream. But, alas, the silk sheets were still wrapped around her naked legs, a voice not her own was still humming tunelessly in company with running water and the distinct smell of male cologne seeped from the adjoined bathroom.

Her fingers parted slightly and she peaked between them in uncertainty, but could not see anyone nearby. She felt disoriented and dazed, and not to mention confused. Removing her hand from her eyes, she pulled up on her elbows, looking around in growing concern. It was when the humming turned into singing that the voice triggered memories from the previous night and she closed her eyes in comprehension.

Images flashed before her eyelids; The two of them wrapped together, nails scratching, unmistakable noises resonating through the air of his bedroom, hands roaming with no boundaries. Everything had been so intense, and just so much more than she could ever have imagined. But she could not hide the fact that she felt ashamed. Weren't they supposed to be friends?

She couldn't face him, not now.. not like this. As she heard the water being shut off, she wrapped the sheet around her naked body, flung herself out of his bed and darted towards the door. To her relief, she got out just in time. She hadn't had time to search for any of her clothes, but the emerald silk sheet was doing just fine at the moment, as long as she kept it out of the way as she sprinted down the stairs.

Her plan was to bolt for the front door in a desperate escape, but she came to an abrupt halt at the bottom of the staircase, her wavering gaze having caught something quite unwanted under the embarrassing circumstances.

"I'm a bit confused. I think he's usually the one to sneak out the morning after," a dark haired man commented, having turned towards his shorter companion.

"I had that distinct impression, yes," the reply sounded, rather amused, from the second inhabitant of the living room.

Hermione's mouth stood agape, not a single sound able to pass her lips as the shock spread to every muscle, rendering it numb and useless.

"Granger, you bloody coward," his voice thundered from upstairs, and panic added itself to the whirl of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

But there was no time to run, no time to escape. She could only watch in horror as he came darting around the corner from his bedroom door, and saw her standing at the bottom of the stairs. What he could not see from his angle, however, were the two amused bystanders further inside the living room.

"I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave and noble, not cowardly and spineless. You couldn't even be bothered to fetch your clothes?" he bellowed as he started descending the stairs, wearing nothing but his jeans.

"You worthless piece of ferret arse," she cried back, overcome with embarrassment.

"That is not even close to what you were moaning in my ear last night, love." He smirked, and then mimicked her low purr of Draco.

Her cheeks blazed, and she wanted nothing more than to run for her life.

"Are you determined to embarrass me completely?" she asked coldly, giving the two blokes a quick glance where they stood, staring wide-eyed at the scene unfolding.

"Embarrass you? I've seen you blind-folded and naked, I doubt you could be more exposed," he commented as he reached the foot of the stairs.

Hermione put her head in her one free hand and groaned unhappily, and was immediately preceded by load guffaws of laughter from the two onlookers. His head snapped up immediately, and his eyes widened as he found a larger crowd of occupants than he expected.

"What in the name of Merlin," he exclaimed, moving discreetly sideways towards Hermione. "Steven, is there any particular reason why you're in my house... quite... uninvited?"

"We just came to check on you, mate," the one presumably named Steven replied.

"Yeah, you ran off so suddenly," his friend continued. "We just wanted to see if you were alright."

"But apparently, you're more than just alright."

Draco rolled his eyes, and she felt his hand on her hip pushing her further behind his back.

"We were wondering where you ran off to," one of them said, giving a short laugh. "And it seems to have been a damsel in distress."

His friend grinned broadly. "A quite willing damsel, by the looks of it."

"Hey!" Hermione boomed, her voice signaling that she did not take it lightly. "You might be used to dimwitted pushovers who couldn't care less about you degrading them, but I don't intend to stand for it."

It must've looked quite ludicrous, standing there giving them a moral speech with Draco's bedsheet wrapped around her otherwise naked body. But they both looked quite stricken, and it was evident that they realised she was not someone to mess with.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

"He's a nice lad. Just a bit cheeky," Steven said with a warning look towards his friend.

Her face softened slightly, knowing it wasn't meant to offend her. She turned towards Draco with an apologetic grimace, but what met her was a look of unmistakable pride.

"Well, Granger. These are my – very polite and well-mannered – friends; Steven and Alwyn," he said somberly. "Steve and Al, this is know-it-all bookworm.. I mean... Hermione"

She scrunched her face into a grimace and stuck her tongue childishly out at him.

"Yes, thank you, Mister Arrogant Snob," she retorted, hoisting the sheet further up on her chest. She gave a wry smile. "If I'd know you had invited people over, I would have dressed up for the occasion."

Her comment was met with appreciative snorts of laughter from the two visitors and a familiar smirk from the man half covering her from view.

"... Or at least put on clothes at all," she added as an afterthought, earning more amusement from his friends.

"Well, it's our fault for just barging in," Al said, his tone somewhat remorseful.

"Oh, no. I was just about to leave anyway," she assured them, moving out from behind Draco.

His reflexes were too fast for her, and he grabbed onto her wrist, holding her back.

"I was thinking I'd make breakfast," he said, catching her eyes for a fleeting second.

That was something she had no intention of enduring. An awkward breakfast with her one night stand, who happened to also be her friend née enemy. It was simply too complicated.

"Some other time,€" she promised, and then blushed when she realised what she had implied.

He rose his eyebrow, making her eye him sternly, trying to get across that she had no intention of repeating it. He gave a low chuckle before he released her and gave her rear a light pat. She gave a surprised shriek before swatting him in return. To hold back her laughter proved quite impossible, and it trilled out before she knew it. He smiled warmly at her as she waved to the other two, turned on the spot and apparated into her own living room.

Later that day she was quite appropriately dressed, but her thoughts were no where near appropriate. Her mind kept revisiting certain activities, and now that she had some distance from it all, she was rather perplexed. If she was perfectly honest with herself – something she had gradually been forced to be throughout the day – she had never felt or done anything like it. It had been a simple act, no fancy tricks or moves, but somehow it had moved her more than anything else ever had. There was something about him; something so intense, something in him yearning for intimacy.

What had gradually entered her thoughts, and against her will at that, was something so profusely scary that she tried to block it out as much as possible; It hadn't been just sex, it had been way more intimate. It wasn't meaningless. It could hardly have felt more meaningful, in fact. And that was something she had issues accepting, because she had told herself from the very first kiss that whatever they had was just friendship. Even this morning, she had been entirely sure that it was friendship, nothing more and nothing less. But to say that she had doubts about this now would be an understatement. When she had talked to Ginny over the floo, all she could think about was his piercing eyes. When she read a copy of the Daily Prophet borrowed from Miranda, her mind dwelled on his hands, his smile, the way he touched her, physically and mentally. When she tidied the house, the smell of him overpowered everything else, the memory of him on her making her lightheaded.

It was daunting. No, actually.. it was absolutely horrifying. Being with Ron had been scary enough. A romantic relationship with him had been uncertain territory for her, something she didn't know all the answers to. They had to make it up as they went, take things as they came along, and in the process they had made a number of mistakes. She knew their relationship had been dysfunctional, on many levels. Sometimes it had been more like a strong friendship than anything else, and she had, from time to time, wondered if that's what it was meant to be.

Ron's infidelity had only been the last mistake in a long line of mistakes, and it had been one she couldn't get past. Such a strong betrayal of trust was something she couldn't forgive, and definitely not forget. But even through all the mistakes, she suspected that being with Draco would be even more difficult than being with Ron had ever been. They pretty much always argued, other people would never accept them, he had no wish to return to London and they would soon be separated. Getting even the slightest of feelings for her ex-enemy would mean trouble, major trouble. But she never knew trouble could be so sexy.

A/N: Thanks everyone for reviews. I can't believe I actually reached 100! It's amazing :D I love you people! I don't have time right now to name everyone who reviewed on Chapter 11, but you know who you are and I am so e-hugging you right now. :P

Sorry about skipping the good parts :P I am just a very bad smut-writer, and decided to rate this one T. If you think the content is too 'steamy' for the T rating, let me know and I'll change it to M. I haven't written anything graphic about sex, but there are mentions, so I want to know if people find too much for the rating.