Author's Note:
Guys sorry it's been like 2 weeks, been super busy, and also:
I SAW FREAKING MUSE!
My god, it was so crazy unexpected. I never thought I'd see them. I was broke when their tickets came out, but my friend had extras. She was going to go with her family but she had an exam the morning after the first date (they played 2 dates in a row in Montreal where we went). Long story short, we had crappy seats but it was way better than I could've hoped for. Way better, they sound album quality live.
I still can't believe it (it was last night!). Anyways, sorry for rambling but they've inspired me so in this fic, I just had to mention it.
And now I have finally seen the end,
And I'm not expecting you to care,
But I have finally seen the light,
I have finally realized;
I need to love.
- Madness, Muse.
"You ready?" she asks me.
"So fucking ready."
It's been three excruciating weeks of secret library visits, silent conversations and constant rumour spreading. I've had it.
I told Hermione I'm done with it, and that hiding our affection makes us look weak, and makes us look ashamed. Granted, she probably is ashamed of me, but that's irrelevant.
She told me we should wait it out for a little bit to let the ocean settle, but the fish are oh so snappy today, tomorrow and yesterday.
So right now, mid-dinnertime at Hogwarts, we're walking into that damn Great Hall and we're holding hands and kissing each other. And sitting down at the same table. (Gasp! Ugh.)
Like we're in some horribly scripted romantic play. Hermione says that because most people still seem tongue tied or angry towards her, she's been more apprehensive than me to do this. Ultimately she decided that perhaps they are like that because when she's not really open with us seeing each other, it seems like she hasn't accepted it herself.
I don't really care about the psychology of it, I just want physical contact and emotional stimulation more than one hour every two days. The sharks will get their food tonight, and they can do whatever they please with it. Play with it or swallow.
"Alright, here we go. Act like you're immersed in a conversation," she says smiling, pushing the door open as she clutches my hand. "And make it as genuine as possible."
"About what?"
"Um, potions, transfig, I don't know. Oh, oh, Quidditch." She gives me an unsure look with her plastered on grin and strolls with a confident gait straight down the middle of the hall.
"Oh, you mean how much I hate that I can't play it?" I ask, with a teasing tone. "Yes, well I'm hoping England will do well this year but their seeker is doing pretty bad like always. Now, which table are we going to go to, because look at your Gryffindor companions. Ooh, they look angry," I say with as much joy as I can muster.
The Gryffindor seventh years have their eyes trained on us, and so do the Hufflepuffs who also share the middle tables.
"It's important that you come to my table, because they seem to think, from what I gather, that you've influenced me badly rather than the other way around. I can go to yours tomorrow. What was it you were saying about Quidditch, dear?" She changes her tone to a flirty, girly one. "Hi Harry, Ginny, Ron."
If I could capture the look on Weasel's face right now, I'd give the person with a camera a million galleons. Everyone is completely gobsmacked at my presence, and I can't say that I don't enjoy the reaction a little.
I thought she informed Ginny of my table appearance, but evidently not. She has wide eyes, probably wondering whether or not I'm going to leave in one piece.
"Hi…." Ginny says uneasily, taking the initiative to move down a bit so there's space for me.
"Draco?" Hermione urges as I take a seat next to Ginny, and she next to Potter.
"Oh yes, I was saying that Blythe Parkin is a terrible seeker, and they should get rid of him so England can start doing well in Quidditch again," I say, thinking that this is going to get awkward in a second.
Hermione doesn't know anything about Quidditch, does she? What is she going to respond with?
"And who do you suggest they replace him with?" She asks intently into my eyes, pretending that she actually cares, ignoring the people around me openly glaring.
"If they'd get Francois Du Point, the French seeker, they'd be good, and if they could manage the Hungarian chaser Janos Kovas, they'd become a dream team, honestly," I reply, shaking my head at how ditzy she's being.
"You know so much about Quidditch," she smiles, leaning in to kiss me.
A fork is dropped, and as she pulls away I notice it's Thomas's. He looks positively livid, actually, Weasley looks pretty sour too.
Hermione takes the liberty of putting chicken on my plate, along with some potatoes while the conversation around us has ceased to exist. She starts to eat daintily, blathering to me some story about muggle studies.
And then after a few minutes Thomas decides to speak: "Hermione, what are you trying to prove by bringing him to our table?"
"Oh, first time any of you have spoken to me directly in almost a month, and its hostile, how lovely," she notes scathingly, making everyone flush red in earshot.
Thomas is unfazed. "Of course it is. Look at who we have to sit with. You think we'd enjoy the company? What do you have to prove?"
"No, no I didn't think you'd enjoy it, but this whole thing hasn't blown over yet, this judgmental blanket of opinions that I've somehow changed because I hang out with Draco. I'm sick of trying. I've tried to talk to all of you, and none have given me a chance to explain anything. I'm not proving anything. I'm doing what I want. And anyways, it's really none of your business who I date; does it affect your life? No. I'm not embarrassed of him, so why be quiet about it?" She grabs my hand and I can't help but grin a silly smile.
She's being extremely stroppy, confronting , and over exaggerating about her confidence in our relationship. She's dismissing her school friends and calling them out on their unacceptable behaviour. She's being Slytherin, is what she's being, in an less vicious way.
I'm extremely turned on right now.
"You should be embarrassed of him!" Longbottom shouts angrily. He's sitting directly across from me, glaring at me as if I'm a disease that can infect.
I can see it on her face, Hermione's in shock. I'm a bit shocked myself. Everyone's a bit shocked.
"Look at his track record, Hermione. Look at what he's done and said to us, the shit he's pulled for the other side. Who his family is, and what they are. You're supposed to be the smartest person I know, what's wrong with you? Open your eyes! Look, he's enjoying this, he's smiling at our anger."
Oh, for fucks sake.
"I'm smiling because she's sticking up for me, Longbottom, not because everyone's mad," I express coldly. He doesn't waiver.
Hermione mentally gathers her wits, swallowing hard, obviously finding it easier to retaliate to Dean, who pissed her off some way.
"Nothing is wrong with me, Neville. Things are different now, people change. I've accepted what he's done, I won't forget it, but I can move past it."
"Well, I can't!" This rings in from Finnigan. I guess the boys are getting more confident. "I don't want you at our table Malfoy, so step off."
"Is that a unanimous decision?" I ask, eyeing everyone face to face. Nobody mans up to say anything though.
"Haven't any of you heard of inter-house unity? Don't you care at all about making amends? Or are you too shallow for that? In case you hadn't noticed, he hasn't been rude to you at all this year. He helped you in your audition Neville, remember?" Poor dear is getting flustered at all this confrontation.
"I don't care! He only did it so McGonagall would think better of him. He doesn't care about anyone except for himself, don't you Malfoy? You only want to date her so you look good, bet that was your dad's plan all along, huh? Put that into action as soon as you decided to come back to school."
Longbottom growing a pair was definitely not a good thing to happen.
I'm not letting this get to me.
I'm not letting this get to me.
I'm not.
Say nothing, Draco. Dignifying him with a response would only make you angry.
"Look, I know you all have a million reasons to dislike him, but if you don't give him the opportunity to show you a reason to not hate him it'll never change."
"Maybe we don't want it to change."
This small firm statement comes from someone I did not expect, Potter. It's not a surprise, really, but I thought Weasley would be the first to attack me from Hermione's side.
"What?" Hermione whispers.
The tension has mounted to an all-time high. Everyone in arms reach is silent, and some younger ones are looking in to the drama event of the week. Ugh.
"Even if he shows me a side of him I can tolerate, I'll never be able to forgive him for the anguish over the years. I just can't."
"But what about – " Hermione begins weakly.
"About him not turning us over to Voldemort?" We all flinch, myself included, at his name. Some gasp, I guess surprised that I had the chance of giving them up and didn't. "Yeah it's true, we were at Malfoy Manor, Voldemort was keeping prisoners there. Malfoy didn't identify us when asked, and that's how the confrontation with Bellatrix happened," he explains. Oh yes, Potter put the Bellatrix part in his dumb autobiography, but not the part about me, obviously.
"Besides," he continues shaking his head, "that's the proper thing to do, just because he did it doesn't make him a good person. It was more out of fear than compassion, than actually giving a damn about anyone else. Why else would he come back and try to get his wand at a most inopportune moment?"
"How do you know how I feel, Potter? Since when did you become the expert on the –"
"You shut the fuck up!" Weasley barks at me, taking me aback.
Hermione glances at Ginny, who is just as helpless looking as she is.
"No," I reply hotly. "You all are acting like Hermione is some stupid school girl with no sense left in her brain. Do you honestly think that she'd be with me if she didn't overanalyze her feelings a hundred times? That she wouldn't end it if I stepped a toe out of line? The Prophet is a bunch of lies, haven't' you learned that yet from what the said about Potter?" I point to him, he looks uncomfortable. Good.
"My father didn't want me to see her actually, Longbottom. He hates muggleborns, remember? I used to, but I was an idiot. And I admit to it. You act like I don't know what I've done. You act like you've got me all figured out, when you don't know me at all. You think that I don't have a conscience or that I'm not aware of what she thinks of me and what all of you think. I know I'm lucky she's giving me a chance. I don't really care if you hate me, I'm only here for her sake. But I'm not taking your abuse, and I'm not projecting it back, so good bye."
I swing my legs over the bench and stand up, extremely proud I did not insult a single person, that's probably some sort of record. I want to eat food, but I'm not going over to my table, there are wandering eyes curious as to why I've left as quickly as I came. Then again, if I leave, it's like I'm 'storming out'. Ah, fuck. When did life become so melodramatic?
"Draco!" Hermione has sprung up to join me. She grabs my shoulder and walks with me. "God, I'm so sorry. That was a stupid idea. What are you doing?"
"No worries, lovely, I expected as much. I'm actually hungry, a rare occurrence, I need to eat, I'm going to my table. Feel free to go back to yours, we can rendezvous après?" I smirk.
"Lovely?" she grins, making me melt. I've been melting quite a bit as of late. "I like that. And I'd be a hypocrite if I told them to welcome you to the table and was too chicken to go to yours."
"Really?" I ask, surprised. "Well, good. You can meet Theodore properly, and you can tell me if I'm hallucinating his signals with Madam Bulstrode or if they're there."
"Lucky me," she admits a bit nervously.
"You'll be fine, they're more scared of you than them. Pansy ain't around to be a bitch."
"If you say so…" As we cross the sea of Hufflepuff and get to our scarcely filled table, I notice Nott staring at me with a dirty smile, and I shake my head at him. Millicent isn't here tonight, dammit.
"Oh Drakes, you've brought home a stray," Nott says like an imbecile as I go sit across from him. Hermione takes a spot next to me.
"Nott, you're a tosser," I reply monotone, grabbing some ham from the roast in front of me.
"Perhaps. Hi, I'm Theodore Nott. You can call me Theo, though. Drakes here refuses to call me it because he hates his own nickname," he pats me on the head. I want to break his scrawny neck.
"Drakes?" Hermione giggles inquisitively.
I sigh. "Yes, yes, it's hilarious, you call me that and I'll start calling you Hermy."
She laughs even harder. Damn it, it's hard to intimidate her when you're me, I forgot.
"Don't worry, I won't. I think it's cute though. And I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," she replies to Nott, waving mildly.
"See, it's cute!"
"Yeah, not when you say it. So where's Millicent this evening?" I ask innocently. His face drops immediately, and I nudge Hermione who rolls her eyes.
"She's in detention, actually. Punched Daphne Greengrass for er, uh, mocking me," he finishes quietly.
"Oh, pray tell about what?"
"She said something along the lines of 'watch out Millicent, he thinks all the girls like him when he doesn't have a single chance.' Blah blah blah."
"Ouch, well she kinda deserved it then, eh?" Hermione slaps my shoulder. "Alright, maybe not a punch. That girl doesn't have a great track record, does she?"
"She started a fistfight with me in second year at the Duelling Club," Hermione says timidly. "I mean, it was so long ago, I don't really care just, yeah."
"Oh that's right," I reply amused, spooning some mashed potatoes in my mouth. "Well if you two ever get together at least one of you can defend each other's honours."
"Will you shut up?!"
"Ooh, testy."
"Draco," Hermione scolds, though I can tell she's entertained by our banter.
"Come on Granger, that's just how we talk to each other, right Nott?" I look at him and smirk, hoping to communicate to him that I'm only teasing.
"Yeah…" he trails off, finally smiling a little. "So what're you two lovebirds up to this evening? Disturbing the peace of Hogwarts by scandalously sitting next to each other, gasp!"
"Sitting at the wrong table, actually. There aren't as many judgementals over here, oddly enough. Probably because all the assholes never came back," I say.
"Well, you're here aren't you?"
"Oh, ha ha. We're going to practice after this, performance in 3 days, ya know. You ready with your lady?"
"Meh, can't be fussed to be honest," he shrugs.
"I wish I could be like you," Hermione sighs, putting her head on crossed arms.
"Been all up in arms about it, this one," I say, nudging her. "'Draco, we must go over it just one more time, we only have a week!'" I imitate.
"Oh be quiet, you knew I was like this coming into the project."
"I suppose I did."
"Does it bother you much?" she asks me, raising an eyebrow.
"Not one bit."
She grins looking down at the table, silently pleased.
I notice somebody at the front of the room.
"Speak of the devil," I say, pointing to the entrance. Nott zooms his gaze to Millicent, who waves to him as she comes over and then scrunches her eyes at Hermione sitting with me.
She beckons Nott to stand up next to her and Nott reluctantly gets up, aware of me watching. They have some kind of conversation, probably about leaving because Daphne has noticed her presence, glaring at her.
While Nott's preoccupied, I pull Hermione into me and whisper into her ear, "Hey, are you okay?"
"Okay?" she replies confused.
"Well, about the reaction to me. They are your friends after all," I murmur.
She looks at me with that calculating look. The exam question look.
She does it quite often now, it's getting quite unnerving.
"I'm fine, I'm just frustrated. I thought Harry was getting used to it," she sighs. "I don't want to get so upset about it right now, I can't appear to let it get to me."
"If you want to postpone the practice, you can go talk to him later…"
"No. If he's not respecting you, I'm not going to talk to him about it until he comes to me."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
She leans her head on my shoulder and I feel that dreadful feeling once again, the one that makes my chest tight and my head heavy, but my heart so blissfully happy.
"Alright last time."
"Last time?" Draco groans, "We've played it what? 16 times now? My fingers have stopped working."
He shakes his hand at me and I have an urge to burst out laughing. I think he's ruined my ability to be completely stern because he complains incessantly but then does what I say anyways.
"Draco, we need to get it to absolute perfection. We're almost there, but there's always room for improvement."
He sighs, drops his head and then smiles.
"Merlin, if we don't get an O, I'm reporting McGoogles to the school board."
"McGoogles?" I giggle.
He's so ridiculous.
"That's what I call her in my head. Anyways, don't tell her I call her that, let's go, let's go." I shake my head and raise the bow, "1, 2, 3, 4 – "
He begins the slow intro, over exaggerating his movements in an attempt to make me laugh. Instead I look away, get lost in the sound, cueing in when my time comes, the slow crescendo we build before beginning to sing together.
Though I'd never tell him, Draco's voice is very endearing to me. Because it's not very good.
He has the quality of being aware that people are listening to him and therefore is toning down his effort a bit, it's adorable seeing him vulnerable.
This barrier that we had before this year is slowly being torn down, brick by brick.
I knew the pureblood mania was gone, and I knew he had feelings because I've seen him cry, experienced him completely empty his thoughts onto me.
Still I never realized that he was well, human. He doesn't always have an agenda, he's not always angry. And he's not this one dimensional Slytherin rich kid that bullies people for attention and self-approval. He has just never had a chance to really be himself, he acted out at school because he was away from his parents, but he still had to adhere to these expectations set by them. And he's guarded, regardless if he used his father as a threat and told people stupid things about himself. I guess he just needed somebody to talk to, that's why he broke down with me, and spilled everything out.
It also relaxes me a smidge knowing that he isn't actually over the top confident when I constantly struggle with that, it's mostly a façade.
"Hermione? Hello?"
We've been done for a minute now without me reiterating my feedback, whoops.
"Sorry, thinking."
"Thinking, hm? Dangerous stuff. What's wrong?" He gestures for me to come sit next to him on his seat, and I put my violin in the case, suddenly feeling exhausted as I go to him.
"Nothing. Really," I say at his doubtful expression. "And that was pretty good, actually. We were on time."
"Not at the end," he smirks, ruffling my head, probably making my curls into a mushroom cloud. "You were miles away."
"Really? Oh…," I reply embarrassed, fixing my hair.
"It's alright, you still were on point and –"
The door clicks open and a talking Seamus with Justin Flinch-Flentley walks in. Their heads snap to us and they pause only to have Seamus roll his eyes and say 'fuck's sake.'
Justin narrows his eyes at us and they both turn around to leave. I take a deep breath.
"Wait, Seamus. We're done now, you can use the room."
Seamus comes back and stares at us, evidently waiting for us to leave, but not conveying a thank you or anything.
I glance at Draco who raises an eyebrow and stands up to wander out of there, putting the composition back on the shelf. I move my violin to the corner and put a protection charm on it and the piano before walking past the two of them, grimacing at us openly.
"Where to?" Draco asks when we're out of range, grabbing my hand and swinging it.
"Why do you seem so unfazed by all this? The mocking, the contempt?"
"I'm used to it, I guess. Only difference from now and from being 14 is that I realize I deserve some of it. It does bother me a little, but I was a brat and an asshole, and I honestly don't expect most people to give me a chance, lord knows I never thought you'd give me one."
"Oh…" Why does he have to make me like him so? "Well ok…"
"You're just not used to it because you're a saint among these parts."
"Oh, stop it," I blush.
"it's truu-ueee," he sings, laughing. "Now, seeing as it's Friday and only 7:40, library?"
"You…want to go to the library?" I ask with wide eyes.
"Not really, but you want to. When do you not? I'd rather spend time with you even if you're studying than go back to my dorm."
"How sweet," I reply. And I mean it. "But no, I don't have my books or anything! I don't want to go back to the common room, I can't face those people, knowing they're going to start judging me when I leave, oh god."
"Now, now, don't go into panic mode. Maybe we can just read a book? You know I hear there are thousands of them." He's trying to make me smile but no, it's not going to work.
"No, what's the point of reading a school book if I can't take notes?"
"Fair point, I guess. Well…maybe we can, just go for a walk?"
"I'd rather sit and talk," I say. "Let's just go to the library. There's more privacy than anywhere else, it's probably too late to go outside."
"Alright then, let's go." He squeezes my hand and then pulls me along, making my stomach jump.
Half an hour later, in section B, we've given up trying to find something to read after looking through all the sections. Draco found one line in all the books and read it, snoring at how 'boring' it was.
We're sitting against the windows, just conversing. It's nice.
"So what did you think of Theo? He's a bit stupid, in'nt he?" he asks me, "And come here," he says yanking me into him.
"He's not stupid, he was friendly enough. I guess I'm surprised that you two tease each other so….so like buddies, I suppose."
He tilts his head and looks at me. "Why is that surprising?"
"It just seems that you kept your friends at a metre's length before, you made followers not friends," I stammer.
"I guess it did seem like that to you," he says quietly. "I wasn't always like that, I was with Crabbe and Goyle, I'll admit. But Pansy, Blaise and I had actual conversations." He pauses for a second. "Theo used to avoid me, and as soon as I came here, though he was surprised to see me, he was nice to me. So was Graham, and so was Astoria. I've been a shitty person and they don't owe me a thing. It took my integrity down a peg to see somebody that annoys me be kind to me. So I tease him but there's some kind of friendship that he's been attempting to have with me."
I lean in and kiss him on the lips. When he stares at me I say, "You really keep on surprising me, you know. It's so strange to me that you own up to things I never thought you would have."
"The reason everyone hates Slytherin's is because of people like me, but not everybody is mean, not everyone is horrible, they're just trained to ignore the rest of you. And we're trained to keep quiet," he discloses, staring at the floor.
"But how does one live like that?" I whisper.
He takes a deep breath. "I dunno. I don't think I truly did. I feel free. I feel a million times better now that I can share my secrets with you, just how I feel…I know I've exploded on you and I'm sorry, it's just. It's been a hard year," he sighs.
"I feel that."
"I didn't mean to say that mine was harder than yours, I- "
"No, no, it probably has been. I mean, it was tough not being able to see my parents but we got them back and everything was fine. Plus, I was with my friends…the only hard thing to deal with were, well, nightmares."
"Nightmares?" he asks, concern filled in his low tone.
"Yes, I had recurring nightmares…they're gone now. I had them for about 6 months, not every day. But often."
He pulls me close, kissing me gently on the cheek.
Noiseless comfort.
"I had them too."
"You – you did?"
"Why do you think I started drinking?"
My mind flashes back to one of his pensieve memories:
"Draco, are you drinking again?"
"I've been having horrible dreams again. Rum makes them disappear."
God, poor Draco. Father's in prison, parents getting divorced, had to live with Voldemort, had to be a Death Eater, had to kill somebody….
"What were they about?...If you don't mind?" I correct myself quickly.
He stares at me with a bit of dread, and then looks straight ahead.
"Mostly about me."
"What do you mean?"
"Turning into my father, or a bad version of myself. Hurting people, killing Dumbledore. I couldn't deal with that stress in sixth year, I distanced myself from everyone or just used them for my own need. And then after it finally happened, watching him die. Being a coward, and watching my mother die. Stepping over dead bodies, cursing people I didn't want to curse."
"That sounds horrible," I note, unable to stop myself. A sudden thought hits me. "Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot," he says, still looking into the distance.
"Harry told me that when he saw you in the bathroom, and, well, fought you, that Moaning Myrtle was there. Why?"
I feel him getting hot around the collar, his face a deep pink.
"I know it's out of the blue, but I always wondered about why that happened."
It takes him a moment to find the courage to speak, but he does.
"I – she – when I was plotting for, you know, death…I would go in that damned bathroom to think. Pansy wouldn't leave me alone in the dorms, she knew something was up. Myrtle would sometimes come up and try to talk to me. I told her off the first few times, but….she kept persisting. And finally I broke down. I cried and cried. And she just sat there. I told her what bothered me. And I didn't tell her what was going on, exactly, but she always wanted to help. And I guess…that made me feel like somebody liked me, even though I didn't deserve it."
"But you did deserve it. Everyone deserves it," I say trying to calm him, his hands gone from my waist, fidgeting in his hair.
"I should've just talked to Snape! That is the biggest regret of my life. I can deal with this stupid fucking tattoo. It sucks. I can deal. But no, I didn't do anything. I should've done something. Accepted Dumbledore's help. If I had gotten help, they surely would've helped my mother. Right? But I couldn't, I thought that it was finally my time to shine, that if everyone hated me I may as well just be bad."
"But that isn't you!" I say sharply, halting him in his rant. He flinched backward a bit before gazing at me. "You're not 'bad'. Maybe you were mean, nasty, there's no denying it. But evil? Maybe I used to think you were a cockroach crawling around this place with nothing to offer, not anymore. I talk to you, and I get comfort. I get genuine conversation and provoking thoughts. I feel like you care about me, and I care about you. If you were a bad person, would I spend time with you?"
"I –" he doesn't know what to say.
"Look Draco, Dumbledore didn't want you to kill him but he was going to be killed no matter what. And guess what? You didn't do it ultimately. In these past three weeks, you have proved to me that you deserve a second chance. You haven't acted out to my friends, and have done what I said. I feel bad that you even had to do this much for me already. It's different now, our lives. This relationship, it's far different than when I was with Ron. It's better. And I – I just –"
Draco cuts me off, swooping in to grab me firmly and smash his lips onto mine, causing my insides to somersault. I clutch his head, and he pulls me impossibly close, his hands snaking up and down my back, tangling my hair.
I feel the pit of my stomach tipping and turning, over and over and over again. The sensation goes lower when we don't come up for air.
And after a while, we have our blazers off, and his tie is off, and I'm straddling his lap, leaning against the window while he pins me to the glass.
His hands go up my shirt, cold fingers shocking the skin on my breasts. He unclasps my bra, and undoes the buttons of my shirt, pulling them down enough so he can tease my nipples.
"Uh," I breathe, moaning.
He's nipping and kissing me in all the right places it seems.
"God," he groans. "You're so fucking sexy."
"Really?" I ask, breathless.
"Every word you say makes me want you. It's driving me crazy," he yanks my head back down to him, snogging me intensely.
I feel his erection pressed in so near to me, I want to scream. I'm wet from arousal, and I want to be touched so badly. I'm probably flushed red already, I feel like we're so hot we're dissolving together to form one person.
I don't know how to convey properly what I want to be done to me, I don't know if I'm ready to touch him yet.
I grab his palms and push them from my face down to the top of my thighs.
He gets the message.
He squeezes them, circling his thumbs closer and closer to where I want them to be, slowly waiting for a resistance that won't come. I lean back to accommodate him, and he's panting as he looks into my eyes as if he'll never find an end to their depth, asking me a question.
"Please," is all I say.
His breathing becomes even more erratic as he strokes a finger up and down my clitoris, slowly at first, and then faster as he notices my panties becoming damper with each caress.
I start to squirm violently, feeling a dull ache of desire gathering in my most sensitive spot, isolating pleasure that's almost too much to bear.
Draco slides me off him, and pulls me beside him so he can hold me easier while he fingers me, using his free hand to wrap his arm round me, and gently cover my mouth to stifle all the noise I'm making.
I spread my legs, feeling the need to be as wide as I can, and he hooks one leg around my knee so I'm stuck in that position.
I start to mumble almost incoherently. "Inside me, inside me, please, please," and it sends him over the edge when he realizes what I'm saying, tilting his head backwards and forward again like he can't believe it.
He pushes my panties aside, it's not enough.
It's like nothing exists but this amazing feeling, and I'd do anything to keep it from stopping.
I glide them off my legs for a full access; Draco wastes no time in getting me back to him. Slipping a finger inside of me, in and out, he's changing speeds and making me want to yell to high heavem.
As my whimpering mounts to an all-time high, Draco clamps his hand more firmly.
"Scream, Hermione. Let it out," he murmurs into my ear, turning me on more than ever. "Please come for me."
Fuck.
"Oh my god."
He goes back to rubbing me, slick with wet, and my restraint goes out the window as he relentlessly tries to make me climax. My legs are stiff, strained, and I keep pushing my body outward to stop from wriggling, so he can keep going.
It feels like days go by, and I almost feel embarrassed that I can't come, and guilty because he's probably blaming himself for it. I've never come for myself or somebody else, without some kind of tool, I don't know if I'll be able.
No, no, no. Stop calculating, just experience.
Don't think.
Just -
"Relax, Hermione. It's alright," he whispers soothingly, taking a slow tempo again so I have time to let air in my lungs.
After I being to regulate my breathing again, I feel the overwhelming waves come back to me, the pulsing desire.
"I think I'm close," I blurt out quietly. This almost there feeling is excruciating.
And then – rapidly, unexpectedly, he begins to go full force, so fast, using two fingers against my now swollen clit. I moan so loudly into his hand. And bite my nails into his leg. And ball my fist beside me. I'm shaking violently, every kind of movement releasing from my body except for that one I want.
Everything is becoming focused. Into one small space this energy seems to flow.
One final delicious dart of pleasure and finally, thankfully, I burst.
I feel my legs spasm, and Draco has kept going, but I grab his hand and hold it securely, dragging my forehead to his and kissing him, some of my sweat dripping onto his face.
"Did you -?" he asks immediately, pulling away.
I nod, unable to speak from lack of breath, and he grabs me, holds me tightly.
After a moment, looking down at his own evident arousal, I try to give some kind of thanks.
"That was amazing," I breathe. "I – I don't know if I'm ready for – to you know –"
"It's okay," he shushes me, and I look up to see him grinning. "Take your time, don't hurry it, I don't want you to ever feel rushed, uncomfortable."
"Thank you for understanding," I express, burrowing my head into his chest.
We stay that way for another long while until we realize it's almost 10 pm, our curfew. We redress, and giggle to each other as we pass Madam Pince, pass everyone through the halls. It dawns as me as he's walking me to the tower that we just were naughty in the library.
Odd that that has never been one of my fantasies. I think it will be now.
He wishes me a good night, and I tell him I'll see him tomorrow.
I feel like I'm on cloud nine when I get back to the common room, I cannot stop from exuding happiness.
Even Lavender's stupid comment of "What are you so cheery about?" doesn't deter this joy. I get my pyjamas on, feeling exhausted like I did earlier, and look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror as I brush my teeth.
I'm glowing.
I appear as good as I feel on the inside, a rare occurrence for me.
I'm not distressed that I didn't study tonight, I'm enlightened that Draco and I had another one of our talks, even if it was short. Even better, I want what just happened to occur a lot more, and hope I'm ready to please him like he's done for me.
I've never felt so close to another human being than I do right now, Harry and Ron are never that open, even Ginny has never disclosed such information to me. Experiencing such intimacy with him makes me want to trust him.
I tuck myself into my bed, head swirling with thoughts. And I realize, in the quiet of the empty room, something before a few months ago I would've never thought possible.
I didn't think I'd ever feel this way, that I'd ever get my hard head to soften. This isn't weakness, this isn't loss of control.
I am falling in love with him.
And it feels nice.
So perfectly nice.