This whole chapter is in Hermione POV. Also, it may be a while before the next chapter is up. I'm going to have a busy few weeks for a while.
Chapter 4
Hermione walked towards the large gray bed of Draco Malfoy for one reason and one reason only, other wise she would never find herself, in right state of mind, anywhere near Draco and especially not near his bed. Simply because there was a undeniable sense of longing, and a tone that begged not to be questioned. A power and strength that made her knees feel weak. There was a peculiar ring to his voice that she'd never heard before, and it vibrated through her bones, causing a distinct feeling of euphoria she previously hadn't experienced before. She appreciated the fact that his words were as clear as the laws of the jungle, holding no secrets. He offered something she would never see in Ron. Draco offered an irrefutable sense of control. His word would never be questioned by her. How could she when his entire presence was like staring at the face of an unknown creature, wise and adept? So as he spoke the words, "Come here Granger." To her with such resolute command, she found herself guided by her legs, regardless of her instincts. It was almost what she imagined being a willing sacrifice felt like. Walking towards utmost terror and facing that which is unknown with such undoubted courage it almost scared her.
Hermione walked over to him, stopping just in front of him, her feet were side by side with him, her legs in between his knees.
His eyes held hers and for a moment she wasn't sure she was even really there. Surely she was dreaming. "Granger, are you happy with your life?"
She gazed back at him and could tell whether he was being serious or not. "Well...What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what it means. Are you happy with your life as it's playing out?" His face was so pale and so stern that it was strange to see him now, looking sincere. It almost didn't suit him. His face looked like it was made to be intimidating.
She shrugged. "I don't know. How about you? Can you answer your own question Malfoy?"
He didn't hesitate as he spoke, his hands perched on both of his knees. "No."
She tilted her head to the side as she gazed down at him. "You aren't happy with your life?"
Draco shook his head. "I expected more out of it."
She sighed and reached up to her hair, with one single stroke she pulled her hair clip out, letting her hair fall down around her shoulders and back. It was giving her a headache.
She looked down to see that Draco's eyes had never left her. His eyes were gazing up at her lazily as she stood between his knees. His mouth was pulled into a straight line, his blinks steady and slow.
When he spoke she was certain she couldn't have looked away if she tried. "You know Granger, that Weasel is an idiot."
She squinted at him. "What do you mean?" Her voice was barely a whisper and suddenly the room seemed too quiet.
But he didn't speak instead he took a hand a held it out in front of him and, like a lunatic, she took it. This seemed to make him very amused, because he let lose a devilish smirk and stood, rising above her so that her nose was at his chin. She could smell him and it made her heat up in her core. It was amazing that just his smell could have such an affect on her.
He leaned down, placing his lips at her ear, causing her to shiver. "Do you still hate me?"
She shook her head slowly, giving him the truth just his once, suddenly perturbed by the fact that he was tracing small soft kisses along her jaw, then neck. She brought her free hand up to his arm, clenching it through the fine, rough fabric of his suit.
A soft laugh parted from his lips in a wave of hot air against her pulse point and he ran his tongue along it, making her feel dizzy with excitement. "Whats the matter Granger? Didn't Weasley take care of your sexual needs?"
At that moment she would have been furious with him, pushed him away and yelled at him, if she wasn't afraid that she'd be confirming his suspicions. The truth was, she had never given herself completely to Ron like this. Sure she had allowed him to touch her, and she had touched him, and they had kissed, but she had never taken Ron as a partner because she had intense fears that he was having an affair with another woman and she wasn't the kind of woman who'd allow something like that. It was why she had informed him she wanted to wait until their wedding, that was until she found out for sure that he was sleeping around.
All of these things considered, she did not move as Draco kissed along her neck in agonizingly sweet motions. He seemed to tense for a moment in her arms, before rising to look at her in the eyes. She was frozen by his silvery stare. "Don't tell me Granger..." He either had enough respect not to finish his sentence, or he was too shocked by the revelation.
Maybe it was the look in her eyes that gave it away, or her feeble presence just then, but his eyes flashed with recognition and he gave a smirk before pulling her into an embrace that was rough, but exactly what she needed. His body was hard and his arms exerted too much pressure, but she didn't mind. Maybe this was the kind of lover that he would be. Rough, but unadulterated and exquisite. "You know, as brilliant as you are," His voice in her ear as he embraced her made her bury her face into his neck as if to escape his knowing words, "You're an idiot too."
She stood for another moment in his warm arms before he pulled back a bit and turn her towards his bed. She didn't resist as he pushed her lightly until she was on her back across the foot of his bed. Maybe she was drunk? She couldn't remember if she had a drink, or how many. She could find no other reason as she watched him smile down at her in the process of taking off her shoes, then his jacket. Her heart rate increased significantly.
Her skin felt like it was on fire, and she knew every inch of her must have been pink. She was slightly out of her element as he climbed on the bed beside her, propping up on one arm, his head in his hand. He gazed down at her and as he spoke, she jumped, causing him to smile through his words. "Would you like to get comfortable?"
"No." She squeaked and he laughed. Come on Hermione, pull yourself together. This is Draco Malfoy! You can't be doing this! She gazed up at his hard gray eyes and she felt herself shiver. What are you saying woman! That's just what you are! Be a woman! Have fun. It's just one night right?
As he stared down at her, obviously amused, Hermione gave a shy smile before she opened her mouth to speak annoyed that her voice seemed to have lost all confidence. "I'm not the kind of woman who just has one nights worth of wild sex and then leaves, Malfoy."
His smile was something she'd never scene before, and also didn't expect as he gazed down at her. "I never expected such a thing." He projected an even more mischievous smirk as he continued. "Also I think you have the wrong idea. Did you think I swept you off your feet tonight just to bring you back here and make passionate love to you?" Her face went pink. "On the contrary, if I wanted to make love to you, I would already have you naked beneath me, though I have succeeded in getting you in my bed." He smirked again, and she could see the playfulness it held. It was so strange and foreign that she couldn't decide yet whether she liked it.
"Technically I swept you off of your feet Malfoy, if you want to count details."
He chuckled and slid a finger under her chin bringing her head towards his own, and her eyes as well. "You aren't being serious are you Granger? I had you swimming after one minute of dancing."
She smiled back. "But it was I who had you blushing like a bride when I asked for a dance."
He reached down and his fingers traced lazy, absentminded circles on her shoulder and they sent chills down her spine.
With another strange laugh that made her feel woozy he rolled over onto his back with her still by his side. They stared at the ceiling. "You know something Granger?"
She rolled her head to face him. His eyes were gazing above them, but they were unfocused and blank. "What?"
"You're the first person who's ever been in my room besides me."
She squinted at him. "You've never had anyone in your room?"
He shook his head. "Never."
"Not even your friends?"
"Not even my friends."
"No one but you?"
"No one but myself."
"And me?"
"That's correct."
"That seems pretty strange to me."
His voice was frustratingly blank as they laid in companionship. "Why is that?"
"You haven't had friends here, but you've had your high school enemy here." She pointed out, brushing her hand up and down her gown, enjoying the feeling of the silky fabric against the pads of her fingers.
He didn't answer for more than a moment. "I suppose. Though, to be fair on both of those counts, one, my family isn't the kind that welcomed sleepovers, and two, you were hardly my enemy."
Blank. It was amazing how he could sound so very monotonous. "You called me horrible names."
"Yes I did." His voice wasn't apologetic.
She grunted. "You still do."
He shrugged. "On occasion."
"And you threatened me."
He turned and gazed into her eyes before looking back up at the ceiling. Her eyes did the same, looking past the dark fabric hanging from his four-poster bed. When he spoke his voice was odd. She couldn't place what it was, just something different. "They were empty. I wouldn't have actually harmed you."
"Doesn't change that you were a git."
"I suppose." His hands switched from being folded over his stomach to his right behind his head and his left laying dangerously close to her thigh. "But either way you weren't my enemy."
She stifled a scoff. "Doesn't mean you didn't treat me like one."
Once again he rolled back onto his side facing her. "What are you doing Granger?" His eyes were playfully accusing and she almost smiled. "Are you trying to talk my head off? Trying to guilt me into an apology? Is that what you were doing when you asked me to dance. Try to seduce me into bed then make me realize what an idiot I was for ever being slimy to you?"
She laughed, closing her eyes and when she did she immediately felt intrusion. An intrusion against her face. A surprisingly soft touch. Something far too soft to be a touch from Malfoy. She opened her eyes again to see his hand against her face, his eyes closed like her own had been. She didn't dare move.
His fingers ghosted over her cheek, going to her forehead, then down her nose in an almost childlike way, though his hands were anything but childlike.
What exactly was he trying to do? "You really aren't the same Malfoy I knew are you?" He retracted his fingers.
He smirked, opening his eyes and their astonishing gray made her shiver. "On the contrary, I'm the very same."
She poked her lip out accusingly. "You are?"
He nodded. "Indeed."
Moving slightly, turning towards him in a mirroring pose she gazed up at him. "Are you certain? You don't act the same."
For a long moment he gazed down at her. He certainly didn't look the same. He'd definitely grown up. "Are you secretly rooting for the old Malfoy to have been eaten? Or perhaps captured by trolls."
She shook her head, "It's just that..." But she was silenced as he shook his head and put a hand over her mouth. His hand was hot against her lips. "You talk too much."
She drew back with a glare. "Oh and I suppose you aren't talking?"
Again she received a smirk. "I've never seen someone who talked as much as you. Or asked so many ninny questions for that matter."
Making a face at him she simply couldn't bring herself to speak again. She was too busy staring at Malfoy, who seemed to have become obsessed with her lips. His eyes were glued to that very spot and, unselfconsciously, she licked them. This caused a groan to part from Malfoy's own lips. "Are you trying to kill me?"
She looked up at him confused.
"If you don't stop that Granger, innocence be damned, I will not be able to control myself."
"Stop what?"
He laughed and sat up in his bed, gazing down at her. "You have no idea do you?"
And as she looked questioningly up at him, she couldn't bring herself to find in him the boy she once knew. Sure he was still rude, and short tempered, but he wasn't the same. She couldn't see the hate in his eyes, the sorrow tinting his skin a sickly gray. This was a changed man, whether he believed it or not.