Round
Five
After
that there were no more rules
No more boundaries
We went at each other daily
And every seemingly innocent touch
My hand against the heat at her lower back
Her hand brushing mine
Small victories
Small losses
The real battles took place in the library
Of
course
Each day I waited for her
Playing with her bracelet
Watching it catch the candlelight
It captivated me
A
dragon's fascination with gold
And amazingly
She was always there
She always came to see me
She was so beautiful
And our conversation
We had conversation now
Was wonderful
Quick
Bright
Sexual
Teasing
Insightful
She was like a cobra
Curving graceful deadly lightening
I
learned things about her I would never have expected
She loved
rock music
Muggle grunge music
Alice in Chains, Nirvana, Shine Down
She blared it from a tiny muggle device
Blared it till her ears rang
It was her release
Her therapy
She had an insatiable sweet tooth
All things caramel and gooey
It made her feel warm
Safe
I thought of sending her boxes and boxes
Of the very best caramels
Over the summer
But then I realized
Her
parents would only take them
Her mannerisms I began noticing as
well
She talked with her hands
Painting with diction and metaphor
With pale tiny hands
With bitten nails and ink smudges
When I looked at them now
I know longer saw just hands
But birds
And ghosts
And dancing snakes
And when she lied
She could fool anyone
Anyone who wasn't watching her hands
They stopped their dance when she lied
But I always watched her hands
Mesmerized
And some days her hands spoke for her
In our dance of attraction
Today
was one of those days
I had stolen her quill
"I think I'll
just keep this, Granger"
And put it in my pocket
"Don't try and take it back
Or
I'll put it down my trousers."
She rolled her eyes
Childish really
Both of us, actually
She went back to reading her book
Pretending to read her book
She glanced up so coyly
And asked for help
Like she needed it
I moved closer to her
I couldn't help it
Then she reached into my pocket
Threading a needle
Burning
Excruciating
She
had the light of victory in her eyes
But I had the quill in my
hand
And I was faster
Stronger
I would keep my word
As
always
I put the quill in my trousers
"I warned you.
There's only one way to get it back now."
And then the chuckle
That always made the most delicious shudder
Run down
Her
spine
The
'One way'
Was thoroughly obvious
She could just go get another quill
But that would mean losing
And Hermione Granger would not lose
I could see the blood
Rushing into her cheeks
In a hot flood
So flattering
Even with the little scowl of frustration
Marring
her smooth brow
She sat with me on the library floor
We were quite the contrast
Icy sprawling masquerade
Warm focused demur
I threw open my arms to her
'Come and get it'
She looked focused
Like she was trying to solve a riddle
Which
I suppose
She was
How to get the quill
Out of my trousers
Without
Putting her hand into my trousers
Which would not be a good plan
Not for her
Not unless she was wanting more
Than I thought she was
And it would not be good for me
Not if I wanted to win
But while she was pondering I got the chance
A rare treat, really
Just to watch her
And
her honey bright warmth
Then she leapt on me
Like a kitten stalking daydreams
She caught me off guard
But what else is new?
For a moment
I was frozen
But then I had the sense to fight back
Her aim was apparent
Get the quill down my trouser leg
Without
Touching me at all
And my aim was probably unmistakable as well
Keep her from getting the quill
While
Avoiding any unfortunate contact
We struggled for long minutes
Every brush of her cobra strike hands
Was scorching
Freezing
Electrifying
Then just as suddenly
As she had sprung
She
fell still
Reclining like a Grecian marble goddess
In my lap
Only warm
And soft
And...
My nerves were on fire
I looked down at her
Questions in my eyes
She muttered
Something about a break
I wrapped an arm around her
A junkie to the last
I closed my eyes
Utterly at ease with this
Weird
Twisted
Sadistic
Little
Game
We were playing
I rested my chin on top of her head
And breathed in her honey summer
Drunk of ambrosia
She was breathing deeply
And her heart was beating fast
A
tattoo psalm
Of course
That could be attributed to her
Trying to get things
Out
Of my pants
