January 7, 1999
"Took you long enough, don't you think?"
"Oh stop it. It's not like that."
"Really? So I didn't see your tongue shoved down Draco Malfoy's throat the other day?" Ginny quipped impassively, absentmindedly searching through the book stacks. "Must've been my imagination."
Knowing it was a moot point trying to silence Ginny, a flustered Hermione bit back all witty responses as an attempt to ignore her. Proving it to be impossible as all of the thoughts and emotions she tried to suppress came flooding back once again.
She thought of the way he felt. The way he tasted. The way he had absolute control over her and she had no desire to fight it. If anything, she wanted it to envelope her. Consume her.
Not that she would ever tell anyone. Especially not Ginny. Maybe if she didn't say anything, she would give it a res—
"Pretending I'm not here won't do you any good, you know. You owe me. I was late to class because of you!"
To which, Hermione let a devious smile grace her features.
"It's not my fault you had to go back for your books."
"I still haven't heard a 'thank you,'" Ginny retorted sharply. "No, 'thanks Ginny for not telling anyone,' or 'thanks Ginny for helping me get my head out of my arse—'"
"Must you be so loud?" Hermione demanded. "Someone could hear you. He's probably in here right now!"
"Hey, you brought this up, not me."
"How? I asked how Quidditch practice was going," Hermione recalled.
"And, who might I ask, do I practice Quidditch with?" Ginny asked, her grin widening. "Was he big? He was, wasn't he?"
"All we did was kiss!" Hermione hissed under her breath. "I didn't touch him there!"
"Oh please," the redheaded witch scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Your legs were wrapped so tightly around him, I'm amazed you didn't cut off his circulation. Come on, Hermione. I know you felt it," she goaded, nudging her shoulder.
"What book were we looking for, again?" Hermione prompted abruptly, her voice fading slightly as she headed to a less crowded section of the library. "You said the nonfiction section, right?"
"You know you're going to have to update me with those details when you eventually shag," Ginny supplied when she caught up to her, nearly running into her back when Hermione suddenly stopped in place.
When they eventually shag.
Merlin, save her.
Hermione swiftly turned to Ginny with a steely expression.
"It won't happen," she said firmly.
"Why not?" Ginny implored. "Clearly you want it to."
Unwelcome memories washed over her as every intimate moment she last shared with Ron was brought to the forefront of her mind. A day she recalled being particularly vulnerable and uneasy. With all of the trauma and grief they endured together in conjunction with the impending trials, it felt like the right thing to do at the time. He'd been seeking assurance and she, comfort. It was only immediately afterwards when they'd both felt the dramatic shift. Followed by the awkwardness. Then ultimately, regret.
Now months later, she was enduring a discussion with Ginny about being physically intimate with another wizard. It didn't take a genius to predict what would have transpired if Ginny hadn't walked in when she did. Hermione had spent the majority of the holidays mentally preparing herself to sever ties with him and his friends for the sake of her own sanity. Then after a single conversation bordering on an argument, she was already letting him snog her senseless on a desk in an empty classroom. She knew at that particular moment that she would have let him do whatever he wanted and the mere fact frightened her.
"I don't know." Lie, screamed her brain. "I'm not even sure what he wants." Not entirely a lie. "This is all still new and we haven't talked about it."
"You've had a week!" Ginny retorted, clearly surprised.
"It's been four days," Hermione corrected smartly, "and we just haven't," she shrugged weakly. "We haven't even spoken since. He's been busy, presumably with quidditch. I've been busy with—" she trailed off, eyes falling on a tattered, worn spine and a familiar title. She plucked it from the shelf for Ginny to examine. "Is this it?"
"Yes, that's the one!" Ginny exclaimed excitedly, holding the book close. "Do continue. Please?" She gestured as they made their way out of the library.
"I can't help but wonder if it was all impulse?" She blurted with a twinge of insecurity. "What if it was a spur of the moment? Something he wanted to get out of his system?"
"Rubbish, and you know it," Ginny provided definitively. "I wouldn't be surprised if he fancied you for years and couldn't act on it until now."
Now that she thought about it, she'd seen glimpses of something inside him that she couldn't decipher before. With the time they spent together, she could feel him opening up to her bit by bit with every word and action exchanged. Even when they sat separately for meals. Like whenever she glanced over and found him already looking back. In spite of the urge to go directly over to his table and jump his bones — potentially scarring the entire student body and getting herself expelled — Hermione decided it was best to keep her distance for the time being. Then there was the fact that he hadn't approached her, either. A small part of her had doubts and tossed around the possibility that he regretted it. However, the desperation she felt from him and the way he refused to let her go said otherwise.
"I think, if anything, you should lock yourselves in a room and see what happens. I bet you wouldn't last ten seconds before he has his wicked way with you," Ginny paused. Then, she side eyed her, grinning. "Better yet, I bet he loves it when a girl takes control."
"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed, unable to hide her mortified expression beneath her ruddy cheeks.
"Shh, not so loud. Someone might hear you," Ginny winked, nodding to the near distance. A few tables shy of the library's entrance sat Malfoy at one end, along with Blaise and Theo to either side of him. The latter were working on an assignment together while the former was reading, his head propped by an arm, seemingly unaware of anything else around him. While his head was tilted downwards, Hermione couldn't help but notice his eyes weren't quite focused on the pages in front of him. If anything, his mind seemed far away.
"Hello boys."
The curly haired witch watched in horror as Ginny left her side and marched right up to their table using up all of the confidence she lacked. As she immersed herself into a conversation with Blaise and Theo with ease, she knew there was no way for her to leave without them noticing. Or have Ginny draw her in. Still, Malfoy didn't take his eyes away from his book that he was 'reading.'
Cursing under her breath, Hermione patted down her hair and robes and let her legs carry her over to the group where Blaise was the first to spot her.
"Afternoon, Princess," he grinned up at her as he leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Hope we're not taking up your favorite table."
They were. Not that it mattered.
"No, not at all," she answered while Theo tossed her a casual smile.
"Hey, thanks for your help on that herbology assignment. Think I could've taught the class myself this morning."
"If they were second years, maybe," Blaise said, smirking.
"Like you could even teach second years," Theo threw back.
"I've managed to teach you a few things, haven't I?" Blaise snickered. When a book came flying toward him out of nowhere, he caught it just seconds before it made contact with his face. Though at the cost of losing his balance, resulting in him tilting backwards and toppling to the floor with a yelp.
"Nice catch," Draco quipped dryly, eyes still fixated on the book in his hand. "Might I suggest sticking the landing next time."
Ginny laughed from the side, stepping up to help Blaise off the ground. Then she turned to Theo. "You must have a death wish throwing books around in front of this one."
"Nah, I'm on her good side now. Isn't that right, Granger?" Theo questioned smugly, his smile fading gradually when she didn't respond.
"Hermione?" Ginny implored, noticing the brunette's mind was worlds away.
Taking a chance, she reached out, persistently yanking on Draco's arm until he pulled it back with a scowl. She nodded over to Hermione who had taken a particular interest at a random place in the middle of the table. Rolling his eyes, he cleared his throat.
"Did you hear McGonagall say all N.E.W.T.s have been canceled this year?"
"She what?" she nearly shrieked in horror, earning laughs from everyone around the table.
"Look at that," he remarked, provoking her. "Good as new."
"Hilarious," she muttered, crossing her arms.
His mouth twitched into a pleased smirk.
"Did you need something, Granger?" he prompted neutrally.
"I think we need to make adjustments to our potion."
Her eyes widened as the words hurled out of her mouth before she could stop them. How was she supposed to get out of this? Especially when she hadn't seen their potion since before the holidays.
The blond wizard narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
"Our potion is in its final stages of brewing," he informed her. "What adjustments would we possibly need to make?"
Like a captivated audience, the other three shifted their heads to Hermione in unison as they awaited her response.
"Something happened overnight," she trailed slowly in suspense, bracing her arms on the table as she leaned forward. "I think it...overheated."
"You think our potion overheated?" He emphasized with raised brows. To everyone, it seemed plausible. No one would bother questioning Hermione on a school related subject. No one, except Draco, who proved to be proficient at potions even more than she, knew it was highly improbable.
"Yes," she answered firmly, standing up straight and crossing her arms. "I was thinking we should sort through the readings and do some more research. Seeing as this is a large component of our grade, I want no room for mistakes."
Draco kept her under his gaze, considering her words before he looked to the other occupants who were all awaiting his response. With a hum in the form of a chuckle, he responded. "Alright, Granger. Whatever you think is best."
She had to catch herself from being caught off guard as she didn't seem to think he would agree so quickly.
"Wonderful," she managed with an inward grimace. "I'll meet you here after dinner," she relented.
"Absolutely not." Her face fell at his abruptness. Then he continued with a scowl. "Don't think I forgot the last time we agreed to meet 'after dinner' and you decided to show up hours later."
Just when she thought he'd finally let that go.
"It's not my fault you were skipping meals," Hermione countered, rolling her eyes. "What do you suggest?"
"We leave from the Great Hall," he answered curtly.
Attentive, silver eyes swept over her face briefly as everyone else waited with bated breath.
"Fine," she settled.
Then his lips tilted upwards and she could feel her legs beginning to quiver.
"I'll see you tonight," he added lowly.
Despite having arrived with company, Hermione nodded and turned to leave before any of them could witness her rapidly developing flush. As she exited, she bit back a smile when she heard high fives and whistles from behind before Malfoy quickly silenced them.
Boys. And Ginny, apparently.
Later that evening, the pair found themselves a few corridors shy from reaching the library. It was a foreign sensation, being able to walk through the corridors without hoards of students to evade. With everyone else either finishing up dinner or heading back to the dormitories, there was no one to accidentally bump into them. No one to bother either for a favor or a study session. Just the two of them minding their own in the blissful silence of the encroaching night.
"It's a bit strange, isn't it?" Hermione asked suddenly. Draco glanced at her, silently requesting clarification. "We're within six feet of each other and I don't have to worry about someone hexing me from behind," she attempted to joke.
"I would've liked to see her try," he quipped with a humorless laugh.
Her smile faded away as quickly as it came when she spared him a quick glance. By his exterior, he appeared unchanged. A dark demeanor and reserved as usual. Even so, she could tell something snapped beneath the surface. Something unfriendly.
It was clear there was still so much she had to learn about him. So much they kept from each other. If she had to venture a guess, she would think he was being protective over her. Typically, annoyance was usually her first reaction whenever someone got this way and not for the first time, he seemed to be the exception. Only adding to the never-ending list of unanswered questions lingering in the back of her head. Questions she struggled to find anyone willing to provide the answers to. Then Blaise's words floated in her head.
There is someone who can...someone who can tell you everything.
And he was standing right beside her.
"Could I ask you something?"
"I don't recall you ever asking for permission before," he retorted.
"I wanted to ask about Astoria."
She could feel the pinpricks when his smirk fell into a deep frown.
"What about her?"
"I just...I can't help but feel as though she had other motives when she switched the punch. To go through such great lengths regardless of how achievable the goal is incredibly risky. I mean, it couldn't have all been just to get a rise out of me, right?" She implored innocently. When Malfoy didn't say anything, she glanced over to find him with a vacant expression and dread suddenly filled her veins.
"Merlin, I'm such an idiot," she exhaled, followed by a mocking laugh. "Of course you don't want to talk about her so soon after she—" she trailed off when her eyes met his and she wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
"Forget I said anything," she finished, looking thoroughly defeated. "Let's move on."
The rest of the journey was silent. As was the search for the materials they used last semester. It didn't take long to locate the journal entries and passages as they were all in the same place as when they left them months ago. Taking advantage of their solitude, they settled between the stacks, sitting across from each other and casually flipping various pages to find anything about their depleting potion. Hermione had been reading the same passage for the fifth time when his low voice disrupted the silence.
"You weren't wrong."
She looked up, staring at him. Despite sitting only a few feet away, he felt so far and distant. "Astoria, she," he exhaled, "she found out I was planning on dissolving our contract."
Hermione swallowed, letting a heavy swell of time pass.
"Malfoy, you don't have to—"
"I tried to tell you this before. That night at Slughorn's," he offered, shaking his head. "Anyway, she found out and I ended up spending the entirety of my holiday trying to break off our arrangement. Turns out it's damn near impossible when both parties give their consent."
Hermione's jaw fell.
"She didn't—" she trailed off and he said nothing. "That's why she had you drugged? To make you sign the contract?" The mere thought of it sickened her. To think someone would go to such depths against someone's will for their own selfish reasons. But what he followed up with was much worse.
"Consent requires more than a signature," he ventured slowly, meeting her gaze with intent. "It's a blood bound contract."
Hermione's mouth became dry at his words.
Once they had time to sink in, she could feel rage beginning to surface and slowly shook her head in disbelief.
"No."
"Granger."
"I can't believe this," she seethed, gradually increasing in volume.
"Granger," he repeated, this time with an undertone of warning.
"No!" She insisted wildly. "That is positively vile and unequivocally unacceptable! How could you possibly be so calm when she—mmph!" In a swift movement, he'd gotten rid of any insignificant distance between them and craned his head down while holding hers in place to capture her lips with his own.
At the feel of him, Hermione's eyes slid closed and this time she had no hesitation in kissing him back. But before she could draw him any closer, he pulled away.
Coming out of her daze, her lips formed a slight pout at the loss of him and he let out a soft chuckle.
"Mind letting me finish before you wake up the entire castle with an unnecessary lecture?" He inquired with an amused grin, all while cupping her face and grazing her cheekbones with his thumbs.
Seeing as this was the most delicate he'd ever been with her, she sighed with resignation and nodded.
Instead of returning to his previous spot, he took a seat next to her. "I had no injuries when I woke up the next morning. And yes, I know she could have healed them," he cut her off when she opened her mouth. "I found out during the interrogation she had my blood in her possession from when I was in the hospital."
Hermione blinked, recalling Astoria's shift in behavior the second she was out of Malfoy's sight.
"I..." she began hollowly, "—I don't know if that's better or worse."
"To be fair, I did lose a lot of blood that day. And it's not like I would have wanted it back in my body," he noted dryly.
"Are you defending her?" she asked, appalled.
"No, I'm not—"
"Really? Because it sounds an awful lot like you're defending her."
"All I'm saying is it could have been worse."
"So what? She didn't take your blood by force, so it's okay for her to agree and force a marriage on you?"
"She wasn't forcing the marriage on me, it was my idea—"
"Which quite frankly, I still don't understand."
"It was the best option at the time," he snapped harshly, sounding a bit like the ill-tempered boy she'd grown up with. "I thought I needed her to help redeem my family name."
"What about her?" She interjected fluidly.
Draco stared at her.
"What?"
"Last I checked, a marriage affects two people. Why did she need you?" she clarified, her calmness contrasting with the intensity of her heartbeat.
He retracted, the tension dissipating from his posture. Just when Hermione was almost certain he wasn't going to answer, he spoke.
"Astoria has a blood curse," he paused, contemplating. "They say it's incurable. Limited to her bloodline and extremely rare, but she has it. She'll turn frail in early adulthood and judging from past ancestors who shared the same fate, they don't anticipate her to make it past the age of fifty."
"Then why risk having children?" Hermione asked, recalling her urgency at starting their life and having kids. "If she's frail, wouldn't that make things worse?"
"Sustaining the bloodline with healthy descendants is a set ideal amongst most Pureblood families. It's one of the things we're taught the moment we are of childbearing age," he supplied dully. "Her hope was that with me, the chances of her descendants having it would be nonexistent. The curse would end with her."
Hermione was stunned. All things considered, it was a selfless wish to see to fruition. Yet, this did not sound like something that could come from the same person who aimlessly called her a wench not a week ago.
"Did you know about this when you agreed?"
His lips twitched.
"I'm sure you've heard about her sister, Daphne." The way his tone shifted as he said her name made her gut lurch. There was a familiarity, a gentleness she hadn't heard from him before.
"I hope this isn't where I start learning about your long list of exes," Hermione prompted, half joking.
He snickered.
"Didn't know someone like you partook in gossip."
"Only when I find it interesting," she answered offhandedly. Only realizing her mistake when he flashed a devious grin.
"Find me interesting, Granger?" Her name on his tongue ended in a slow purr and she swallowed, unsure of how to get herself out of the deep hole she'd put herself in.
"We were close up until our sixth year," he provided, with a sense of longing and regret. "When she'd made it clear she didn't want anything to do with the Dark Lord. Not like the rest of them were going to be."
She noticed he hadn't included himself, as he was already deeply involved at the time. Nodding in understanding, Hermione took the liberty to transition back into the previous topic.
"Astoria wasn't just expelled, then?"
"No, they had a minor hearing as she's still underage. She's been relocated to another school in France and is under strict orders to stay far away from me."
"Good," she decided. "That's probably for the best," she muttered, her voice laced with subtle anger.
Draco quirked his lips as he watched her from a distance, humming in agreement.
"Find anything?" He gestured to the forgotten open book in her lap.
"Nothing yet," Hermione said, partly in truth. How could she focus on finding anything else when he was such a distraction?
"You know," and there it was again. That sensual drawl that did strange things to her mind and body. "Think I know a place where we might have better luck."
"I'm a little disappointed that you didn't think about this sooner."
"Quite the contrary Granger, I've thought about this for quite some time," he admitted, watching her intently from behind as she looked through the stacks.
With a scoff, she paused her search. "Then why didn't you say anything earlier?"
"You could say I was waiting for the right moment."
At his implication, she turned her head, resulting in a blush at his heated gaze. "Right. Well we should get to searching before Filch does his rounds," she suggested meekly.
"No need," he answered almost immediately. When she eyed him a questioning look, he nodded directly above her head. "Up there."
Hermione followed his gaze, eyes falling on the book he was referring to. Indeed it was conveniently placed directly above where they stood. Except it was several shelves up, far beyond her reach.
She tossed him a look of disbelief. "You know I can't reach that. Can't you grab it?"
He raised a brow at her.
"I could. Or..." he drawled with a teasing lift.
"Or wha—hey!" She yelped when he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her into the air, settling her on his shoulder with his large hands on a hip and thigh to steady her. Once she got past regretting the decision to wear a skirt today, she quickly found her balance and snatched the book up. Though it wasn't long before others caught her eye.
"Oh my," she exclaimed, eager eyes taking in all of the new titles she'd never seen this closely before. "This is incredible," she muttered under her breath.
"What are you doing?"
"Still looking. Give me a minute," she responded distractedly, sorting through the seemingly endless options.
"I can see the bloody book in your hand—"
"And there's a whole world of books I'd been searching for years up here!" she proclaimed with glee, grabbing and adding them to the rapidly growing stack in her arms.
"Well hurry up. You're not exactly getting any lighter—"
"Excuse me?! This was your brilliant idea so don't you start cracking jokes about my weight."
Despite her protests, he removed her from his shoulder. Once her feet touched the floor, she huffed in displeasure, much to his amusement.
Ignoring his stare, Hermione began to toss the books into her bag with the expansion charm.
"Your weight was fine before you decided to add those," he gestured stiffly to the tower of books that surpassed him in height, all while straightening out his askew clothing.
Before she stored away the last book, Hermione turned abruptly, mouth wide open in preparation to slew a fresh round of comebacks. Only to be at a loss for words and feeling a heat arise, fully knowing it wasn't from embarrassment.
No, it was because his shirt had come untucked from lifting her and it allowed her to catch a glimpse of pale skin she'd never seen before. She accepted that he was fit, but she never knew how deceivingly strong he was until now. As she discovered a few days ago, Quidditch toned him in many ways she could feel even with the barriers between them. Though she couldn't help but wonder what he felt like — what he looked like — without them.
Quickly, she turned back around. Not without hearing him chuckle low in his chest, a sinful sound that made her blood run hot.
"You're lucky Blaise and Theo know next to nothing about this potion. Subtlety is not one of your stronger suits," he noted.
Her jaw slacked.
"Excuse me?"
"Did you honestly expect me to believe our potion overheated?" He taunted, coming behind her and placing the final book in her bag. "Especially when I can just as easily check on it prior to coming here?"
Of course he knew she lied.
"Then why did you agree to come in the first place?"
"I assumed it was all a ploy to get us alone," he arched a pale brow. "Was I wrong in assuming that?"
"No. But you could have said something sooner," she whispered in fragile tones, refusing to face him.
"I was trying to give you space," he answered earnestly. "In any case, I thought I'd made my stance clear."
Which meant this whole time, he'd been waiting for her.
Waiting for her to make her move.
She had spent this entire week putting as much space between them as possible and now the entire prospect seemed so silly. Now that she had him right in front of her, she never wanted to be rid of him. Perhaps she'd spent it to delay the inevitable collision. It was only a matter of time before the dwindling strand of her hesitation which kept them apart finally broke—
"Come on now, where's that Gryffindor courage of yours?" he goaded, testing her. "Or was that fiery lioness I saw earlier actually a cover for a Hufflepu—OOF."
Then, the thread finally snapped.
He hadn't anticipated her grabbing him by his tie and yanking, effectively stunning him long enough to push him back into a bookshelf with a familiar fire in her eyes. He watched as she pulled out her wand with her free hand and raised it above them, letting the invisible canopy of a disillusionment charm and a silencing ward envelope them.
"Ah, there she is," he purred in a crisp tone.
When their lips met in a haste, everything she managed to suppress throughout the week came rushing to the surface, pouring out of her wave after wave. Must like the last time, Hermione found herself unable to think properly. He slid his tongue along the bottom swell of her lip and she shuddered, drawing him closer. Her hands dropped to his hips, her fingers digging into the lip of his trousers as his arms slithered around her waist to pull her snugly against him. Then, he flipped them and she was suddenly sandwiched between his hard body and the stacks. Both alike in their unrelenting. A gasp left her throat as he left her lips to trail kisses along her jawline leading to her neck.
The nerve endings kept firing, yet she could feel a sort of hesitance returning. This was escalating rather quickly and there were things that needed to be said before it progressed too far. The need to address this feeling that kept occurring outcompeted her primal urge, and it wasn't long when she felt Draco stilled altogether.
"Tell that brain of yours to keep quiet," he grumbled against her neck.
"Sorry, I just," she began with heavy breaths. "It's just that this—this," she emphasized, gesturing between the two of them, "doesn't make any sense."
Draco let out a heavy sigh.
"No, I suppose it doesn't," he agreed dryly. She felt him pull away to lean back against the bookstacks, maintaining his hold on her so that she moved with him. "Let's hear it, then."
"You just got out of a relationship—"
"Invalid point; it was hardly a relationship. Next?"
"We've despised each other for most of our time knowing each other."
"That's…historically accurate."
"Our friends can't stand each other."
"Correction: your friends can't stand me—ow."
"We argue all of the time. Even now, we insult each other at the slightest irritation and our backgrounds are completely incompatible—"
"That's literally every contemporary romance novel that's ever been sold," he snipped while rubbing his arm. "It's hardly an original concept—"
"Be serious about this, Malfoy," she insisted, pushing him back and rendering him silent as he watched her nervously pace back and forth. "I don't understand how you can even bear the thought of me touching you," she rubbed her temples in agitation, "especially after you've spent years telling me that I'm beneath your contempt."
"Ah, and in that time, you've always made it clear that you think that I'm a selfish, conceited, spoiled, arrogant, inbred git among society," he retaliated like he was listing off what he had for breakfast that morning. All while leisurely leaning back against the shelf with his arms crossed, watching her.
"I don't really think that anymore. Well, not entirely," she reconsidered. "I mean, you are spoiled. Considerably conceited and arrogant, and still a git at times." At the sight of his frown, she continued, "but I've found that your qualities extend beyond as such. Qualities which pain me to say that I've enjoyed getting to know."
He raised his eyebrows in anticipation. "Go on."
Deciding to test the boundaries, she took a step towards him.
"I think you're remarkably clever. Not just in classes and lectures but there's a sharpness to you that simply can't be learned." She could see him visibly swallow as she took another step. "I think deep down, there's a compassionate side to you that you've had to cover up with insults and mockery, and more recently, occlumency, amongst our peers." Standing before him, she found attentive silver orbs fixed on her. Unwavering. "I think the war shaped you to the point where those negative qualities no longer overshadow your true character and," she paused, swallowing, "and while I find it immensely attractive, it terrifies me."
"Because it's me?" He asked with a twinge of bitterness.
She felt her heart drop at the display of vulnerability, saddened that he would think so lowly of himself. Also knowing she played a significant part in that from having done so in the past. Their shared past. And now looking at the person in front of her, she could see endless possibilities within their present. Their future.
"That's only part of it," she admitted. "But also, I've never felt anything like this before."
"What, and you think I have?" Draco prompted, scoffing. "You think I'm used to being driven out of my mind by the mere thought of you?" Eventually, his eyes softened though his steely exterior remained. "This doesn't have to be complicated, Granger. We can keep it simple. Let things happen, as they say."
Hermione's frown deepened.
While she did like the idea of keeping it simple, she was never a fan of having a casual arrangement. For the thought of him sleeping with another woman made her want to lose her lunch and dinner all over again.
"Is that what you think?" His harsh words yanked her from her internal thoughts. "That I only want you for a shag?"
"Don't tell me you're a legilimens, too," she nearly whined.
"You're practically handing me your thoughts on a silver platter, now answer the question."
"I've only ever heard the rumours," she admitted. Malfoy retracted, appearing hesitant.
"And you believe them?"
"I don't know what to believe, seeing as we've never had this sort of conversation before," Hermione nearly shouted in hysterics. "Am I supposed to automatically assume you want the same thing as me when all I've heard are your fling with Pansy and stories of you hooking up with random witches in broom cupboards? How can I believe that you want something more than just—"
"Two," he said firmly.
She faltered. "What?"
"I've only ever been with two people," Draco insisted, momentarily shocking her into silence. "The long list doesn't exist and the broom cupboard thing, neither are true," he sniffed, like he wanted to do anything but rehash his sexual history.
"And Pansy?"
"Why do women always want to do this," he muttered to himself. "If you want to know that I fucked her, then yes, I have," he said bluntly. "Shall I disclose the details as to why she went from being obsessed with me to refusing to acknowledge my existence? You should know that you probably won't like the answer."
She wasn't surprised or discouraged by his response. Instead, she shrugged indifferently.
"I just like to know certain things about a person if I plan to get involved with them." This time, it was his turn to be stunned into silence. "This will need to stay between us." She could see how tense his entire body became when her words sank in. And she knew exactly where his mind went when he showed the slightest twinge of bit of repentance.
"Granger—" he faltered when she stepped up to him, placing herself within arm's reach.
"I'm not ashamed of your past, Malfoy. Or you, for that matter, but we need more time. It won't be a good look on you if word about us gets out so soon after your voided contract."
"Fair point," he muttered. "Though I am curious what happens when Potter eventually finds out about his precious Golden Girl sneaking around with a former Death Eater. Can you imagine the look on Weasley's face?"
"As a wise friend once told me, I don't see how it's any of their business," she retorted in a way that would make George proud. "I'll tell Ginny to keep it quiet." Then, she pondered. "On second thought, if she keeps asking me personal questions in a public setting, I just might obliviate her myself," Hermione added.
The corner of his mouth curved upwards and he brought his hands to her hips, tugging her close.
"My, my. Think I might be a terrible influence on you, Granger."
"Almost certainly," she confirmed with a hint of a smile. "And we can't say anything to Blaise or Theo."
"That won't be an issue. They're still under the impression we're 'waiting for the explosion to happen' so to speak," he supplied in a sarcastic drawl like he couldn't believe he was friends with them.
"And you're okay with doing this? For me?"
"It's not exclusively beneficial," he hinted, the corner of his lips tilting upwards. "As I'm sure you'll come to realize, I've never been very good with sharing." His words became clear when he tightened his grip on her. She was cooking up a deal with a snake who was in actuality a dragon. Creatures who were notorious for being overly protective over what was theirs.
"What about the gala?"
"What about it? You're coming, aren't you?"
"I'd love to, but reporters will be all over the place, including Skeeter. Though I could always keep a jar handy just in case." He arched a brow and she added, "a story for another time."
"We don't necessarily have to attend together," he assured.
That was exactly what she was afraid of. Jealousy was not a quality she prided in having but if how she reacted with Astoria was any indication, she was not going to enjoy watching another woman by his side.
"I don't know," she trailed off, hugging her arms.
"Weasley is coming, isn't she? You'll have company."
When that didn't appear to provide her any comfort, he continued. "I only have to show face to the socialites and members of the Ministry for a little while. We can still be seen socializing together. We'll do our part in this whole wizarding world unity thing," he said, carelessly waving a hand while stepping into her personal bubble. "You can always come straight back here if you're uncomfortable."
She cast him a questioning glance. "What about you?"
"My mother wanted me to stay with her that weekend," he supplied regretfully. "I told her I didn't anticipate having any plans on Valentine's Day."
Somehow she completely missed that the gala fell on Valentine's Day weekend.
"Well, you have to at least come for the elves," he goaded in a way that was reminiscent of his boyish days. "They'll be sorely disappointed if you don't."
"I never thought I'd see the day you of all people would be using elves against me. Not like this, anyway," she said with a disbelieving scoff.
He let out a low hum.
"I suppose I could have donated to Flourish and Blotts, instead."
Her heart froze.
"Donated?"
"Yes," he drew slowly. "This is a 'charity gala', Granger. Do keep up."
"You donated to my organization?" she inquired calmly despite her heart thudding rapidly. "But I-I don't even have a way to accept money."
"Ah yes, that did complicate things. It took a bit of scrambling on Gringotts' part but you'll find that there is an account under your name. They've assured that nothing will happen to the money unless you decide to do something with it," he explained plainly while she gaped at him. Like he had no idea of the mental existential crisis he'd caused her.
At her lack of a response, he frowned. But when she jumped up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly as she met his lips, he quickly reciprocated. Pressing one kiss after another, rapidly escalating into an encounter far too inappropriate for a library.
"Good talk, and just so we're clear," he said roughly against her lips, suddenly pressing his body into hers. Firmly. To the point where she could feel the sheer rigidness of him. "This is how I feel when you touch me."
When she gasped, breaking away from his lips, his jaw clenched and his gaze darkened. From the low rumble of his voice to the stiffness she could now feel against her lower belly. Then there was the blatant desire in his eyes that nearly turned them black.
"I'm not entirely convinced," she began, testing the waters by moving her hips forwards and up to create friction. When he bit out a low groan, she inwardly declared her own success. "Think you could provide a demonstration?"
A slow, sly grin grew. He kissed her once more and swiftly wrapping her legs around his waist. With her skirt, the firmness of him pressed just outside of her rapidly dampening knickers.
Feeling something primal overtake her, she migrated to his chiseled jawline, relishing in the shiver she coerced from him. In a thrice, she unfastened the clasp of his robes and pushed them off his shoulders until they fell into a heap on the floor.
As she ran her hands over his Oxford, she decided it was too obstructing for her liking. So she went for his tie next.
With a tug, the silk article fell limply to the ground and she went for his buttons, managing to open the first two before a larger hand came up to stop her progress.
"Wait."
She felt her stomach drop.
"What's the matter?" Had she made the wrong assumption? Then, she retracted her hand like she'd been touching lava. What if he didn't want her in the way she originally thought? Or worse...what if she pushed him too far…?
"I-is this too much? I-I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," she rambled, missing the way he was smiling at her. And the fact that he was still pressing her into the bookcase.
He chuckled lightly, gently shifting forward, reminding her of his evident desire for her.
"Oh," she blinked, puzzled and slightly dizzied. "Then why—?"
He set her down, further confusing her. "I would love nothing more than to take you in the middle of a library. But the first time we do this, we're doing it properly."
His words were nothing more than a whisper as he grazed the skin of her neck. She tilted her head, giving him more access.
"What does 'properly' entail?"
"I want to take you on a proper date."
She exhaled sharply, her eyelids fluttered closed, leaning into him when he found her pulse point.
"Then afterwards, I want you in a bed." Kiss. "Completely bare." Kiss. "I want to take my time," kiss, "I want to feel your body give out under me as you let me have my way with you." Lick. "Until you're incapable of saying anything but my name." She gripped onto his shoulders with the mental imagery as he reached up to cup a breast, feeling delirious. There was no way Malfoy of all people was speaking such sinful things to her and making her legs wobble. This couldn't be real. "Is that something you'd like?" he added.
"Yes," she sighed, feeling the surroundings melt away, only to be replaced by his very real, and extremely addictive, touch. He moved up to capture her lips in a searing kiss, thumbing over the peak of her nipple through layers of fabric until she let out a whimper.
"That sound," he growled against her lips, "is going to be my undoing."
She swallowed as he slid his hand under her jumper, registering in the back of her head he'd asked if this was okay and managing a feeble nod.
"I'll have you know, Malfoy," she said raggedly, her breaths becoming sparse as he reached behind her to find the clasp of her bra, swiftly unfastening it. "I don't appreciate mixed signals."
"I said I wouldn't fuck you in here yet." She gasped when his hand slid up her loosened bra and came in contact with a bare breast. "I didn't say anything about other things." Her head tilted back and he met crinkled skin.
A mewl escaped when he tweaked her nipple, "I like other things—"
He huffed a laugh.
This was insane. Absolute insanity.
And she loved every bit of it.
Not willing to be outmatched, Hermione's hands fell to his belt, working in rapid movements to open it.
"Fuck," he exhaled at her desperation. Before he could say more, she'd regretfully clapped a hand over his mouth, hearing voices; they both froze, their chests heaving.
"—come along Mrs. Norris. We'll do one final check in the library before bed, eh?" came the voice of Filch a few aisles down.
"Relax," Draco whispered, moving her hand away. "The squib never comes to the Restricted Section."
"—I know, dearest, I know. But Old McGonagall wants us to check the blasted Restricted Section. Even when I've told her no one ever uses it!"
Hermione glared at him.
"Shit, we need to leave now," he gritted out quickly, refastening his belt while Hermione reached both hands behind her to re-clasp her bra.
Once they gathered themselves and their belongings, Draco grabbed her hand as the pair quietly maneuvered their way through the library in the dark; for it was a maze they both had memorized over the years. They waited with bated breath for Filch to head into a corner before darting by with light treads, like wraiths dancing together in the dead of night. It was no different when they exited; quiet and cautious when they passed through the entrance and stepped into the corridor.
Fully anxious and alert, the pair waited until the doors shut before making a beeline for a secluded alcove a few corridors away. Once they were hidden from sight, they let out sighs of relief and slumped against the wall.
"We are not doing that again," Hermione said in between harsh breaths.
Draco, who was bent at the waist while catching his breath, simply stared at her before he released a laugh. Followed by another.
It didn't take long before she joined in, mostly out of disbelief. She had just fooled around with her childhood nemesis in the Restricted Section and narrowly avoided being caught. What's more, she actually enjoyed herself.
When reality sank in and they finally came to terms with where they were, they quickly separated. Hermione's eyes fell and Draco cleared his throat. "We should get back before someone sees us," he said, expressionless.
Releasing a shaky breath, Hermione nodded in agreement.
He glanced around for anyone walking by. Once the coast was clear, he stepped into the dimly lit corridor and within seconds, he vanished into the night.
Hermione let a few minutes pass before doing the same. When she made it back to the common room, she tiptoed her way inside, as to not disturb any of the sleeping occupants. The second she drew her curtains, she made to unpack her newly acquired books from her bag. Though the one that caught her attention was none of the ones she obtained tonight. It was a plain journal she'd written in over the holidays which had no reason to be emitting a dim glow.
Except it was the one she tested the quill he'd given her in.
Curious, she opened it. Her eyes glowing as she read the new passage;
'Thought you'd figure out what the quill actually did by now. I must be giving you too much credit.'
She hesitated, wondering if she should take a more...flirtatious approach. Reaching in her bedside drawer for the quill, she wrote back, 'Maybe I enjoy testing your patience. Hope it was worth the wait.'
His reply was almost immediate.
'It was. Every minute.'
Hermione bit back a smile.
'We should get some rest. See you in the morning?'
Then the page glowed one final time that night.
'Of course. Sleep well, Granger.'
Before following suit, she inscribed on the bottom right corner of the cover with a satisfied grin.
Ferret Relations 101