This one is the shortest chapter I've written for this story and I lied, it isn't going to change the rating. I got to the moment and felt like it'd be pushing it too much to make them hot between the sheets, though that would be steamy. Sorry chaps, but I'm going to keep it slow to grow. I like it that way. It's always fun to see the relationship grow. sorry it's so short. Review and tell me if you're angry or happy about this chapter!

Disclaimer. I do not own.

Chapter 13

After the initial shock that his lips were suddenly on hers wore off, Hermione opened her eyes only to gaze at his eyelids. His eyes were closed and he was still kissing her slowly, in fact he was barely moving. His lips were simply holding hers firmly. She wasn't sure it was what she expected.

Why was this happening to her, and between them of all people? Why is it that she found herself in this position with him?

She attempted to remove her chin from his fingers, but they tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough that she couldn't move. His lips parted slightly wider and the warmth of his mouth increased as did his pressure and with it, a flood of telling emotions.

At that exact moment she realized that she didn't want to move. She didn't want to break the spell. Maybe it was because she didn't know what he'd do afterward, or herself either, but she did not want to make him stop.

Along her spin she felt tingles, as he brought his hand to it and began with his absentminded doodles. His fingers traced the bumps of her spine so softly she shivered and in stark contrast to his gentle touch, his lips moved harshly against hers. She knew this. This wasn't the kind of hesitant, exploring first kiss she was used to. This was passion. His lips were covering hers with intention. An intention that scared her.

That's when she pulled away, and this time, he let her. His hands dropped like dead weight. "Malfoy..." She breathed quietly, unsure of what to say. His eyes seemed unwilling to find hers, as they stuck to her lips. "I don't know what you want."

For what felt like an eternity, he simply gazed at her lips, his eyes unfocused and his blinks were too far and few in between before he spoke. And just like that he stood. "I don't know what you want from me either."

She sighed. "You first."

He smirked and though he looked reluctant he sat upon her big blue bed. "I already told you."

"So tell me again." She told him, her voice more annoyed than she meant it to be.

"I want to stop dreaming about you. I want my mother to stop trying to run my life like I'm still a child. I want a big cup of coffee. I want you to stop bouncing back and forth between happy, compliant Hermione," she sucked in a breath at his use of her name again. "to angry, bitter Gryffindor Granger." He looked up at her for the first time since the conversation started. "I want to be filthy rich again. I want my old manor back. I want to know if you want me like I, reluctantly, want you..." he was clearly going to keep going but Hermione put her hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"That's a lot of things." She laughed feebly, trying to loosen the atmosphere that was enveloping them darkly.

He shrugged. "You should have been more specific."

"True I guess." She could see his point.

"Your turn Granger. Tell me what you want with me."

She lowered her eyebrows. "Mostly I just want to understand you."

He grumbled, making a throaty noise. "That isn't an answer!"

"It's true. I'm scared to like you, even as friends, because I don't want it all to be a ruse." She shrugged. "I can let go of the smaller things, because we were just silly kids, but the feelings still remain sometimes. I still remember how you used to look at me."

He gazed at her for a moment before lifting his hand and placing it over her jaw and the crook of her neck. His touch was heavy as he placed all the weight of his arm there. "I was a stupid kid. Spoiled and mean. It was how my parents raised me." He held her eyes. "No, I'm not making excuses. It just what I was told to do." For a moment he looked ashamed. "I still do it sometimes. I'm trying not to be so rude to you in person, but I still think bad thoughts about you sometimes." He admitted and it actually really hurt her feelings. She felt astoundingly upset by the words, not that they were really surprising.

"That isn't helping you convince me." She whispered, not intentionally.

He nodded, "I know, but it's the truth." As he spoke the words, his hand drifted from her neck to her shoulder and he pulled her close, until her head was laying against his shoulder. "I'll never be the good guy Granger."

She nodded. "But you aren't a bad guy anymore. So what does that make you?"

He shrugged, making her head topple backwards then forwards again with his shoulder. "Draco. It just makes me Draco."

"I think I like Draco better than Malfoy."

He sucked in a breath from above her, squeezing his eyes shut. She noticed that he did that a lot, though she wasn't sure why.

"Did you get amnesia when you fainted earlier?" He asked, his solid gray eyes peering down at her as she laid against him, half because she liked the feelings, and half because his hand was still holding her there.

She giggled. "No, why?"

"You just said that you liked me."

Tilting her head up to face him. "More like you're growing on me."

He gave a big smirk. "Growing on you, eh? Draco Malfoy is growing on Hermione Granger?"

She nodded. "Sometimes you aren't that bad, even though you are a big pig-headed and you're slightly rude."

"Careful there Granger, or you might actually hurt my feelings." He chuckled. "I do have those you know. Buried under this charming and handsome face and my jagged battle scars is an actual, unbruised soul. Wouldn't want to take that away would you?"

"Oh very funny." She mocked a laugh.