AN: Heh, I suppose you totally saw their kiss coming. OH WELL. I am captain obvious. I hope you liked the last chapter anyway:D And I hope you like this one too! My next update may be a little longer wait than usual, I haven't finished it yet, see. Read and Review please! It's awesome this story's topped a hundred!
Reviews: beautifly92 Thanks, glad you think so! TheWitchOfTheSouth Aww, thanks so much, you're such a dear. I like your decision:D Lollo-BookLOOVEER Yay I'm happy you liked it! LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL Thanks for your faithful reviewings! Nicconicco You made my day too, with your lovely review! Hahah, thats quite funny. Sam-EvansBlue Thanks for your comments, yeah I do love dance! I'll read through my story and fix those errors soon! missygrace101 Thanks(: BeccaSucks Oh my yeah! I never thought of that, it is pretty cool. Yes, FINALLY. They kiss! Thanks for always reviewing this story! CourtneyUchiha94 Haha, true that, best way ever! Wish you the best of luck! Dusty Brown I'm glad I merit a place on your alert list, thanks for the review! Thecla Updated! Karate Chic haha, yeah, quite a rant wasn't it!LadyOfTheLancashireManor Your review really made me and find out yeah! I really hope so, it would be lovely if you could:D
Chapter 15. There's Nothing Like It
It wasn't like Draco expected. It felt like a smoldering flame was steadily consuming his body, setting his heart and emotions aflame. Overwhelmed with an incredible yearning to continue in his current activities, slowly and reluctantly, he pulled his head away. Staring at a speechless Hermione whose eyes were wide with shock and some other unidentifiable emotion simmering beneath the surface, he cursed to himself. Damn, he thought, relaxing his grip on her. Perhaps she hadn't felt it, he thought with a sinking heart, shocking himself with the amount of disappointment that welled up within him. Maybe she hadn't experienced the slow burning of desire, the sweet lingering feeling of the kiss they had shared.
"Draco..." Hermione ventured, looking away and covering her mouth with her hand.
He waited expectantly, preparing himself for all possible responses. Maybe she'd say it was a mistake and set Potty and Weasel on him. Or maybe, she'd grab him, snog him passionately and ravish him right there and then on the dance floor. Draco hoped wholeheartedly it was the latter.
Then, suddenly she turned and ran with surprising speed and agility, out of the sliding panels and out his line of sight. Draco sighed, and slumped against the barre, massaging his forehead with his hands. "What did you expect, Draco?" he berated himself silently. "Honestly, what did you expect?"
The answer presented itself to him, but he chose to ignore it and proceed out of the dance studio, inevitably and very alone.
He had expected, perchance, be loved.
That night, Hermione tossed and turned guiltily in bed, envious of Ginny's undisturbed sleep. She had broken their nighttime ritual of sneaking out to the Meeting Place, and she was now facing retribution of being deprived of her much needed rest. But really, she was at loss of what to do! Their kiss had been undoubtedly captivating and in every aspect, spellbinding and wonderful. It had awoken feelings that Hermione had been working terrifically hard to suppress and these emotions had surfaced with vengeance. Draco had probably only kissed her to shut her up. He hadn't felt the slow seeping of tenderness and intimacy that she did. What was a witch to do? She couldn't face him now.
After another good hour of sleeplessness, she gave up. After over four long nights spent roughing it out on sofas, the mattress and duvets were too luxurious that it was suffocating. Shoving off the covers, she gritted her teeth and shuffled out to the Meeting Place, praying to the gods that Draco would be, by hook or crook, already asleep, or not even there. Shutting her eyes, she tiptoed out of the hallway feeling rather childish with her hands outstretched in front of her. She was quite sure she looked quite a sight wrapped in her rather fluffy ocean blue dressing gown with her hair a brown frizzy disaster zone and her eyes screwed determinedly shut. She fumbled for the door and opened it.
"Hey... Her-Granger."
Blast! He was there. She cracked open an eye. Draco was perched on a fat armchair, sipping a drink from a ceramic mug and hovering a plate of cookies onto the side table. He looked relaxed, casual, and slightly amused at her comical entrance, but the slight falter in his speech betrayed his innate nervousness.
"You're here," she said awkwardly, dropping her hands to her side, feeling extremely unsure whether she ought to join him or run faster than Ron confronted with spiders.
"Er, want some?" Draco offered, holding up his mug. Hermione inched forward slowly, looking warily at the drink.
"What is it?"
"Milk and Butterbeer," he said shrugging. He avoided looking in her eyes, seeming almost as disconcerted as she was. "Couldn't sleep," he admitted.
Hermione was surprised. She thought he'd be all cocky and teasing or silent and tense. Not sitting nervously and proffering her favourite drink. She grasped the mug and took a sip, enjoying the comforting warm feeling the drink brought. Moving to the armchair next to Draco, she took a seat.
"Couldn't sleep either," she found herself admitting.
"Oh?" He quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Dunno," she muttered thickly, taking another swig from the mug and turning away, trying desperately to conceal her reddening cheeks.
"It's my drink, you know," he reminded her.
"Right, yes, sorry," Hermione said hastily, returning the mug and almost spilling all it's contents. She blushed even harder, and she felt like crawling into a hole and dying there. Merlin, she was such a klutz! It was worse than the time when Pansy jinxed her on April Fools to trip every five steps she took. Harry and Ron, once exacting revenge on Pansy and making her grow a four foot long beard, had found it immensely funny, especially when she tripped in the corridor and threw herself into the arms of Professor Trelawney, knocking the professor's perfectly circular glasses right off her nose. Luckily, Pansy wasn't much at Charms and the spell didn't last that long. Idiot, she mentally scolded.
"Whoa, easy there, Hermione!" Draco said, setting the mug on the table. He grinned at her suddenly. It seemed the more embarrassed Hermione became, the more confident Draco grew. She averted her gaze. Oh, she thought despairingly. This is so awkward! Our friendship is all ruined! Stupid, stupid Samba!
"Cookie?" he asked, pointing to the plate on the table. She took one and held it in her hand, not trusting herself to eat it. With her luck she'd choke and cough and spew cookie crumbs all over Draco's undoubtedly expensive pajamas.
"You know," he continued, watching her. He was definitely amused now, and the previous uneasiness had completely vanished from his features. "Food's meant to be eaten, not crushed to pulp in your hand."
Hermione scowled ferociously at him and took a tentative bite of her cookie. Draco chewed thoughtfully on his own, and they lapsed into a strained silence. She could hear the rhythmic ticking of the clock as minutes passed and the tension in the room only heightened. It was absolutely nerve wracking and the whole situation was only made worse when Hermione reached blindly down for another cookie and found herself clutching Draco's hand.
She winced, snatching her hand back as if she'd been burned. "Sorry," she managed, feeling a tingling sensation in her fingers.
Draco didn't say anything, just stared at her with some unreadable emotion inscribed on his face, and then looked down at his hands.
"You took long enough to get here," he asked her pointedly.
"Er, well I-"
"Wasn't planning on coming down?" he cut in shrewdly. "And why was that?"
Her mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, making no sounds whatsoever. She willed herself to speak.
"Why was that?" he pushed, no longer amused. "Were you bent on avoiding me then?"
"Malfoy...please stop," she said hopelessly.
"Malfoy now, is it? Alright, Granger. Why do you want me to stop? Scared, are you? Our little War Hero, the brains of the Golden Trio, scared? Don't want to think about what you might hear?" he taunted, his features twisting in anger, posturing himself to project authority with his back completely straight and his shoulders held tautly. His gaze was burning and intense.
Hermione was horrified that she had provoked such a reaction. "Draco," she said quietly. "Draco...you know it's not like that."
All the fight seemed to go out of him and he slumped against the cushions.
"I'm sorry," she went on, trying to convey her sincerity in the weight of her words. "I was confused, and surprised. I didn't know what to do."
She then looked at him. Really looked. His white-blonde hair was a tad messy, falling into his eyes ever so slightly, but it looked soft and smooth and shone slightly like spun gold in the dimmed lightings. His skin, though still impossibly fair, no longer held the pasty paleness of his schooling day. His black shirt was left half unbuttoned, and shadows played across his muscular chest in the flickering lamplight. His face, so very flawless, seemed to have been chiseled by a great artiste who took great pains to ensure he was nothing less than perfection personified. There was no denying it, Draco Malfoy was utterly gorgeous.
She lifted her gaze to his face. Her heart was doing strange palpitations within her, her cheeks were flushed, the nesting butterflies were called once more to action in her stomach. Hermione's throat got all dry at the memory of how softly his lips had brushed across hers just a few hours ago. She focused on those lips, wondering if they would possibly cause her the same torrent of emotion if they, so happened to, just maybe, snog again. Not because she wanted to, oh definitely not. Just to prove her bothersome and very persistent imagination (that kept trying to convince her he just might harbour feelings for her) wrong. She mustn't expect anything else. What ever had happened between her and Draco in the studio had been impulsive and a mistake. She had to make herself believe that, she simply had to!
Hermione lifted her eyes to meet his. Those enigmatic silver-grey eyes, sometimes warily guarded, rarely ever betraying hints of the shifting and roiling emotions beneath the surface. Those eyes, sometimes burning and penetrating with its intensity. Those eyes that enthralled her with an almost magnetic hold, those eyes that now read of a careful and controlled sadness.
She got up abruptly, and made her way over to Draco, her heart hammering madly in her chest, and her cheeks flushing wildly. His face registered a look a surprise.
"Just to check," she murmured, hoping she came across much braver than she felt. She reached up to cup his cheek and brought her lips to meet his.
There it was again, that burning feeling that made her insides feel like molten lava, that made her feel like liquid fire was rushing through her veins. Despite the softness of it, the contact was hot and smouldering in its intensity and once again Hermione felt the a sensation of entrancement. The kiss was one of yearning, one of longing. It was unbearably sweet. After several long moments-or it could've been a couple hours, she'd lost all sense of time- she broke contact, hurriedly scanning his face for any sign of regret or disgust. She saw none, and instead his gaze was so affectionate, that cliched as it was, it made her go weak in the knees.
Instinctively she opened her mouth to apologise, but when Draco's finger brushed against her lips to shush her gently, she lost all train of thought.
"Shh, don't." He fondly...dare she think it, lovingly, tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "It's not a mistake." He stood up in a single fluid movement, and rested his hands on her waist. Oh, oh, what was he going to do? Was he going to snog her again? Where should she put her hands? What would it mean? Did he like her?
"God, Hermione," he chuckled softly into her ear. "Stop analyzing everything, would you?"
And he kissed her once again, very chastely, very tenderly. She inhaled the smell of his aftershave and suddenly felt very glad his hands were supporting her if not she knew for sure, she'd just fall down. Or melt into a puddle of mush on the floor...damn all these sappy and sentimental notions flooding her brain! She wasn't...she wasn't...and Hermione found she could no longer form coherent thought. Entirely without her permission, her body had surrendered completely to the suave, charming, and delightfully manipulative-his hands were running down her back now and it felt wonderful- what was she saying again?
He ended the kiss and grinned down at her mischievously. "Guess you liked that, huh?"
"It's not a joke Draco!" she said as sternly as she could manage because she was feeling rather breathless and also, still very comfortable in his embrace.
Draco let his lips brush against her forehead. "Course, Hermione. I'm entirely, entirely serious."
"Oh." He was serious. In every other context, the sentence would be seen as insignificant and mundane, but to her they were the most glorious three words she'd ever heard. She felt herself leaning into him. So many times had they stood, clasped together in each other's arms back in the dance studio, but Hermione had never felt more at home, never felt more beautiful than she did right then, in the middle of the Meeting Place in the dead of night, clad in her fuzzy dressing robe.
"I'm serious too," she felt she ought to inform him.
"Mmm," Draco murmured inconsequentially. He pulled away from her, and she was suddenly very aware of the absence of his touch. However, Hermione also managed to notice he was keeping a very firm hold on her hand.
"Thought you might want to sit," Draco explained, tugging her towards the roomiest white sofa.
"That's really thoughtful of you!" The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them. Hermione fervently hoped he realised she was being sincere, not sarcastic.
He smiled wryly at her. "I try, really I do."
Draco then plumped up the cushions so they were nice and soft and springy. He stretched out comfortably on the settee, which surprisingly managed to accommodate the length of his towering frame. Realising Hermione was still standing and staring, he pulled her down so that she was perched at the end of the settee.
"What're you doing?" Hermione asked nervously, experiencing an odd thrill of being in such close proximity to him and reveling ever so slightly in the unadulterated intimacy of their position. Draco seemed pretty unperturbed.
"Trying to sleep," he said, as if stating the obvious. "You're not going to planning to stay up all night are you?"
"No," Hermione said, feeling a bit foolish. She wiggled round a bit and then finally lay down beside Draco, turning her body away from him.
"Not shy, are you?" he teased. Hermione imagined him having a very silly grin on his face, enjoying taking the mickey out of her. Somehow the image had her nettled and caused her to shift herself round to face him and jab him hard in the chest.
"No, you numbskull!" She sat up and looked down at his annoyingly tranquil expression.
" You lured me into a false sense of security with cookies and my favourite drink and reduced me to bumbling, confused, flustered mess. It's not fair that you're so slick with your words...It's your fault! You halfwit-"
"I'm beg to differ," he interjected.
"-crafty,"
"Well, I am a Slytherin."
"-puffed up, smarmy, with the brains of a Nargle-"
"I came in second after you for our year end exams remember." He saw fit to remind her.
"Arrogant, mean, twerp!" She finished off triumphantly, her shoulders heaving as if she had been relieved of some heavy burden.
Draco just smiled up indulgently at her. "But you like me all the same, don't you."
"W-we-well," she stuttered. Honestly, it didn't feel like a question, more towards a statement. But either way, it would have been very mean and definitely impolite to answer with anything other than assent. And damn. His smile was completely undoing her. It was so sincere and beatific. Making her feel like a second year with her first crush. She had to say yes...any other response would be so disappointing, really.
"I guess," Hermione said shyly.
She was rewarded with the look of seraphic contentment that graced his face.
"Thought so," he said smugly, satisfied. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her down towards him, not giving her any time to react or voice protest. She decided not to make a scene and acquiesced, lying down beside him. She found that there was in fact, plenty of room.
"Goodnight, Hermione," he murmured.
Hermione relaxed, quickly growing accustomed to the feeling of his arm draped over her, his body resting easily against hers. It was actually rather comfortable. She snuggled a bit closer to him and rested her head on his chest. She could hear the rhythmic thudding of his heart, calming her, lulling her to sleep. She could get used to this.
The minutes ticked by. Her eyelids were drooping, heavy with sleep. She marveled at the day's events. It had all happened so quickly. Them, their feelings, their friendship...which wasn't quite that much of a friendship anymore. Or maybe it hadn't been so quick at all. Maybe unknowingly, she had already fallen for him, right back when, when she had fallen on him during their very first dance class. Maybe love had stealthily crept in like a cloaked shadow in the night, bleeding into the pages of their days, melding into the saga that was their relationship. Maybe the feeling had presented itself when she first saw him dance...or when she met him unguarded and unmasked in the lonely hours of the night...or when he whispered into her ear huskily right before they had to perform onstage. Or maybe, she had liked him all along. She moved slightly in Draco's embrace, his arms heavy around her. Then she wondered briefly whether Draco was still awake. She decided that it didn't matter and she was too lazy to lift up her head to see his face. And she had a slight inkling that if she did, she'd probably just start snogging him all over again, and Merlin knows whether they'd get any sleep then. So she closed her eyes.
"Night, Draco," she muttered blearily, breathing his name with a soft sigh.