Everyone had finished eating. Ginny was walking towards her, holding Hermione's bag out to her.
"Oh! Thank you, Ginny."
"Holy fuck! What did Luna say? Did you bring her to McGonagall?" Ginny steered them towards the ever-moving staircases.
"No – she's, er – quite sure that Theo and she are well matched. She seems happy." Hermione heard her own response, but she felt a bit outside of herself as she spoke.
"Well, that was quite a fucking bludger to the gut. Poor Neville!" Ginny started in the direction of Gryffindor tower.
"Wait a second, why did Luna want you to accompany her?" Ginny remembered, with her mental wheels clearly turning. Hermione could practically hear them moving inside her friend's skull.
"Oh, I've no idea," Hermione stopped and made to turn down a different hallway, "Ginny, I'm actually going to head to the library. Would you like to come?"
"Oh, no thanks. Anthony and I have our Heads meeting with McGonagall in about twenty minutes, and then a strategy meeting with the team." Hermione exhaled an iota. Ginny seemed to have dropped the inquisition into why Luna was requesting Hermione accompany her to retrieve the Slytherins.
"Alright, I'll see you later on, Gin!" Ginny nodded as Hermione took off down another corridor.
She was not going to the library.
Hermione sprinted down the hall towards the group of Ravenclaws heading back to their common room. She spotted Padma and called after her.
Padma turned, her smile falling slightly when she saw Hermione a short distance away.
"Hermione?" She called back, stopping and letting the rest of her house walk ahead.
Hermione jogged to meet her.
"I was wondering if you… if you had a moment to talk. Privately." Hermione glanced around them, speaking in a hushed tone.
"Look, Hermione, I know it must have seemed bizarre the other night, but really, my books were-" Hermione pulled her into the empty classroom on their right.
"It's not that. Well, it sort of is. But it's not in the way you think." Hermione closed the door behind them and cast a muffliato. She wasn't taking any chances as she turned back to face Padma.
"Hermione, you're scaring me a bit." Padma looked at the door nervously.
"Can we just sit down?"
Padma glanced back to Hermione, thinking. She nodded a few moments later, still looking unsure. She and Hermione sat down in the two nearest chairs. Godric, Hermione was nervous.
She had no idea how to start.
Just as she was about to speak, Padma finally let out a long exhale.
"Hermione, could we please keep this conversation to ourselves? I feel like I need to explain."
Hermione felt a bit of her anxiety melt away.
"Of course. I'm happy to take a vow to -" Padma smiled a bit sadly but cut her off.
"You don't need to do that. I trust you to keep your word."
Hermione nodded encouragingly. Of course Padma could trust her. She forced down the impulse to suggest they take a vow of secrecy anyway – Padma didn't know what Hermione was about to tell her. She trusted Padma, too, but she was nothing if not cautious.
"I'm really embarrassed to have been caught that way – I've never done anything like that in my entire life, Hermione. I haven't even told Parvati yet. Every time I try to find the words…"
"I understand, Padma." She didn't. She had no desire to tell anyone what was going on with Malfoy.
"That's sweet of you, but trust me, you've no idea what this is like. I mean – Adrian Pucey?! I don't even know how it happened. One moment I was walking back from the library, and the next, he comes around the corner and crashes into me. My papers flew everywhere, and then he kneeled down to help me pick them up! Have you ever seen a Slytherin be so bloody… helpful?"
Hermione shook her head.
"Never in my life." Padma took a deep breath before continuing.
"Right! And then we're standing back up and he's got a bunch of parchment and he's handing it back to me and we make eye contact and -" Hermione was at the edge of her seat. Padma looked like she was going to have a nervous fit. But then she shook her head and continued.
"And poof. We're looking at each other and I feel this – this – I don't even know what to call it, I mean, that's how irrational it was, Hermione. You can't even imagine how we just connected."
Oh, Hermione could imagine. But go on.
"And then he's just rounding on me, and we're backing into the nearest alcove, and I must have stuffed everything back into my bag without even noticing, because when I got back to my room, it was all in there – I mean, a bit out of order, but all my parchment was accounted for."
Great, Padma. That's a relief.
Then Padma's eyes glazed over a bit.
"And then he kissed me. I mean, I don't even know how long we were standing there before you and Malfoy caught us. It was like I was – I don't know, not here. I was just with him, and we were snogging, and Merlin, Hermione. I can't even explain how it felt."
Bugger, the way Padma was explaining the snogging part was making Hermione curious. What would it feel like? Snogging Malfoy? She immediately snapped out of it and looked back at Padma.
"So, I guess I'm just trying to apologize for you catching us like that – I mean, I have to admit, I'm not even a bit sorry we were snogging, but I really didn't intend to make you uncomfortable."
"Right. No apology necessary. Are you… okay with it?" Hermione treaded lightly. She didn't know much about Pucey besides the fact that he was on probation, just like Malfoy – but she was pretty sure he hadn't actually taken the mark.
"I'm – I am. I can't describe how being around him makes me feel. It's like he completes me or something. It's bizarre, I mean, we hardly know each other."
"But?" Hermione poked.
"But I can't wait to know everything about him. He's so… fit. And he makes me laugh. And he's no idiot, either. I mean he makes me think, Hermione. I'm sure you'll know what I mean when I say this – I can't really take a bloke seriously if he's too stupid to hold a decent conversation."
Hermione could definitely understand that. See Ronald Weasley.
That was unfair. Ron wasn't stupid. Just different than her. In almost every way.
"Padma – well, first of all, I want to let you know I'm happy for you. It sounds amazing, what you and er – what the two of you have." Hermione wasn't sure she could spit out the rest of what she needed to say. Sure, Padma's soulmate was in Slytherin. But he wasn't the Slytherin. He was much less high-profile.
Padma smiled, looking down at her hands. She looked giddy. There was that stupid word again.
"It's difficult to explain, but – I actually – I understand what you mean better than you'd think. I won't tell a soul about your – relationship." Padma nodded at her to continue, a hint of confusion beginning to creep across her features.
"And I need you to promise to do the same. Because, well, what I'm about to tell you – it's alarming. I'm alarmed." Hermione continued. Now Padma looked scared again.
"What I'm trying to say is – I understand what you mean because I – I've found my soulmate, as well. I don't know that I'd use that word, actually, but I certainly felt the thing. The poof you were talking about."
"Really?! Oh – that's wonderful, Hermione! Who is he?! Or – she? No judgment." Hermione actually laughed at that. She'd always preferred Padma to Parvati, to be honest. There was a reason Parvati and Lavender got on so well – may Lavender's soul rest peacefully. She could be dreadfully shallow at times. Hermione instantly felt guilty for thinking it, but snapped her attention back to Padma, who now looked a bit stunned. She definitely thought Hermione's soulmate was another witch. God, that would've been so much less complicated.
"No – thank you, Padma. You're sweet. But it is definitely a he."
"Oh, then, who is it?! It couldn't be Ron – you haven't seen him! Oh, the Prophet had to have lost money since you ended things with him. Nothing to write about. Sodding cockroaches, they are."
"It's Malfoy." Hermione almost yelled it. She just needed to say it.
Padma looked up, still angrily thinking about the gossip columns in the Prophet.
"What's Malfoy?" Oh, gods. Padma needed her to say it again.
Hermione put her face in her hands.
"That's why I suggested the vow of secrecy, Padma. My soulmate. It's Draco Malfoy."
She was afraid to look up. Padma was dead silent.
Then, Hermione felt Padma pulling her hands from her face and leaning forward to hold them in her own.
"Oh – Hermione. When?" She looked at Hermione with actual pity. It made Hermione feel both better and worse at the same time.
"The other night. On patrol. Oh god, it was… not long after we saw you and Adrian. We started to argue, and we both said some things, but then he had me against the wall -" Padma flinched.
"He what?!" Oh, shit.
"No – not like that. It was an intense exchange – we were arguing. He didn't really do anything wrong; I don't even think he meant to." Was she… defending his behavior? That was a strike against her own civility. She continued.
"But it was – it was just like you said. Suddenly we were in each other's personal space. And then he brought his face close to mine, and we – just clicked. I mean, I was looking at Draco sodding Malfoy, like I have a million times before, against my will I might add, but it was like I was seeing his perfect fucking face for the first time in my life. For a second, I felt like I literally needed to climb into his fucking skin. What is that? I mean, really, he was glowing! For a fucking minute, I swear to Godric, Padma – the sun was shining out his arse."
"Hermione – I don't think I've ever heard you curse so much in my life. Go on." Padma looked enthralled. Just wait, Padma.
"Right – sorry about that. Well, yeah but then shit obviously hit the fan. I mean I know I've mentioned it, but its Draco Malfoy. So, we have this absolutely stunning moment, and then a second later, he's jumping back like I've hexed him. And then the twat had the nerve to ask me what I'd done. I mean, honestly! And then he started fucking running, literally sprinting to finish the patrol," Hermione paused to take a breath.
"Oh my go- shit, Hermione. I keep forgetting you were in the middle of your rounds." Padma looked genuinely pained at the idea of it.
"I know. And then, I mean I didn't really know for sure that it was the potion when it happened. I suspected, of course. I mean, it's difficult to explain it without literally saying you felt like your magical core was being sealed. I was so angry at him, though, I just said it. I told him I hadn't done anything – that our souls were just – doing whatever they did. And by the time we were done with patrol, he was hauling towards the dungeons. I mean, I wanted to get away from him too, but still. And then he told me to keep my mouth shut – told me I was delusional, and not to embarrass myself. I let him have it after that."
Padma shook her head and crossed her arms.
"What a dickhead."
"Right?! And then the very next morning, after he gaslit me, he had the audacity to sit right behind me in Charms and speak to me! In front of other people." Hermione couldn't believe his nerve as she continued with her word vomiting on Padma.
Padma laughed at that. But she wasn't looking at Hermione like she had been moments ago when she'd called him a dickhead. She was much less incensed. Whatever, Hermione continued.
"And then he smirked at me all day, and I thought for sure – I'm going to die in Arithmancy. It's a small class, I really only know him and Blaise – I mean, I don't know them, but you know what I mean."
Padma nodded.
"And then he didn't show up. I was over the bloody moon, I mean, the terms of his probation explicitly state that he cannot skip any classes. I did a fucking jig in my head at breakfast this morning when I saw he wasn't there, either. I hoped he'd been taken into custody, the prat!"
"Hermione – you know he caught the bug going around, don't you? Him and Theo Nott – I hate to be the one to tell you," Padma cringed as she broke the news that wasn't actually news to Hermione.
"No, I know. That's actually why I came to find you. At the end of dinner, Luna asked me if I'd like to accompany her to the hospital wing to retrieve Theodore and Malfoy. In front of everyone, she asked that! I almost died!"
"Why would she ask you – oh." Padma's eyes widened in recognition. She was quite smart, Hermione thought. She appreciated Padma's ability to keep up.
"Yeah. That was a great shock. Luna and Nott." Hermione's shoulders slumped, her body tiring after the whole retelling.
"But, I'm not sure I understand – why did you come to find me? How did you know that – well, about Adrian?" Padma looked confused.
"Well, Luna actually set me straight in a sense. I was being a bit insensitive in my handling of her news, and my response to her recognition of my – er, predicament. But she suggested I speak with you, that you might be more helpful to me than she was – seeing as though she's quite pleased with her mate." Hermione cringed at the word.
Padma giggled in disbelief.
"Hermione, I swear – Luna is more Ravenclaw than any of the rest of us. People think she's brainless, but nothing gets past her. I haven't said a word to her, or anyone, about Adrian. I've no idea how she knew."
"I know. I mean, I was a bit suspicious that something was going on, but only because I saw the two of you the other night," Hermione shook her head, impressed, "but yeah, now you're up to date. I didn't go with Luna to the infirmary, obviously. I have no idea what I'm going to do."
Padma stood and pulled Hermione to her feet, hugging her. That was two hugs from people today. Hermione wasn't much of a hugger, but she patted Padma on the back gently. She appreciated the gesture.
"Hermione, I won't lie to you – you've got a bit of a messy situation here. And I thought Adrian was bad," Padma didn't mean to insult her, she really just blurted it out, "Oh, gods, I'm sorry. I don't mean it like that. But you and Malfoy… you've always despised one another. In general, the tension between your friends and him – I'm sorry you'll have to try to build that bridge. It's unfair to you."
"Build a bridge? Oh, Padma – I won't be doing anything of the sort. I've reached out to Shiptrill – it seems I don't have a way out of it, but I'm working on coming to terms with it. I'll just be dying alone."
"Hermione. Don't be daft. You won't be dying alone. How long can you honestly hold out on Malfoy?"
"Hold out on him? We hate each other!" Hermione had been wrong earlier. Padma was not following along as well as she thought.
"Well, you definitely have a tumultuous history. But… you said yourself. It took him one night's sleep to throw caution to the wind. That's why he tried to rile you up in Charms – he's pursuing you."
Hermione's jaw dropped. She hadn't considered that possibility. She still wasn't really willing to consider it.
"Padma, he's trying to torture me. Just like always." Padma led Hermione towards the door of the classroom, opening it as she turned back to Hermione.
"Hermione – take it from someone who is – embracing the impact of the magic. Putting himself closer to you like that – he'd only be torturing himself. That's not really in Malfoy's nature. He's trying to be with you. In his own… way." She patted Hermione's arm as she walked out the door, heading back in the direction she'd been going when she had been stopped before. She turned and called back to Hermione.
"It's going to be alright, Hermione. I'll see you tomorrow."
Hermione nodded and then leaned her weight against the heavy door. Great. Another problem she needed to closely analyze.
Chapter 15: Fifteen
Notes:
In which Draco leaves the infirmary.
Chapter Text
Draco had finally begun to feel better. It was nearly 7 PM before Pomfrey told them they were permitted back out into the general population. Thank fucking gods. He might be a little rundown, but he wasn't puking – hadn't puked since the wee hours of the morning, and he wasn't out of his fucking mind either, a symptom that seemed specific to Theo's case.
As they started towards the exit, Theo's bloody soulmate came skipping towards them. She skipped. Fucking weird as hell. At least Granger walked normally, like she had a stick up her arse. Alright, that's enough compliments paid to Granger in his own mind for one day.
"Hello, Theo. You look well. Hi, Draco Malfoy." The brainless witch smiled at him like she was high on fumes.
"Hi, Luna," Theo was smiling at her, "you didn't have to come retrieve me. I would have come to you."
"Oh, I know, but I've been meaning to take inventory of the faerie count at the edge of the forest, and I didn't want to head out without seeing you."
"Goodbye, Nott." Draco started marching away from the two of them as quickly as he could. She was nuts, he couldn't even stand to listen to it. Bless Theo's dumb soul.
"See you later, mate." Theo called after him. Draco was beginning to think he might revoke Theo's status as a mate. He was also really starting to second-guess the sorting hat's abilities. Loony was dumb as a stump – how the fuck could she be in Ravenclaw? Not that he particularly liked Ravenclaw, but it was at least a bit better than Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, who were tied for fucking last.
He was quickly depleting his energy – he felt better, but he was still fucking beat. At least he'd made it far enough from Theo and Lovegood that they were out of earshot. He stopped for a moment and leaned against the windowsill, catching his breath. Thank fuck no one else was around – Malfoy's didn't pant.
And then he heard it. Some girl's voice.
"It's going to be alright, Hermione. I'll see you tomorrow." And then whichever the fuck Patil that was came around the corner. He straightened up, pushing himself off the wall before she saw him.
She turned her head back around and jumped upon seeing him. She swallowed and looked down, hurrying past him.
She must've been the one in Ravenclaw.
Wait – had she said Granger? Oh, he felt better already. He picked up the pace, rounding into the next corridor. And there she was – that little fucking feeling in his chest that had been bothering him since yesterday finally faded. She was leaning against a door looking out the window across from her, biting her bottom lip in concentration. He liked that, too.
He felt his face shift into his signature smirk. He was locked in on his prey. She looked fucking flustered and nervous, just how he liked it. And she hadn't even seen him yet.
Her hair was pulled back again – and he nearly stopped in his tracks. For a muggleborn swot… she really did look pretty damn decent.
And then she turned. She saw him, her cute fucking eyes widening as when she realized he was only moments away from trapping her.
"Granger, a word?" Fuck, what was he going to say? He hadn't expected to get a chance to corner her this soon. He figured he'd have to wait at least until breakfast.
"I'm all set, actually." She turned on her heel before he could reach her and took off in the opposite direction. But he was bigger and faster.
He grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn around. She ripped it away from him like he'd bloody burned her. How dramatic.
"Let go of me, Malfoy." Draco put both hands in the air and sidestepped, backing her against the wall without touching her. He left a bit more room between them than he'd have liked to, but he didn't want any screeching this soon after being discharged. He was recovering.
"Alright, Granger – I'll keep my hands to myself," he smirked as he got a step closer, "but I can't do that. Let you go, I mean. I understand that this thing between us – it's for life." He really smiled now. She was stunned. Not that he really expected any Granger for life shit. He still wasn't really buying into the whole potion racket, but she didn't need to know that.
She swallowed, drawing his attention down to her neck. He wanted to wrap his hand around it.
"There's nothing between us." She was doing the squeaky voice. How cute.
"Oh, don't hurt my feelings now. You said it the other night, not me. We're soulmates." He almost choked on the word but kept it together. He figured now would be a good time to let her know they'd be spending Thursday evenings together. It spoiled the fun of surprising her tomorrow, but he never claimed to be a patient person.
"I don't care what we are, Malfoy. You've treated me like shit on the bottom of your shoe from the moment you knew who and what I was. You're a blood purist, remember? And I'm a filthy mudblood." She swallowed again. He didn't like the way the word sounded coming from her mouth, or any mouth these days, really.
"But trust me, no matter how dirty you think I am, you couldn't possibly be as disgusted as I am by you." Well, he didn't expect her to regain her wits that quickly. His anger flared.
"Fuck off, Granger. I know I was a bit of a shit when we were younger, but I don't give a flying fuck about your blood. I don't care about those things anymore." It was true. He hadn't given a shit – ever, if he really wanted to be honest. But he definitely dropped the charade when the Dark Lord became their houseguest. The fucking snake was a half-blood himself. And he didn't hesitate to sit his undead arse in Father's chair, in the home of one of the oldest wizarding families in existence. None of those fucking idiots seemed to notice he was preaching about purity despite his own muggle sperm donor.
Granger scoffed and crossed her arms.
"That's rich, Malfoy. You don't care about blood status anymore. Would that have anything to do with the fact that you're on probation, with strict instructions about what constitutes acceptable behavior? Wizengamot got your tongue?" Fuck, she was quick with it.
"No, Granger. I promise, please trust me," he placed his hand over his heart, not missing the way she stared at his fingers, "you'll need to, if this is all going to work." He knew he was being a dick. He just didn't know how else to keep her near him. That little chest thing was quite fucking annoying, but it wasn't bothering him while she stood in front of him.
She looked around them at the empty corridor.
"Careful, Malfoy. Don't go making any announcements. Someone might hear you – you don't want to humiliate yourself." Using his own words? Against him?! He smirked at her. He decided not to hide that he was impressed. He brushed his tongue over his teeth, watching how she immediately looked at his mouth when he did it. Good.
"Granger – I'll own it. I reacted a bit… rashly the other night." He leaned in towards her, inches from her face now.
"But I'll try to be a bit nicer to you. We're going to be spending a lot of time together, after all." Now she looked confused. He'd decisively retaken the lead.
"What are you on about now?" She asked, her voice raising in – panic? Relax, Granger, he wasn't going to bite.
Not unless it would add to the overall experience.
"Have you not spoken to Pansy? She's traded her Thursday evening shift with me. Quidditch conflict – the Headmistress has already approved." Now Granger looked upset. Was she going to fucking cry? That wasn't fun to him, actually.
Then her expression hardened, and she lifted her chin up.
"Was there something else you needed, or is that all?" Now it was his turn to look surprised. He knew he'd rattled her. Where was the rest of her reaction? Was he losing his edge?
"That'll be all, swot. You're dismissed." He glared down at her.
Then she fucking put both of her little baby hands on his chest and shoved him backwards. Pretty forcefully, he might add. He didn't think she had it in her. He actually moved a little.
She stormed off, leaving him staring at her backside.
"Hands to yourself, Granger. Oh – and thanks for the view – not bad." She nearly stopped walking at that. He saw her get all fucking stiff, but then she continued stomping out of sight.
He smirked to himself. He'd managed to get the last word.
Chapter 16: Sixteen
Notes:
In which Draco reacts with violence.
Chapter Text
Draco decided not to insert himself too far into Granger's personal space during the following day. There'd be plenty of time for that tonight. He figured he'd settle for a few glances from across the Great Hall. She had such an expressive fucking face – just catching her staring and watching her eyes get all wide left him satisfied.
But he did feel a bit odd.
It was strange. He knew he had her fully off kilter, and yet he still didn't feel like his usual self. Normally, it brought him great joy to watch people squirm. With Granger it felt… wrong, if he wanted to be totally honest. Which he didn't.
And then at dinner, after he so considerately left her alone during Arithmancy despite having every opportunity to fuck with her head, he found he was actually… what the fuck was that? His stomach felt all fucked up. He felt… worried.
He didn't want to make her truly upset. He just liked to spar with her. She could keep up – she'd proved that over and over again.
Yeah, that's what it was about Granger. She kept him on his toes – he never knew what the fuck she'd say next. But it was guaranteed to be pretty smart.
He rolled his eyes at his own inner monologue. Fucking gods, the past 12 hours had shaken things up. Ever since he'd first been made aware of the potion mandate, he'd been totally unconcerned. He knew that soul bonding and soulmates and all the rest of that bullshit was real to other people. But for him, all the shit that came with it – being in love, giving a shit about another person, being committed – he had no interest in any of it. So, sure, maybe he and Granger might have fit together or whatever. But as much as people wanted to say they resealed one another's bloody cores – it couldn't change the fact that Draco Malfoy didn't care.
Except now he thought maybe he fucking did. And it pissed him off.
It hit him hard as he stared at her from across the room that he really didn't want to fucking scare her. And he also wasn't pleased that she didn't seem to believe he'd discarded any interest in blood status.
She was supposed to be his fucking soulmate – he was allowed to want to get a few things straight, wasn't he?
Before he could think more on that, Blaise interrupted.
"Who're you looking at, Draco? The Golden Girl or the Weaslette?" God fucking damnit, Blaise. Shut up. He snapped his focus over towards his friend, who at least had the sense to speak quietly enough so no one else heard.
"What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not looking at either one of them," he spat back, trying to avoid bringing anyone else into the discussion. Theo, Pucey and Daphne seemed to be quite invested in their own discussion. Pans and Astoria were having a quiet secret session of their own. Damnit, now he was curious. Blaise's voice brought his focus back to their exchange.
"I'm not going to lie, mate, Weasley looks pretty fucking good this year. It's too bad it's all wasted on Potty's jumpy ass." Draco smirked. Blaise was onto something there, although he hadn't really looked at the She Weasel long enough to decide whether she was good looking. Not really his taste.
"But Granger… oh, Granger. It's almost funny how good she looks. Hottest one of all of them, not just Gryffindor." Actually, Blaise better get the fuck off of whatever he was onto. Draco felt a surge of possessiveness that he couldn't rationalize. He clenched his fists so hard that his short nails dug into his skin.
"Did you see her arse in those muggle-" Before Blaise could say another word, Draco had grabbed him by the throat, smashing his back into the wall behind the bench they were sitting on.
"Holy fuck, Draco, what are you doing?!" Pansy was up and yanking on his arm before he could even recognize what he'd done – and worse – why he'd done it.
He dropped his arms and his eyes widened as he looked at his best mate. Blaise didn't even look angry – just fucking stunned.
Blaise brought his own hands up to his neck, rubbing at it like he couldn't believe Draco's own had been there a second before.
Shit – physical violence. That was definitely not allowed.
Draco turned back around and glanced towards the Professors table. By the grace of fucking Salazar himself, none of them were looking in his direction. None of them had seen.
Blaise shoved him, bringing him back to reality.
"What the fuck was that about, Draco?" He still looked more confused than pissed.
"Sit the fuck back down, you idiots!" Pansy was hissing at them now. They immediately retook their seats as she took her own on the other side of Blaise.
"I don't know what the fuck that was about, but the two of you better figure it out. Without fighting. Draco – if you weren't such a lucky bastard, you'd be getting dragged by your hair towards the courtyard. Potter and Weasley would gladly volunteer to be the ones to haul you back before the Wizengamot." Pansy was pissed, but her face was actually just worried. Damn, she deserved better friends.
"Pans, all due respect – I'm just as confused as you are. I've got no issue. Well, now I do, but mainly, I'm fucking confused. Care to explain to us what that was about, Draco?" Blaise was solely pissed now.
Draco looked around. Nearly all of his housemates were staring at him. Then he looked at Theo, who was directly across from him. And he was looking at Draco – through him, really. The fucker smirked. He'd known exactly what it was about. He'd probably even heard what Blaise had said.
"Sorry, mate." Draco looked down. Apologies always tasted like acid in his mouth. That's why he almost never gave them.
Everyone slowly resumed their conversations, but his friends were still staring. When he looked up, his eyes darted over Theo's shoulder.
Of fucking course. Wide brown fucking eyes.
Granger was staring, too.
Draco fucking flew out of the Hall heading in the direction of – actually, he had no fucking clue where he was going. Outside, apparently. As he stormed towards the quidditch pitch without realizing where he was headed, he heard running behind him. He spun around to find Theo and Blaise heading straight towards him. Great. Adrian and Pansy probably weren't far behind.
"Fuck off," he spat as he turned back around and pushed himself out the doors into the fall air. It was still pretty warm, but the summer was ending. No humidity at all.
"Yeah, we'll get right on that," Theo called after him. They were definitely not going to leave him alone.
Finally, once he'd safely made it to the center of the pitch, he stopped fucking running. They caught up within moments.
"Given the fact that I'm the one you just fucking choked, I'd like to point out that you should be pursuing me, mate." Draco turned and looked at Blaise. Fucking Theo was grinning at him. He almost choked a second friend but settled for clenching his fists really fucking hard.
"I said I was sorry. Are you fucking deaf?" Draco spat with nowhere near as much venom as he intended.
"No, but my bloody neck hurts a bit. Apology ignored – tell me why the fuck you just attacked me, maybe?" Blaise was nearly yelling. Blaise never yelled. He didn't lose his composure. Neither did Draco… except for a few minutes ago.
"Please do explain to Blaise why you just jumped him at random, Drake." Draco couldn't stand how not confused Theo sounded. He cringed at the memory Nott had shared when they were in the infirmary. How he himself had almost done the same when Loony had been seated between Blaise and Draco while she spewed strange nonsense.
Blaise looked over at Theo, then back at Draco. Draco sat his arse down, his elbows on his knees. He was still so fucking mad.
"He seems at a loss for words Theo – would you like to share? You seem pretty fucking clear. Which also makes no sense to me at all, since you weren't even speaking to us."
"Sure, mate. You're right – I wasn't. But I did hear what you said." Theo sounded… not like he was baiting Draco. He sounded like he honestly understood. That almost pissed Draco off more. Theo didn't understand – because whatever was going on with him, it wasn't the same as Theo's situation with Loony. Not even close.
"Brilliant, and what the fuck did I say? I'm still not understanding the issue." Blaise's voice was back to its normal level, but he did sound rather bitchy. He didn't like feeling confused. Valid.
Theo glanced down at Draco before he spoke. He took the fact that Draco hadn't lunged at him as a sign that he could continue.
"You were talking about Granger. Her arse, specifically, and how good it looked in-"
"Shut the fuck up." Draco spat. Fuck it all. He wasn't going to bite his tongue – he was too angry for such acts of self-control.
He almost laughed at the look on Blaise's face. He looked manic now. He was even more confused after hearing the beginning of Theo's explanation.
"You should avoid talking about it – talking about her. I'd expect Draco will continue to physically attack you if you don't."
"IS ANYONE GOING TO TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" Draco's jaw dropped as Blaise shouted at them, easily the loudest he'd ever heard him. They'd been friends since they were in nappies.
"He's-" Theo started, but Draco cut him off.
"Shut the fuck up, Theo. I'm going to tell him." Draco said coldly as he braced himself. He didn't even really understand why he'd done it, given he didn't give a flying fuck about Granger or respecting her, but he knew it was the bond. He could tell him that, at least.
"Oh, wow! You'd do that? For me?" Blaise was half shouting, half laughing like a psychopath.
"It's Granger. I shouldn't have grabbed you – I had you against the wall before I could even think about it."
"Granger?" Blaise echoed back. It wasn't clicking, and Draco didn't blame him. This whole fucking situation was completely beyond belief.
"Yeah. Granger. We're… involved."
"You're fucking Granger?!" Blaise gasped.
"No, I'm not fucking her! No one is fucking her!" As far as he knew. He'd fucking kill them.
"You're still holding out on him, mate. Just say it." Theo sat next to Draco, straightening his legs and crossing them in front of him, leaning back on his elbows. Yeah, Theo. Lay down, make yourself fucking comfortable.
"The fucking potion, Blaise. It's her. For me, I mean. The other night she fucking looked at me and bonded me to her. I don't even fucking know."
"Well, I wasn't there to witness it, but to be clear, you probably looked at each other. She didn't force the bond. Your magic and her magic chose one another." Theo sounded so fucking calm. Draco sent daggers at him, and Theo closed his mouth, knowing he was done speaking for the moment.
Blaise collapsed down next to them, elbows on his knees next to Draco.
"No shit," he said distantly, like he hadn't really understood it yet.
They sat in silence for a moment before Blaise started fucking laughing.
"Oh, that's rich, mate. That's just fucking perfect. You fucked with her for all of school, and now you're her bloody knight in shining armor." He laughed harder. Theo started laughing, too, but at least he had the sense to try to cover it with his fist.
Draco didn't see the humor yet. He'd be reporting to fucking rounds with her in an hour. This wasn't a joke.
He glared at both of them.
"Alright, I'm done. I'm done laughing, Draco." Blaise said with a peaceful sigh.
"Now I get it. Downright disrespectful, I was. Talking about Potty's princess like she was a piece of meat." But Blaise had laughter in his voice again.
"Blaise, I'm about to punch you in your fucking face, mate." There was the venom that had been missing earlier. Draco cracked his neck.
"Fuck. You're serious, aren't you?"
"Oh, he's serious," Theo answered.
"Why do you look so fucking upset, Draco? I mean, I know, she's not a pureblood -" Draco cut him off.
"For the last fucking time, I don't fucking care about that shit."
"Alright. I believe you. But from where I'm sitting – and I say this with respect – she's the biggest fucking catch of them all. I already said that – and I meant it. Not to trigger you." Blaise finished.
"Do you have a question then, Blaise? Or are you just going to sit here and fucking tell us what you've been writing about Granger in your diary?"
"Take it easy. I do actually have a question. If it's not blood… what the fuck is the problem?" There it was. Blaise had asked the big fucking question.
"She's fucking GRANGER!" Draco roared.
Theo and Blaise just blinked at him. After a few minutes, all three of them stood up and started towards the castle. Just before they headed back inside, Blaise put his hand on Draco's shoulder.
"I'm sorry that you're struggling, mate. I hate to see you all fucked in the head like this – I'm set on that front. I saw you sixth year, that was quite enough for me."
"Helpful, Blaise," Draco replied.
"No – I mean it. I don't want you to be all fucking tortured like this. So I'm going to say something, and I mean it in the most caring way possible."
Draco stopped and turned to look at Blaise.
"You need to get the fuck over yourself, Draco. You got fucking lucky here. Potter and the Weasel are going to lose their bloody minds. Your father is probably never going to get out of Azkaban to share his opinion, and Narcissa thinks you shit miracles. You didn't even choose it… no one can stand in the way of it, Drake, everyone knows we all took that fucking potion. Whatever the fuck it was. What I'm trying to say is that I really don't see the downside to this for you. She's the one with the problem, considering you seem to have become a bit of a thug. But if you need to talk… I'm here for you." He clapped Draco on the back and walked back inside with Theo, leaving Draco standing in the dark.
Well, fuck.
Chapter 17: Seventeen
Notes:
In which Hermione and Draco embark on their first official patrol.
Content Warning - *tiktok voice* two "best friends" in a room, they might kiss...
Chapter Text
Draco was back in his room, staring at the ceiling. He knew Granger would be making her way down to the dungeons by now. Pansy told him they met outside the common room for rounds.
He needed to get up. But he had too much shit flying around in his head. He was occluding, and still – fucking mayhem.
Granger had seen him choke Blaise at dinner, that was for fucking sure. He was certain she'd be making a comment about that. Which was an issue. He still had no idea how he was going to explain that one. Not that he owed her any explanation.
But what he really couldn't stop focusing on were Blaise's words right before they went back inside.
Why couldn't Draco just fucking enjoy it?
It was true – everyone knew that they'd all taken that bloody potion and that they'd all be pairing off and riding into the bloody sunset. It wasn't like he had asked Granger if they could court.
Theo's words were haunting his shit now, too. Their magic fucking chose each other. Draco put his hand out, wandlessly summoning the flask of Ogden's from his trunk.
If he couldn't force himself to stop thinking… he'd resort to drinking. A sport he was good at.
As he brought the flask up to his lips for a third swig, he heard someone pound on his door.
"What?" He spat as he flung it open.
"Hello to you too, Fight Club." Theo stood outside his door. Whatever that meant.
"Do you need something, Nott?" Draco took a fourth swig, finally feeling himself relax a bit.
"Uh – no, mate. But Granger's waiting for you outside. Looks pretty fucking annoyed – just so you know." Theo turned and headed down the hall towards his own room.
Fuck.
Hermione's foot was tapping impatiently as she stood in the dungeons with both hands on her hips. She hated tardiness. Almost as much as the person who was tardy.
Just as she was about to storm off to tattle to McGonagall, like a grown adult, Malfoy stepped out into the hall, immediately meeting her eyes. He was so stupid handsome she wanted to punch him in the face.
"Good evening, Granger. Did you miss me?"
She rolled her eyes so hard they nearly fell out of her head. She turned and began making her way up towards the first floor. Malfoy caught up to her in three paces.
"Why are you in such a hurry?" He was mocking her. He was using her own words against her.
"Can we please just – get through our rounds, Malfoy?" She was using her whiny voice – she didn't mean to. She really just wanted to get away from him. Well, she didn't. But she also really did.
"Of course we can, Granger. Would you like me to pick up the pace?" He started moving briskly and she groaned.
"Please. A normal speed. I'm not in the mood."
"Strange. I'm always in the mood." Malfoy looked at her with a smirk, his innuendo not lost on her. He was so bloody hot and she couldn't stand him.
"Grow up." It was the best response she could muster as his… playful? mood sent shivers down her spine. He wasn't allowed to look at her like that. He chuckled. Why wasn't he being terrible? Was he feeling alright?
They continued walking for about ten minutes when she noticed him pulling something out of his robes. Then he popped it open and took a swig.
Ah – that's why he was acting slightly less demonic. Draco Malfoy was getting drunk.
"You're pathetic. I hope you know," She said, training her eyes forward on the long, empty corridor before them.
"Why are you being so sweet to me tonight?" Malfoy cooed, not slurring a bit.
She wondered if it was his first drink, or if he just had a really high tolerance. She figured it was probably the latter.
"I'm just surprised is all. You attacked Blaise Zabini less than two hours ago and now you seem… fine."
"There it is, bravo Granger," he glanced down at the watch on his wrist, "and you waited a full 25 minutes before even mentioning it. Is that a personal record?" He didn't sound completely nasty. A bit nasty, sure, but he sounded playful again, too. She was getting confused. He took another swig and she figured she might as well take advantage of his… altered state.
"I'm not sure. It might be. No one has ever thought to time it – how many minutes between when I get curious and when I actually ask my questions."
Draco looked over at her, seeming surprised she was playing along. Like he'd expected her to give him a lecture about the dangers of alcohol.
"I've never waited before." She said honestly, smiling at the mere thought of her younger self not raising a hand.
She supposed she'd never been curious about something like this in the past. Something like this, or someone like him.
Malfoy took yet another swig. Then he looked at her in a way she didn't think he ever had before. The newness stunned her.
"You've never waited, Granger?"
Oh, come on. It'd fallen into his bloody lap. He wasn't drunk yet. He was just well on his way. And then Granger had smiled and looked all fucking sweet. And she'd said she never waited before. To ask a question in class. Draco knew what she meant.
But he also had no explanation he was willing to share with her at this point as to why he'd thrown his closest friend into a wall.
So, as they passed Nearly Headless Nick, who ignored Draco's existence and warmly greeted Hermione, Draco decided to fuck with her. He'd let her off easy for the past two days.
"You've never waited, Granger?"
She paled, pretending she hadn't heard him.
"Don't tell me Potty and the Weasel didn't crawl into your sleep sack to keep you warm while you all camped out last year?" Now, she looked pissed. He knew she wouldn't be able to ignore him.
"Unlike you, Malfoy, some of us respect ourselves. Some of us have self-control. And not everyone fucks their friends."
He raised his eyebrows. Granger was cursing freely. Did she have a flask of her own?
They were moving through their rounds quite efficiently. They hadn't run into any feuding first years. Draco decided to stop, after checking there was no one lingering in the corridor they stood in. He leaned back against the window casually.
Granger stopped too, but she hadn't turned towards him yet. That was fine. He'd get her to fucking look.
"It has nothing to do with respect, Granger. Not what I'm talking about."
She'd turned her head, now. He had her attention.
"What exactly are you talking about, Malfoy?"
He couldn't resist. Her cheeks were flushed and her voice was all squeaky. He hardly had a choice in the matter. If he didn't say what he wanted to pretty quickly, she'd start thinking. Which would lead her to resume her usual act – innocent Gryffindor princess. And she might be. But he wanted to know for sure. Wanted to pull it out of her.
"I'm talking about sex, Granger. Fucking. Ever heard of it?" He smirked at her.
"And it's not something everyone wants to wait for. Some of us like instant gratification." He was in his element. This was something he could talk about for days. That, and he wondered the extent of her knowledge. She seemed so innocent.
She didn't say a word. She just gulped. He saw an opening, and he grinned like a Cheshire cat.
He pushed himself off the window, approaching her side slowly like a fucking predator. He supposed he was.
"Tell me Granger," he brushed the lock of hair she'd left loose back from her face. Her fucking neck was on full display again, like it had been all week. Like she got ready each morning with Draco's preferences in mind.
"Tell you what?" She choked, backing into the far wall, with Draco matching each step.
"Did you fuck your friends? Last year, in the woods?" Her eyes got wider than he'd ever seen them. She was incensed.
"Of course I didn't!" Oh, that was interesting.
"Not even Weasley? I find that hard to believe, Granger. The Weasel never fucked you? Did he even try?"
"Stop it." She looked down at her hands, her back against the wall as Draco took another step towards her. He couldn't take another step if he wanted to. He'd crush her.
"You're a virgin, aren't you, Granger? Of course you've never fucked your friends. You've never fucked anyone."
He had her right where he wanted her. Okay, scratch that. She looked like she might start crying. He didn't take pleasure in that.
But suddenly, he needed to know for sure. Needed to hear her say it. Not just to mess with her head – for his own sanity.
"Why are you doing this, Malfoy?" The tears fell down her cheeks. He was embarrassing her. It really wasn't what he'd been trying to achieve. He just needed to know no one else had ever touched her. That possessive fucking rage was starting to rear its head, just like it had at dinner.
He reached up to wipe her tears. For fucks sake, what was he, her fucking mummy?
But he couldn't help it. His next words came out before he could stop them.
"I'm not trying to make you cry. You've been driving me fucking crazy."
"What do you mean?" He saw something different in her eyes. He glanced to his right, hearing a shuffle.
Some fucking first year had come down the corridor. She looked bloody terrified.
Granger immediately opened her mouth to call out to the little witch. But before she could say anything, the girl had spun and run out of sight.
Finally. A bitch who could take a hint.
Granger snapped her gaze back towards him. But now, he was annoyed. He wanted privacy. He wanted to not worry about Granger and her heroism chasing another lost first year to hold their hand and walk them back to their common room.
So, he grabbed her by the arms, maneuvering her back into an alcove, out of anyone else's sight.
"I can't stop fucking looking at you Granger. I don't know where you've been hiding. But I
can't-" he looked down at her mouth and then back to her eyes, which seemed to be snapping back up from his own lips. "I can't fucking take not knowing."
She gulped.
"Knowing what?" She was fucking whispering.
"Have you ever had sex before, Granger?"
Draco. Bloody. Malfoy.
It was like he'd watched her favorite fantasy on film. He'd actually said it.
He'd told her she was driving him crazy.
Maybe he was drunk. She didn't even know. But she couldn't stop herself from letting him push her around. It felt… good. To let someone else be in control of things.
And when he'd driven her backwards into the alcove, she'd almost smiled at him. She felt much more comfortable back here. Like they had some privacy.
"I can't fucking take not knowing."
It took everything in her to not continue staring at his mouth. She swallowed again.
"Knowing what?"
He took another step forward. They were up against the window in their little nook. His hands were still at his sides.
"Have you ever had sex before, Granger?"
She knew what he was going to ask.
Normally she was shy about her experience. Or lack thereof. But for some reason, she knew the truth would only please him. And she wanted to please him. It wasn't rational.
She tilted her chin up toward him. She steeled herself for whatever reaction he might give her. Maybe he'd make her feel stupid. Her stomach flipped at the thought.
But then, he was putting his hands against the wall on either side of her head. He was leaning down to look at her again. She knew it – she really was driving him insane.
"No." She said it without frowning or looking away.
"No."
Everything fucking stopped. The world ceased to turn.
Because Granger was fucking his. Not because they'd discussed it. Because their magic chose to make it so.
And she'd never fucking slept with anyone. He knew it was true.
He fucking groaned.
"Why?" He ground out the word, bringing his face even closer to hers. He was going to fucking kiss her. He knew it now. Nothing could stop it.
She looked down at her hands. Fuck. Look back up at me, Granger.
She was embarrassed. Embarrassed that she'd never let anyone stumble in between her legs. God, she was fucking cute.
"Look at me." She looked up. Good listening, Granger.
"Don't mock me, Malfoy. It's just never felt rig-" He cut her off.
He dove, attacking her mouth with his own.
All she could feel was his mouth on hers. All she heard was a moan. Was that her?
His lips felt soft. She had no idea what to do with her hands.
Before she could make a fool of herself, he grabbed her hands and wound them around the back of his neck. Then he grabbed her sides, just below her breasts and pulled her flush against him.
His tongue swiped against her bottom lip. She immediately opened her mouth, wanting to feel every part of him she could.
She dug her nails into the base of his skull. She couldn't help it – she felt his soft hair tickling the tops of her fingers. She wanted to pull at it. But before she could think more of it, his hands drifted south. They were safely secured at her sides, now. If he moved a few inches in the right direction, he'd be able to grab her arse. Or, if he moved in the other right direction, he could press on the throbbing between her legs. She wouldn't stop him.
She couldn't think about anything else but how good it felt. How good he felt, against her. Their tongues intertwined and his hands exploring.
She was a virgin. But she'd also never been snogged. Not like this.
And as she tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, not even thinking about what she was doing, he pulled back to stare at her. His eyes were black. She'd never seen him like that. She'd never seen anyone like that.
Had she done something strange? Did she bite down too hard?
"Granger…" his eyes raked down at her body. She felt bare despite her modest robes. She looked down at herself, too, suddenly insecure.
She backed up against the wall again, trying to get some distance, even as her body screamed at her to sink into his.
"What?" She was whining. She didn't mean to.
He suddenly looked pained. She looked down at his body. She nearly yelped when she noticed a growing bulge in his trousers. It was so close to her.
"Do you see what you're doing to me?" Her eyes snapped back up to his face. She was suddenly aware that he'd caught her gaping at his hard on.
"I'm – am I doing this right?" She didn't even recognize her own voice. She knew she hadn't done anything terribly… incorrect. But she suddenly needed to hear him tell her. Tell her she hadn't made a fool of herself. She needed Draco fucking Malfoy to reassure her.
He laughed.
She almost threw up. He was about to fucking humiliate her – she shut her eyes, willing herself not to cry. But then he'd leaned forward. And she felt his tongue tracing along her jaw. Until his mouth was right next to her ear. She jumped when she felt his teeth graze her lobe.
"Granger. You're fucking perfect."
She blinked up at Malfoy, trying not to smile shyly.
Then she shook her head to clear her thoughts. This was Draco Malfoy she was hiding in an alcove with.
They'd just snogged. While they were supposed to be doing their rounds.
She straightened up and he instantly took a step back to give her room to move.
"We need to finish the patrol." He glanced at his watch and shrugged, not disagreeing and letting her pass by him as she emerged back into the empty corridor.
Chapter 18: Eighteen
Notes:
In which Hermione and Draco reflect.
Chapter Text
45 minutes later, after a completely uneventful shift – er – a shift without any fights needing to be broken up, Hermione wasn't quite sure how to… leave off.
She and Malfoy slowed to a stop at the set of stairs that he would need to descend to get back to Slytherin. She needed to take a right towards the tower.
He hadn't continued to slug the contents of his flask.
He'd been drinking firewhiskey. She could taste it on him, could taste it in her own mouth after they parted. She had a feeling that's what it was even before they'd attacked one another. She could smell whiffs of it during the first part of their patrol.
He smelled good.
It wasn't just the slightly spicy cinnamon scent of his breath. His skin smelled like… a man. It was the best way she could describe it. Almost minty, mingling with very expensive cologne. Maybe a bit of aftershave. But he hadn't doused himself in it.
It was almost like it was in his pores – he smelled like him.
Before Hermione could awkwardly try to say goodnight to Malfoy, who she felt even more confused about, given their... activities, Seamus and Dean came bounding up the staircase.
They must've been coming from the Quidditch meeting Ginny had mentioned earlier. Which meant her closest friend was likely going to come running up the stairs any minute herself.
"You alright there, Hermione?" Seamus called loudly, shooting a scowl in Malfoy's direction. Malfoy didn't flinch, just let his features settle into their signature sneer. Lovely. That'd win him some new friends.
"Oh, fine, I'm – Malfoy and I were just finishing our patrol."
Seamus and Dean had passed Malfoy and now stood in the space between she and her… whatever he was.
"Goodnight, Granger. Thomas." Draco hardly glanced at her, stiffly nodding in Dean's direction. He turned sharply and headed down the stairs without so much as acknowledging Seamus.
"Right fucking tosser." Seamus grumbled loudly, ensuring Malfoy would catch the comment as he moved quickly away. Hermione stared at the back of his head as he continued his descent without so much as flinching at her housemate's words.
"Mate, you seem like you're itching for a fight. Bit grumpy. Let's get you tucked into bed." Dean joked, pinching Seamus' cheek dramatically as the three of them began walking towards the Fat Lady's portrait. Seamus swatted him away.
"Oh, come off it, Dean. Like that death eater piece of shite doesn't deserve a regular fist to the face." Dean laughed and shook his head at his friend, not nearly as bothered by the Slytherins. Maybe Dean wouldn't shun Hermione when everyone found out about their connection. Whatever it was.
Hermione pulled ahead of the boys as they climbed through the portrait hole and headed straight to her room, calling a polite farewell over her shoulder.
As she grabbed her robe and wrapped it tightly around herself, picking up her towel and heading towards the showers, Hermione slowly began trying to unpack what the hell had happened recently. First of all, Padma had… not judged her for her Malfoy problem. She'd been supportive, even made Hermione rethink the tactics Malfoy had been using. Maybe he wasn't only trying to torture her. Maybe he felt the pull towards her, too.
As she stepped under the hot water, she tried to think logically about his behavior.
Was he just trying to get in her knickers? Why was he so insistent on verifying she'd never slept with anyone else? She nearly dropped the bottle of shampoo in her hand.
Would he use that against her? Advertise to anyone who'd listen that Swotty Granger was an uptight little virgin?
But she didn't really think that was why he'd asked. He seemed to relax considerably upon her confirmation. He'd been vile in his accusations about her relationships with Harry and Ron – really, it was none of his damned business.
But in the end, she felt like she needed him to know she hadn't ever even considered it. Well, she'd wondered in the past about whether her first time would be with Ronald. She had always just assumed it would be – back before she realized she had never actually tried to do anything more that kiss him because… she didn't want to. It wasn't like that with him. She saw him no differently than she saw Harry.
But then Hermione started thinking about Malfoy's dating history. If you could even call it that.
She didn't think he'd ever actually dated anyone. She thought he and Pansy were together at the beginning of term, but Pansy had nearly laughed her off the continent when she brought it up. Maybe they were just friends.
Although Hermione hadn't been at school last year, she wasn't an idiot.
She remembered all the rumors about Malfoy's many escapades starting during their fourth year. Slytherins and Gryffindors had always despised one another, as a matter of principle – as a matter of tradition, really – but even her girlfriends had whispered about him in the dorms when they gossiped.
Not even the lions were immune to Malfoy's charm. Except for Hermione. She'd wrinkled her nose in disgust as Lavender recounted to all of them the things she'd heard about his sex life.
He'd ticked off name after name, older witches in years above them, beautiful young women. Hermione suddenly felt like the most mediocre person he'd probably ever looked at. Mediocre was probably being generous.
And she didn't say that because she lacked confidence. She just knew she didn't hold a candle to the names she'd heard listed as past conquests of his.
She'd even heard he'd slept with Fleur right before the final task. Great. The woman was part Veela – wonderful news. Very helpful information for settling the mind.
As she stepped out of the shower stall, re-fastening her robe and wrapping her towel around her curls to settle on top of her head, she suddenly remembered what had happened at dinner.
She'd never gotten an answer from him about why he could've possibly put his closest friend in a damn chokehold. After he'd manhandled her in the alcove, she'd been knocked off the trail, forgetting it had even happened until now. Hermione had seen the whole thing, watched Pansy spring into action to pull him off of Blaise. Her attention had immediately snapped towards the professors, trying to gauge whether any of them had noticed the scuffle. None of them seemed to be looking. She'd glanced around at her own table, realizing no one else's conversations had lulled at all. Maybe she was going crazy.
Or maybe, she was the only one with a bad new habit of staring at Draco Malfoy.
Draco woke the next morning to the sound of his wand buzzing. He blinked his eyes open, reaching to silence the alarm and collapsing back into his pillows for a moment.
Holy fuck. He'd snogged Granger last night.
Things had seemed more complicated than ever after Blaise's parting words the evening before. He had no idea at the time how he was going to get through an entire two hours with the very object of his frustration. Confusion. Whatever she was.
So yeah, he'd gotten a bit drunk. But as he took inventory of his health that morning, he found he wasn't the slightest bit hungover.
Because from the moment he'd kissed her, he hadn't touched the flask again all night . He was good and well fucked up on the entire experience. He didn't need any more shit anywhere near his mouth.
Fuck, he felt himself harden at the thought of kissing her.
It'd been part of the plan to see if he could get into Granger's pants. It hadn't been part of the plan to get a boner at the mere memory of a snog.
That was bloody new.
But it hadn't really felt like a snog to him. He'd had plenty of those under his belt. He was sure he couldn't even remember all the times he'd stuck his tongue down a witch's throat. That was not what he and Granger had done.
Her apprehension and neediness had only made it feel deeper for him. He normally hated a bitch who required reassurance. If he was getting anywhere near someone, by choice, he didn't understand their need to be coddled. He just wanted to get to the good part, no talking, not even much eye contact.
But when Granger needed his guidance – fuck – his reassurance, he'd given it to her without the slightest hint of annoyance. It made him feel even more fucking feral. When she whined, he could tell she was surprised by her own tone of voice – they were both acting on instinct. And Granger's instinct had been to follow his lead and ask if she was doing it right.
He fucking relished in it.
But she was still fucking Granger. And he was Draco Malfoy. She was his polar opposite in almost every way, and they didn't even fucking know each other. Not really.
Sure, they knew a lot about each other simply because they'd grown up together. More accurately, they'd grown up near each other.
Yeah. He knew quite a bit about her, and she him, he assumed. But he didn't know shit about what she liked or even her favorite subject.
Scratch that. He was pretty sure it was Arithmancy, if memory served. Fuck, was it Charms?
Then he shot straight up in his bed. Why the fuck should he be worried about which class she liked best?
None of this was part of the fucking plan. The plan that had been in motion for less than a week. He'd made her cry, snogged her, spent an evening in the infirmary and topped it all off with assaulting Blaise. Nothing was going the way it was supposed to. He was supposed to keep his head down until graduation.
Walking into this year, he'd known about the potion he'd have to take, but he wasn't all that interested in how that might change things. He didn't give a shit about any of that mating trash, and he'd planned to behave exactly how he used to.
Like a nymphomaniac. But with class. He didn't need to make a big show of who he was fucking or where he was doing it. He was pretty sure his performance would speak for itself. All he had to do was show up.
But with only another week or so left in the first month of school, he hadn't fucked anyone or anything besides his own hand.
Daphne and Astoria were both feigning purity, trying to sink their claws into a decent betrothal contract. Besides, Astoria fucked like a statue – in that she hardly fucking moved, and if she did, it was stiff and cold – and Daphne, who wasn't half bad in the sack, still didn't fall among his best options.
For all the time they'd spent together, he'd never slept with Pansy. She was like his fucking sister, honestly. He knew she'd spent a few nights with Cassius Warrington during fifth year – fuck, maybe it was sixth. He didn't remember.
He also didn't really want to think about it, either. He had a bit of a protective streak when it came to Pansy. And not in a fucking Weasel-type way. He wasn't a territorial dolt. He just… gave off pretty intimidating energy. It had been effective in getting Flint to fuck off when he started showing some interest in Pansy. Like he'd let that pig mess with her head.
Besides his own parents, Draco supposed he'd only ever given half a shit about the four people he spent almost all of his time with. He and Pucey had always been mates through quidditch, even though their parents didn't socialize all that much. Theo and Blaise had been irritating the shit out of him since before any of them could fucking walk, and Pansy had always come to all their parties and events growing up. She became an easy fifth addition to their group when they got to Hogwarts and saw her all the time.
He would fucking laugh every time people associated him with Crabbe and Goyle if it wasn't so bloody insulting. Sure, they were in the same house, and they weren't bad to have around in a bind or if you wanted to scare a Hufflepuff. That was really the extent of their usefulness. They were absolute fucking boneheads without a braincell to rub together between the two of them. Certainly not now that Goyle was rotting in Azkaban and Crabbe was rotting in whatever was left of the Room of Hidden Things. Or, more specifically, covering it in his ash and dust.
What a pleasant thought.
Regardless, the point was that he could count the number of non-family members he gave a flying fuck about on one hand, and he didn't like the effect Granger was starting to have. Blaise had asked him what the problem was, and he honestly didn't know how to answer. It was just the principle of it.
But the wheels were certainly starting to come off the bloody carriage. He needed to figure out what the fuck to do.
Chapter 19: Nineteen
Notes:
In which Draco decides to push the envelope.
Chapter Text
Draco continued to seat himself as close to Granger as possible. She was wearing her hair down today, unlike last night and the entire week to now. He yet he found he still… didn't hate it.
Which was, of course, incredibly concerning. He'd spent his entire career finding new ways to describe her hair to humiliate her – and now, he just wanted to fucking run his fingers through it and then yank on it, just to see how she'd react.
In fact, now that he didn't have a full view of her neck to distract him, he sat in Transfiguration thinking about how he'd quite like to wind her hair around one of his fists and pull on it until she turned around to look at him while her body was bent over the edge of his bed. Or whatever else. He didn't really care where he bent her.
He swallowed and snapped his attention away from the back of her head and towards McGonagall, who was still acting Transfiguration professor for the older students while Flitwick was handing first through fourth years. A shame so many future teachers of the wizarding world had gotten themselves blown to bits last spring.
Gods, if anyone else even spent a fucking minute inside Draco's head, they'd need a lifelong mind healer that took midnight floo calls in case of emergency. Oh, well. Not everyone was capable of thinking so creatively.
As class ended, he snapped his book closed and filed back out into the corridor with the rest of his mates, actually having to force himself not to look for Granger like a kicked puppy. He thought, maybe, he'd force himself not to engage until later on – and then pull a little shit in Arithmancy. He didn't give a fuck about raising any eyebrows among those insignificant Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and Blaise already knew of his plight. Yeah, he was definitely going to get into something with Granger in their last class – he'd so tragically missed two different opportunities while he was infirmed.
Then, after that, he figured he'd dick around and find out a way to insert himself into her weekend plans. He'd probably just have to walk into the fucking library, the great swot.
He was starting to think that potion had altered his bloody biology. The only person allowed to cross his fucking mind this much was Draco himself.
As Hermione made her way to Arithmancy, she found herself approaching the classroom at almost exactly the same time as Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, though they were coming from opposite ends of the corridor. She tried to focus her gaze anywhere but on his perfect pointy face, but she could feel that he was staring directly at her without an ounce of apprehension. It was bizarre. Just jarring behavior from Draco Malfoy.
Zabini continued walking briskly into the classroom while Malfoy slowed a bit, timing it perfectly so they would reach the doorway at the same time. She finally risked a glance up at his face and felt her mouth go dry.
He was smirking down at her, looking quite pleased with himself.
"Afternoon, swot."
"Malfoy," she replied stiffly, unsure how to reconcile her feelings about this utter prat and the version of him she'd wanted to quite literally eat on patrol last night.
"You know, we're going to be spending forever together, Granger," her mouth hung open now, much to his amusement as he continued.
"The least you could do is call me by my given name – or, if that's too much for your little heart to handle, maybe my last name, but nicely - less like it tastes like vinegar in your mouth?"
She folded her arms across her chest with defiance.
"I don't take orders from anyone, you prat." He smiled, as if prat was a term of endearment. "That's something you should be mindful of if you want me to consider gracing you with my presence in the future," she finished angrily.
"Are you sure, Granger?" She looked up at him, not understanding what he meant.
He leaned forward, his mouth near her ear. His voice was low and firm. Her skin prickled… not unpleasantly.
"I think you might find it surprisingly satisfying to follow my orders."
Oh, now he was just playing with her because he could.
"Don't pretend to know anything about what I'd find satisfying, you fuc-"
"Please, Granger," he shushed her, making her blood boil almost painfully, "don't call me those mean names. And what's with all the cursing lately? Besides, I think we both know I got a great idea of what you like last night."
She stomped her foot at him in outrage. How dare he act like he knew a thing about her after one bloody snog!
"After you, Granger. You're beginning to cause a scene." He gave a sharp nod of his chin towards the classroom, gesturing for her to enter ahead of him. What a bloody gentleman.
She gave him one last glare before walking into the room and taking her usual seat in the front. As she huffed out a sigh while pulling her homework from her bag, she froze.
He had a lot of fucking nerve.
Getting under Granger's skin was easily becoming his favorite pastime. He was having great success in riling her up. He was a natural.
Not a surprise. Malfoy's always rose to the occasion.
He was still trying not to laugh as he continuously replayed the image of her stomping her tiny bloody foot at him. Really, she was like a toddler. And people said he was a prat.
When he noticed Blaise had already taken a seat at the table behind the one Granger usually sat at, he had another stroke of genius. He appreciated the fact that Blaise could anticipate his new favored seating in their classes with Granger, but it dawned on him that, without the Weaslette hogging the space next to her, he could easily up the ante.
He nodded his greeting at Blaise with a smirk as he strolled right past the empty chair his mate clearly expected him to sit in. As he heard her let out a long breath of exasperation, he nearly grew wings.
He tossed his textbook right on the table next to her, gracefully pulling the chair back and sitting down, immediately reclining as much as he could while linking both hands together behind his head. He felt like getting real fucking comfortable this afternoon.
She snapped her head to face him, seething in frustration so noticeably, he could almost fucking see it. Like she should have some fucking steam coming out her ears. She was so cute when she got mad.
"What are you playing at, Malfoy?"
"Now, Granger. We've discussed this. I'm not going to respond until you call me by my name, or you adjust your tone."
Other students, whoever the hell they were, began taking their seats and openly staring at Granger and him as they enjoyed some quality time before class.
He heard Blaise's muffled laughter, likely being smothered behind one fist.
"I will not!" She spat, waving her little hands, nearly breaking her fucking muggle quill thing on the desk.
"It's not polite to pout." He replied to her quickly, purposefully using the same voice he imagined one would reserve only for instances where they were addressing a child.
"It's not polite to be a fucking little-" she slammed her mouth shut the moment Professor Vector swept in, greeting the students with her usual sideways glance. He expected Granger quite liked Vector, what with all her rigidity and expectations. Granger probably did the fucking homework for fun.
He dismissed the fact that he personally enjoyed the homework. He'd finished their assignments through November, stopping only when he came upon a problem that required him to think a bit more than he cared to in that moment.
By the time their professor began to speak, Granger had stiffened considerably, slamming her notebook open and beginning to write furiously. He personally thought her intentionally aggressive gestures were a nice touch.
Honestly, Draco usually waffled between paying attention and fucking around with Blaise in Arithmancy. It was a bit more difficult to do the latter while seated next to a mad witch rather than his mate, and it definitely wouldn't be possible if they kept sitting this close to the front. Granger truly needed to learn to have a bit of fun.
Today, he alternated between listening to Vector and jotting down the occasional note of his own, not that he really needed to; and tuning out the professor completely to intermittently glance at Granger. Just to let her know he was there and thinking of her. Just for effect.
And then, to his utter surprise, he was struck with yet another brilliant idea.
Granger had near perfect posture everywhere besides the classroom. Even in the library, she sat up nice and straight. Don't ask him how he knew that.
But she always hunched over her notebook in classes, scribbling down important things, which, by Granger logic, was probably everything that came out of Vector or whoever else's mouth. Regardless, the constant writing gave way to her awful posture, and it left quite a lot of room between the back of her chair and her body. And right now, the back of her chair looked like a perfectly comfy surface for him to stretch his arm towards.
So, before Granger could notice his movements, he threw his long left arm to rest on the back of her chair lazily. Ah, that was so much more comfortable. Positively genius decision.
"You are such a fucker, Drake," he heard Blaise say with amusement, just quietly enough for it to draw Granger's attention away from her parchment without disrupting the lecture. Draco agreed. The paper quite needed a break from her hard-pressed style of writing. He was surprised she wasn't ripping through it with every stroke.
Before Granger could process Draco's readjustment, she leaned back slightly.
Her back immediately pressed against the inner side of Draco's forearm, prompting her to jolt forward, gracefully smashing her upper midsection against the desk with such force that the table moved loudly, scraping against the stone floor.
Draco smiled contently, pretending his attention was completely locked in on the formula Vector's charmed chalk was illustrating on the blackboard. Vector didn't flinch or cease her lecture, but she did lift an unenthused eyebrow and send a brief glare in Hermione and Draco's direction.
Draco tossed a glance over his shoulder to peek at the rest of the room. Nearly everyone was staring in his direction, their eyes darting from him to his arm to Hermione in disbelief. Suzanne or whatever her name was, he was pretty sure she was in Hufflepuff, let her mouth hang open as she stared at them. If she kept it up, she'd catch a fly.
"Get. Your arm. Off. My chair." Granger ground through her teeth, bordering on loud enough for Vector to hear. Draco glanced forward to see, but Vector continued droning on, now looking down at the text and making note of a page number for them to mark.
"Now." Granger was still using her angry voice. Almost a growl, really. He found it hopelessly endearing.
"What's wrong? I'm quite comfortable, and you really can't notice when you're bending over your notes the way you do. You'll give yourself a hunchback." He whispered like he was doing nothing out of the ordinary. He was definitely pushing his luck now, she wasn't pixie. She could be dangerous when she wanted to be. He still wasn't quite ready to retire his arm from her personal space, though. Maybe later.
He shouldn't have been at all surprised, but he wasn't quick enough to react when he noticed a very controlled flick of her wand from beneath her robes.
The whole part of his arm currently resting on her chair suddenly stung like a bitch.
He hissed out in pain, but mainly in shock. She'd hexed him! In front of the bloody class!
As he recoiled, pulling his arm back swiftly, he felt his luck run out.
"Mister Malfoy, would you like to leave?" Vector called harshly.
"I beg your pardon, professor?" He tried to hide the strain in his voice.
"You seem quite focused on Miss Granger, which leads me to believe you must already know everything I'm covering in class today. Perhaps I'm wasting your time?" Fuck.
He needed to not be a piece of shit right now. Getting kicked out of class wasn't listed under 'encouraged activities' from what he could remember of the specific terms of his probation.
Granger stiffened, too, clearly uncomfortable with Vector's explicit mention of his interest in her.
"My apologies, Professor Vector. You've not wasted my time, and I regret to have wasted any of yours. You won't hear another sound from me." Draco was using his best 'speaking to authority instead of speaking with authority' voice. Surely, it went against the laws of nature to submit in a public forum like this.
"I'll not tolerate further interruptions from you, Mister Malfoy." She turned her attention back to her lecture and he let out a very quiet sigh of relief.
Alright, the show was over. He'd fuck off for the rest of class.
