Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13492935.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Hermione_Granger/Draco_Malfoy, Hermione_Granger_&_Draco_Malfoy
  Character:
      Draco_Malfoy, Draco, Hermione_Granger, Hermione
  Additional Tags:
      Romance, Affairs, Explicit_Sexual_Content, mature_-_Freeform, Mature
      Audience, Harry_Potter_-_Freeform, Draco_and_Hermione_-_Freeform,
      dramione_-_Freeform, Dramione_Love, Love, Drama, Dramatic
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-01-27 Completed: 2018-01-29 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 5523
****** An Illicit Affair ******
by movember
Summary
     "You're thinking about what it would be like to be properly kissed,"
     Draco said, inching closer toward Hermione. "And I know for a fact
     that it won't be given to you by Weasley. But me, on the other
     hand...Let's just say I'm experienced. I could show you.." A story in
     which Draco and Hermione start off as enemies and soon discover just
     what they've been missing out on.
Notes
     All credit goes to J.K. Rowling - I do not own Harry Potter or the
     Wizarding World. I'm just having fun with Draco and Hermione for a
     bit.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter 1
Where's my Won-Won?!" Lavender Brown shrieked as she paced throughout the
Gryffindor common room. Her face was creased with worry, as her eyebrows were
furrowed and her cheeks tinted with a frustrated pink. "Won-Won?" She called
out again, a bit louder this time.
Hermione, sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, rolled her eyes as
Lavender continued to shout for her beloved "Won-Won."
Won't you just shut up? Hermione thought to herself, as Lavender paced in front
of her, causing her to lose a bit of the light from the fire that was casting a
glow so she could study for her lessons the next day. Hermione scowled,
becoming even more annoyed.
"Won-Won!" Lavender shouted once more.
"For the love of God, Lavender, some people actually have to study and have
more on their minds than precious Won-Won!" Hermione blurted, her annoyance
pushed over the top.
Lavender scoffed at Hermione, giving her the nastiest sneer she can muster.
Jealous bitch, Lavender thought. She just wants what she can't have.
Hermione wanted what she couldn't have. It had been complete and utter agony,
watching Ron snog Lavender on every inch of the Gryffindor common room, every
inch of Hogsmeade, every inch of the goddamn castle. Whenever she thought she
could finally get a moment alone to study or to process her growing feelings
toward Ron, she instantly heard the sound of lips lapping against each other,
and she knew that once again, Ron and Lavender doing their daily mating calls.
Lavender continued to call for Ron, and finally, Ron stepped out of the boy's
dormitory. His eyes were sleepy, as he most likely awoke from a nap, Hermione
gathered. His hair was a bit disheveled. If she weren't so annoyed with both
Ron and Lavender, Hermione would've actually found it adorable how out of place
he looked.
"Won-Won!" Lavender yelled, throwing her arms around Ron's neck and furiously
kissing his cheeks, lips, forehead...whatever she could manage to plant her
lips upon.
"Lav," he half whispered, half moaned. Hermione instantly felt as if she was
watching a pornography being filmed.
"Ugh," she groaned. "Please, take it to the bedroom. Some of us are actually
trying to study."
"Enough!" Lavender returned. "I've had enough of your bitching for today.
You're just jealous that Won-Won chose me over you."
Hermione scoffed, as Lavender did to her just a few moments prior. "Please.
Stop making up silly scenarios in your head. I have more important things to
worry about than you and your precious Won-Won. Now, if you'll excuse me, I
have studying to do."
Hermione stood abruptly, taking her books and backpack with her, before walking
to exit the dormitory.
"Hermione," Ron called out. His eyes were undeniably sadder than when he first
emerged from the boy's dormitory, as if seeing her hurt was dampening his mood.
Hermione raised her lips in a half-hearted smile before exiting the room,
leaving Ron and Lavender to snog until their hearts were content.
If only Harry were here, Hermione thought as she raced down the hall, searching
for a place where she can find peace. For months, he'd been spending more and
more time with Dumbledore, preparing for the war that was brewing against
Voldemort. Voldemort was becoming stronger each and every day, Harry told her,
and Dumbledore wanted Harry to obtain as much knowledge as he could before the
war officially struck. Hermione understood, but she just wished that she had
her friend during the rough time.
She couldn't remember when she began noticing her feelings toward Ron change.
Certainly not more than a year ago, but certainly a week before. It was as if
one day, she woke up and Ron was all she could think about. She concealed it
well, she thought, as Ron obviously was oblivious to the fact that she was in
love with him.
No, that's not quite right, Hermione thought. She couldn't be in love with him.
Or maybe she could. She never let her mind travel to those thoughts, as they
were useless. Ron was too busy snogging Lavender to notice Hermione in a
different light. All Hermione would ever be to Ron was a friend, a sister even.
The brightest witch of her age. Never anything more.
Tears began forming in Hermione's eyes. She could feel the burn become stronger
and stronger as her steps became faster and faster. She rushed to a hidden
corridor, where Dumbledore's Army had practiced their fighting lessons just a
year ago.
I need a room where I can become lost among items that'll allow me to cry my
eyes out.
Instantly, the Room of Requirement formed, and she barged in, allowing her
tears to finally flow from her eyes. She raced until she lost her footing,
collapsing on the cold, hard floor. She leaned back against a stack of junk
piled high, not bothering to look at what exactly was holding her. She let her
head fall into her lap as the sobs erupted from her.
She didn't understand what was happening to her. She'd never let her feelings
get in the way of anything - certainly not academics. But she could barely
focus due to Ron. She could barely eat, barely breathe, barely sleep. Something
had to give.
Suddenly, Hermione heard footsteps from around the corner. Her sobbing
immediately ceased, even though the tears still flowed from her stinging eyes.
Draco Malfoy, the one person she loathed most besides Voldemort himself,
rounded the corner.
When Draco noticed it was the Gryffindor Mudblood on the floor, making those
awful wailing sounds, he rolled his eyes as a sneer formed on his lips.
"Geez, Granger, think you could calm it down? Some of us aren't here to listen
to your pathetic whining."
Hermione coughed as another sob came. Why did he have to be so cruel? What
inside of him made him think that it was okay to constantly bully people
around?
"Wh-What are you doing here?" She stammered, wiping the tears away from her
puffy eyes.
"That's none of your concern, you filthy little Mudblood!" Draco spat. Of
course, she would come in her when he was trying to attend to his duties for
the Dark Lord. He was attempting to make that damn Vanishing Cabinet work, as
no other wizard had managed to do, and he could feel that he would be the
first. However, the stupid Mudblood would be the one to interrupt him. If she
found out what he was doing, she'd no doubt run Potter and tell him what she
saw.
"I-Sor-" Hermione caught herself before apologizing. She had no reason to
apologize to Malfoy, of all people. He was the one to throw malicious words to
her. If anyone should apologize, it should be him.
"You can leave now, Granger," Draco said, hoping she'd take the hint and leave.
Unfortunately, tears continued to stream down her pathetic, puffy face.
Draco rolled his eyes as she continued to weep. "Why are you so upset, Granger?
Geez, you act as if the world is ending."
For Hermione, her world was ending. If Voldemort won this war, her life would
be over. Dark magic would be prevalent, Dumbledore would no longer be in
control, and all Muggle-borns would be killed. Pure-bloods would run the entire
wizarding world. Hermione found it ironic, considering the most powerful dark
wizard who wanted purebloods to run the wizarding world, was a half-blood
himself.
"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione whispered. "You'd never understand."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Is it that stupid Weaselby that you're so in love
with?"
Hermione's eyes snapped up, surprised that Draco had responded with that. "How-
How did you-"
Draco scoffed. "Please," he said. "It's obvious to everyone. Everyone except
for him, it seems."
Hermione wiped her eyes one final time, resolving to stop crying. "What would
you know about feelings, Malfoy? You're incapable of thinking about anyone but
yourself."
A chuckle emerged from him, even though he mentally punched himself for
laughing at something the Mudblood said. As if anything she ever said could be
worthy of his laughter.
"You're right about that. For once, the Mudblood is right."
Hermione winced every time he called her that, but refused to let his menace
control her. "Aren't you dating Pansy Parkinson?"
Once again, Draco scoffed, hiding the chuckle that wanted to escape from him.
Stupid Mudblood.
"You and your Gryffindor values. Just because I'm seen with someone, doesn't
mean we're dating."
Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion. "I don't understand."
"We're fuck buddies, Granger."
Hermione shook her head, as if she hadn't heard him correctly.
"Oh come on, Granger. Don't be so dense. Surely you know what a fuck buddy is."
Hermione settled her back against.. what? She turned around slowly to distract
herself from Malfoy's statement momentarily to see that she was leaning against
an old desk. When she turned back around to face him, Malfoy was staring at her
intently, a dark look piercing in his grey eyes.
"Of course I do," she whispered.
"Tell me, Granger, have you ever had a fuck buddy?"
Hermione's eyes widened in shock. Her hand flew to her mouth, as if she
couldn't believe that he had the audacity to ask her such a question. A
personal question.
"I believe that's none of your business, Malfoy!"
He stepped closer toward her, slowly, sensually, but surely. "Have you ever
even slept with someone, Granger?"
Of course she hadn't. Hermione imagined her first time would be with Ron, but
she knew in her heart that his first time wouldn't be with her. It had probably
already happened with Lavender.
"I-" She began before Malfoy interrupted her again.
"Have you ever even been kissed?"
"Yes," she whispered as he knelt in front of her, barely two feet away. Yes,
she had, if she counted that sloppy kiss from Viktor Krum about two years ago.
It was too wet and sloppy and filled with overbearing tongue that Hermione
didn't know what to do with. She shuddered thinking about it.
"I bet you've never been kissed properly," Draco whispered. He imagined running
his hands on her bare thighs, running his mouth down her neck toward her
breasts, kissing her like she'd never been kissed before. It would be a
conquest, he knew.
He thought about it for a few more moments before the thought that she was a
Mudblood popped into his brain. How could he have forgotten? She was a filthy,
dirty little Mudblood. Kissing her would be like kissing the dirt outside of
the Hogwarts grounds.
But strangely, the thought was amusing to him. He bet she'd orgasm from just a
simple kiss from him. He'd heard from many girls that he was an incredible
kisser, and Draco knew it to be true. He bet that Granger wouldn't be able to
deny his charm, he sexual nature.
Sure, he was currently fucking Pansy, but that didn't mean anything. As he told
Granger, she was just a fuck buddy.
"How would you know that?" Hermione finally whispered, answering Malfoy's
questioning gaze.
"Because if you had," Malfoy said, "you'd be more confident in this moment.
Right now, I can sense the nervous, yet excited energy. I'm closer to your body
than any man has been in awhile, if ever. You're thinking about what it would
be like to be properly kissed. And I know for a fact that it won't be given to
you by Weasley. He's a pathetic excuse of a man who probably couldn't fuck if
someone gave him a play by play. But me, on the other hand... Let's just say
I'm experienced. I could show you a good time."
The words flew from his mouth before he could stop himself, but he realized
they were true. It would be the biggest, yet greatest conquest in the world.
The Death Eating Slytherin that every Gryffindor loved to hate, being the first
to fuck the Granger girl, the Muggle-born, the brightest witch of her age. No
one would believe it. Bloody hell, Draco could barely believe it as the
scenarios played throughout his mind.
"Are you insane?" Hermione shot. "You're with Pansy. That would be cheating.
And besides, there's no way in hell I'd even let you come that close to me."
Draco laughed an unnervingly charismatic laugh. "But Granger, I'm already that
close to you."
Hermione gulped nervously as she realized the truth of his words. He was about
a foot away from her at that point, steadily getting closer. She should push
him away, but she couldn't make herself. She could feel his warm breath, smell
his arousing cologne. If anything, she wanted him closer.
"I could be your fuck buddy, Granger," he whispered, almost moaned.
Finally, Hermione's senses caught up to her. She pushed Draco away and stood,
straightening her school uniform. "As if! There's not a chance in hell that
I'll ever let you do that to me."
Draco closed the distance between them, and he could feel the curves of her
body against his. He felt his body tingle in response, his dick becoming
excited with anticipation.
Hermione felt the hardness of his chest pressed against her, and her breath
sped uncharacteristically.
"We'll see," he said, bringing a hand to her face, possessively grazing her
cheek. "If you change your mind, you'll let me know."
Draco pulled her closer for one instant, letting her feel how nice it would be
to have their bodies pressed together. Then, with a wink, he stepped away,
walking toward the exit of the Room of Requirement.
Hermione watched him walk away, her brain fizzling with confusion. Don't hold
your breath, Malfoy, she thought as he exited the room.
Even though there wasn't a single part of her that wanted to accept Draco's
offer, she couldn't help but think about how easily it was to forget about Ron
and Lavender during the moments that she was with Draco.
With a heavy heart and a mind full of Draco, she left the Room of Requirement
to face Ron and Lavender's snogging and to do what she did best - study, like
the brightest witch of her age would be expected to do.
***** Chapter 2 *****
As night fell, Hermione couldn't stop thinking about Malfoy's offer in the Room
of Requirement. As far as she'd always known, Malfoy couldn't stand the mere
thought of her. Did something change to make him want to...fuck her?
No, of course nothing had changed. Malfoy still hated her. She noticed the way
he sneered at her as he spoke to her. Sure, he'd been speaking of her in a
sexual nature, but that's how Malfoy had always been. He'd always been looking
for the next conquest, and for some reason Hermione couldn't quite put her
finger on, Malfoy had chosen her.
Hermione promised herself it would never happen. No matter what, Hermione would
not give in to Malfoy's request. How could she? She hated Malfoy as much as he
hated her. The feelings between them were completely mutual.
"I could be your fuck buddy, Granger." Malfoy's words rang in her mind.
"I could be your fuck buddy, Granger." Over and over again, like a broken
record.
"I could be your fuck buddy, Granger."
Hermione stood from her bed in the girls' prefect dormitory, inhaling and
exhaling deeply. She was immensely thankful that none of the other prefects
were present to witness her exasperated state. Sweat beads had formed on her
forehead and were dripping down her flushed face, and her heart was beating so
irregularly that her breath faltered.
"Get over yourself," Hermione whispered, annoyed at how affected she'd become
by Malfoy's words. Surely he wasn't still thinking about her. He probably
hadn't even been thinking about her when he'd said those things. Like normal,
Malfoy had probably been letting complete rubbish fly out of his over-
exaggerative mouth.
Sighing, Hermione made her way to the prefect bathroom in the Gryffindor dorm,
where she performed her nightly routine before bed. Even though it was still
quite early, Hermione couldn't focus on her schoolwork enough to complete a
night's worth of studying. It would be best for her if she just forced herself
to sleep.
When she'd gotten settled in her bed, Hermione tossed and turned for what
seemed like hours before finally drifting off into an unnerving sleep.
******************************
The room was black - blacker than the Dark Mark on a Death Eater's arm.
Hermione fumbled around the room, bumping into objects that had no name, only a
shape. She tried placing her hands in front of her to guide her to a point of
vision, but it was no use. The further she walked, the further into the black
vortex of a room she went.
Panic settled into her stomach as her heart began beating more and more, faster
and faster - erratic, like a small child's play on a toy drum set - something
Muggles would understand.
"Help," Hermione squeaked, realizing her voice was failing her due to fright.
"Help!"
Suddenly, she crashed into something - someone. Judging by the hardness of the
muscles in the person's chest, Hermione assumed it was a man. The man braced
her, pulled her into him, and whispered into her ear, "Easy there, Granger.
Don't want to knock yourself out."
Hermione's heart began pounding even faster. Malfoy! She thought. What is he
doing here?
"Lumos," he whispered, and a light appeared at the end of his want. Hermione
suddenly noticed that they were in the Room of Requirement, where Malfoy
suggested they be fuck buddies.
Hermione glanced toward Malfoy's face. His eyes, a light grey were beaming down
upon her. His shirt, a white dress shirt, was unbuttoned at the top, allowing
her to see his chiseled, yet lean chest. His black pants blended with the
darkness of the room. His arms were still holding her upright since her legs
had turned to jelly. His hair was sliding into his eyes, leaning lazily against
his forehead.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione eventually asked him, willing herself to
stand on her own. She released herself from his arms, though when she was freed
of him, she realized she craved his touch once more.
"The question is, Granger," he began, with a slight smirk on his pale face,
"what are you doing here?"
"I-I," Hermione stammered. "I don't know." She couldn't remember how she'd
gotten to the Room of Requirement, why she'd come there, or when. All she could
remember was the feeling of her body pressed against Malfoy's.
"Thinking dirty thoughts, are we?" Malfoy spat. However, there was an
undeniable gleam in his eyes.
Hermione felt her face flush at his words. "No!" She denied. "Of course not!"
Malfoy stepped closer toward her. "You filthy Mudblood," he whispered. "You're
a terrible liar."
Hermione ignored the offensive term that he always used to address her. "I'm
not a liar." Her eyes trailed from his eyes to the opening in his shirt.
"Then why can't you keep your eyes on mine?" He said, stepping closer and
closer. The distance that Hermione had put between them was closing, inch by
inch.
"I-" Hermione said, but before she could complete her words, Malfoy pulled her
against his body. Their faces were mere centimeters apart. Hermione could smell
peppermint on his breath as he exhaled.
"Stop talking, Granger," Malfoy commanded. His hand snaked up her body, cupping
her cheek in his palm. He crashed his lips into her hers, and his mouth moved
roughly in an unfamiliar pattern.
Hermione knew she should've broken the kiss, yet her brain, like her legs
previously, had failed her. The brightest witch of her age had abandoned the
only thing that kept her in the wizarding world and kissed the boy who would've
done anything in his pureblood power to expel her from it.
Malfoy's tongue delved into Hermione's mouth, and her to her surprise, she
relished the feeling of it, pushing hers into his, overpowering him in the
situation. She ran her hands up his stomach to his chest where the top of his
shirt was unbuttoned. She quickly maneuvered the buttons to where they each
were undone and yanked the shirt off his body, throwing it onto the floor
beside them.
Malfoy, seemingly surprised by Hermione's rather bold actions, paused, staring
in to her eyes. Hermione desperately wished to know what exactly he was
thinking when, all of the sudden, he grabbed her body and threw her up,
wrapping his arms around her lower back and bottom. Hermione wrapped her legs
around his taut middle as he carried her toward an empty wall. Malfoy crashed
her against the wall as his lips met her bare neck.
"Mmmm," Hermione moaned as one of his hands braced the wall and the other slid
up and down her side. Though the feeling tickled slightly, Malfoy's tongue on
her neck calmed the nerves tingling on her side.
Hermione tightened her legs around Malfoy's waist and draped her arms around
his neck, pulling his head deeper into her neck, silently begging for him to
keep going.
Don't stop, she begged in her mind. Please, don't stop.
Malfoy's hand left her side and slowly inched toward her breasts. Though she
was still fully clothed, his hand began caressing her breast, methodically, as
if he was set at a rhythm.
Hermione gasped at the feeling of his hand there - no man had ever touched her
breasts before. Her legs tightened even further. "Don't stop," she finally
whispered aloud. "Please."
Malfoy paused momentarily and looked her in the eyes. She saw that the usual
coldness of his icy grey eyes had softened slightly as they stared at her in
the pale light. Suddenly, he set her down on the ground, and though Hermione
was saddened that their bodies weren't as close, Malfoy took the bottom of her
shirt into his hands and raised it. He motioned for her to raise her hands, and
she happily obliged. He raised the shirt over her head and tossed it to the
side.
Hermione immediately felt self-conscious as Malfoy's eyes raked up and down her
body. She squirmed and felt tears arise in her eyes, but Malfoy's hand cupped
her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. When she did, he noticed that he was
not sneering in disgust. Rather, he was smiling - something Hermione hadn't
seen on Malfoy's face in years.
He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her lips slowly at first, then quickly
speeding his pace. Hermione pulled his naked chest to hers, relishing in the
feeling of their bare bodies close together. Malfoy reached his hands around
her back and unclasped her white bra, letting it slide down her arms and onto
the floor.
Malfoy's mouth left hers as he stared at her breasts. Hermione didn't allow
herself to look at his face too long, in case a look of utter disappointment
crossed it. As she closed her eyes to shield herself, she didn't notice as he
bent to raise her up once more, cradling her in his arms. Hermione, once again,
wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively as he leaned her against the
wall. Though she was surprised by this action, she readily welcomed his touch.
His hands slowly massaged her breasts, and Hermione moaned loudly, not afraid
of the echo that sounded in the Room of Requirement.
"Oh!" She gasped, as his fingers rubbed her nipples, slowly, swiftly, then
slowly again. She felt the tension in her belly clench as his movements
continued.
"Do you like this, Granger?" He whispered as his mouth moved onto her neck,
planting wet kisses. His mouth trailed down further as her breathing became
more and more erratic.
"Yes," she whispered in return.
"How much?" He asked. He raised his head to meet her eyes. She noticed a slight
smirk on his face.
"So much," she moaned and leaned her head against the wall she was leaning on.
Malfoy's hands stopped kneading her breasts, and Hermione found herself pouting
at the loss of contact. However, to her shock, he lowered his mouth to her left
breast, taking her nipple into his mouth.
"Ah!" She gasped as his tongue moved in circles around her nipple. She felt it
harden in his mouth as his tongue worked over it, his teeth barely scraping
against it. Malfoy's other hand moved toward her free breast and massaged it,
leaving Hermione completely breathless.
"Yes," she moaned, louder than she anticipated. "Yes, please. More."
Malfoy's mouth sucked on her nipple, pulling it out with his teeth before
removing his mouth and slowly crossing to her other breast. His mouth and hand
switched, and his movements began again, as if he were performing a dance.
Hermione felt the wetness begin pooling between her legs and her stomach clench
tighter than it ever had before. She'd never experienced this type of feeling,
and she knew it wouldn't be long until she combusted at the seams, right in
front of Malfoy. But for once, she wasn't thinking about what it meant or what
Malfoy would think. All she knew was that she wanted more, right then.
"More, please," she whispered.
Malfoy's mouth began sucking harder and harder on her breast, and his hand slid
down her stomach toward the lower half of her body. Malfoy moved his mouth back
to her other breast as his hand slid toward her pants. Hermione was frightened
that he'd put his hands in her pants - afraid of what he'd do. She'd never let
another man touch her there - never let another man feel her wetness. Yet she
wanted him to. She wanted him to feel every part of her.
"Please," she whispered.
Malfoy paused and set her down on the ground. Hermione stood, disappointed that
his touching had stopped. Then, Malfoy pushed her against the wall, with her
still standing, and crashed his lips to hers as his hands found the button on
her pants. He undid it in one swift motion before sliding his hands inside.
"Ugh," Hermione moaned in delight as his hand found her clit and began
massaging it.
"You. Are. So. Wet." Malfoy muttered in between kisses, rubbing his hand on her
clit, making her shiver from head to toe. "Holy fuck, Granger."
Hermione rocked her hips, willing him to keep going.
Malfoy followed orders and slid a finger into her entrance. He slid his finger
in and out, pulsing and feeling deep inside of her.
"Fuck, Granger. So wet." His mouth moved toward her neck and began sucking on
her skin. He slid another finger in side of her, moving them methodically.
Hermione felt the orgasm approaching. She knew it wouldn't be long now. She
rocked her hips to his rhythm, moaning loudly.
"Please, Malfoy. Don't stop. Faster." She couldn't keep from speaking. It felt
too good.
Hermione's breath quickened, and she felt the muscles clench so tightly in her
stomach that she felt like her belly would rip.
"Mmm," she whimpered, knowing that she was about to lose control.
"Come for me," Malfoy said, as he continued to move his fingers in and out of
her and as his thumb circled her clit.
At his words, Hermione felt herself spiraling into her orgasm, deeper and
deeper into the pleasure as Malfoy continued to move his hand in a particular
rhythm.
"Draco!" She screamed, when suddenly, everything came to a halt. She jolted,
eyes springing open. She glanced around her, wondering where he'd went. She
noticed then that she wasn't in the Room of Requirement. Her nightshirt was
still on, and though she was a sweaty mess and breathing as if she'd just ran a
mile, Malfoy was nowhere in sight.
It was a dream, Hermione told herself over and over. It was a dream.
She immediately sprung from her bed and put on her slippers, running toward the
girls' bathroom. Once inside, she sunk to the chilly tile floor, pressing her
face against it. Sweat beaded her face, neck, and back as she tried to calm
herself down.
It was a dream, Hermione realized. It had only been a dream.
But she knew it wasn't just a dream. It had been more than a dream. It was
something that felt like a reality. She'd called out his name in her sleep.
She'd had an orgasm in her sleep. Her body still tingled from his imaginary
touch, and she realized that she craved it. She wanted to feel what it would
really be like to feel his hands, his mouth, his tongue on her body.
She then thought of Ron, and how he'd probably been doing to Lavender what
Malfoy had done to her in the dream. Her jealousy instantly flamed. She'd
always pictured that they'd be each other's firsts, and now she knew that that
dream had been shattered. Ron didn't view her as she viewed him. To Ron,
Hermione would only be the brightest witch of her age. His best friend. Never
anything more.
As Hermione thought of the dream once again and how good it felt for the
imaginary Malfoy to be touching her, she knew what she had to do. She thought
of Ron once more, and knew that it was a lost cause. Her decision meant there
was no turning back, and she knew she was about to swim into dangerous waters.
But for once in her life, she didn't care. The brightest witch of her age
didn't care.
*********************************
The next morning, Hermione sat with Harry and Ginny in the Gryffindor common
room, her mind pondering the dream that she'd had last night. Harry and Ginny
were deep in conversation, and though Hermione tried to catch a word here and
there, she couldn't focus. She could only think of Malfoy.
Just as she'd reached the interesting part of her dream, Ron and Lavender
suddenly came stumbling into the common room, giggling and sneaking kisses.
Lavender's hands were groping Ron's biceps, and Ron's hands were practically
underneath Lavender's school uniform shirt.
Hermione's heart pounded at the sight of Ron, but as she watched Lavender and
Ron fondling each other, bile rose in her throat. As the tears formed in her
eyes, she noticed that Harry was glancing in her direction. She knew he was
speaking to her, but she couldn't understand what he was saying. It was as if
he were talking under water. She watched Ron and Lavender as if they were a
movie, performing their scenes so perfectly. They were synchronized in their
dance, and their moves never faltered.
Hermione rose from the couch, ignoring Harry and Ginny's calls of her name, and
ran out of the Gryffindor dormitory. Seeing Ron and Lavender together, just as
she had yesterday, only made the decision she'd made the night before more
absolute. She knew things had to change, once and for all.
****************************
At breakfast the next morning, Draco silently ate a piece of toast with a
scrambled egg, slowly and meticulously, just as his parents had taught him. He
sneered as the others around him ate sloppily.
Stupid wizards and witches, he thought. Didn't they ever have any proper
training?
Draco finished his toast as the Dark Mark on his arm began to ache ever so
slightly. It had been a few weeks since it had appeared, since he had vowed his
loyalty to the Dark Lord, and already, he felt as though he'd made a mistake.
He wanted to live his own life, yet his honor for the family name came before
anyone else. Since he'd pledged his allegiance to Voldemort, Draco silently
vowed to make not only his parents, but the Dark Lord proud of him, especially
when he made that goddamn vanishing cabinet work, something no wizard had ever
done before.
Owl post shortly arrived a few moments later, and Draco pushed thoughts of his
burning arm aside. He didn't expect anything from his parents, as they'd just
written the day before, but to his surprise, a letter was dropped beside his
plate.
It wasn't his parents handwriting, however, that had written his name on the
envelope. It was a neat, fluid print that had addressed his name, and Draco
immediately wondered who would be writing him besides his parents. He knew that
no other Death Eater would write him, as they had no reason to. No one, besides
his own mother, believed in him enough to write him encouragements.
He rolled his eyes as he opened the letter, finally settling on the fact that
it was probably a love letter from Pansy. Since he'd been fucking her, she'd
become a lovesick puppy. Draco knew that he'd have to shut down her relentless
feelings at some point, but the sex was decent enough to keep stringing her
along for the time being.
As Draco read the letter, however, he knew it wasn't from Pansy. It could only
be from one person - the person that had been on his mind ever since he'd left
the Room of Requirement the day before.
I've changed my mind. This is me letting you know.
It wasn't signed, but Draco knew exactly who it was from.
Granger.
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