Become a Fan
Having Fun With The Devil
By Shahida C. Arabi
Monday, June 16, 2003
Harry Potter Fanfiction:
Cruel Intentions Style
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and properties belong to J.K. Rowling and Warnor Bros.
Summary: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are sworn enemies, and this time things go too far. A war is set, and extreme measures are met. Everybody deserves a little sexual harrassment in this show, but have things gone too far? Who will win, and which one will be bitten by the unlikely sensation of love?
"Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here, Granger," he snarled. Sixteen year old Draco Malfoy stood there in black robes, standing against the nearby tree in his usual egotistical posture, his legs slightly apart, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets, and his eyebrows raised with a small trademark smirk on his face.
"I am estatic to see you here also, Malfoy," an oversarcastic sixteen year old Hermione Granger replied coldly. She was sitting on the grass, and unlike the cool set position Malfoy had chosen to enclose, she looked dreadfully peaceful, her robes folded neatly beside her on the ground, the lake's small waves collaging it's aura. She was wearing a small spaghetti strapped dress that was drenching in the light delicate color of baby blue, and small petticoats underneath, which revealed sights of lavander. Her hair, which was often extremely bushy and unbrushed, looked better somehow today, and it was slightly curled, although Malfoy obviously did not fail to observe the fact that it only looked curled because of it's messy tendancies of tangles.
"Ah, well you have to love me."
"I think not. Exactly what are you planning to do here? I have special premission from Professor McGonagall to be here and take notes on certain rare and rather unique mercreatures that lay upon this very lake, and I do despise the fact if I have to have you for company," she said this all very quickly and rather snappishly.
"Crabbe, Goyle and I are having a fashion show, and we were thinking this would be a great setting for the swimsuit competetion, I mean, Crabbe's crazy about showing off his bikini this lovely morning," Draco said sarcastically. Hermione gave a involuntery shiver, to his meek satisfaction.
"You can't go rummaging nearby the lake during classes, Malfoy. It's called skipping, and skipping is not allowed. I will have to report this to Professor Snape or otherwise. Now you should leave and save yourself furthur trouble," Hermione said, glaring down at a peice of parchment she was scribbling down on.
"Of course, I forgot our little wonder mudblood here is running for Head Girl next year. Good luck, of course, Professor McGonagall will surely give you the chance, since you two are both bright lovers."
Hermione bit her lip, not quite knowing what to say. Pretending not to know of his presance, she went back to looking at the water and scribbiling down furthur notes.
"Look up when I speak to you, Granger, you filthy little thing. Surely you're clever enough for a suitable comeback, are you not? No need, however. You and your family won't last long enough for your seventh year at Hogwarts. I bet the lovely death eaters are dying to meet you," he murmured joyfully.
"How dare you!" Hermione dropped her things and stood up, brushing the dirt away from her ankles, giving Draco the chance to admire the creamy flesh of her long legs.
"Oh, what're you going to do, mudblood? Not going to fight me, now are you? Don't be a bitch, you silly little girl. My family has taught me the best dark arts that even your smarts can't beat."
"Who the hell said anything about wands?" she snapped through gritted teeth. Her eyes were flashing angrily, and two patches of red were glowing on her cheeks, giving her a furious expression.
"Oh feisty, are we?"
Draco laughed, and then looked at her up and down, causing her to wince slightly as his mere observation. He was obviously getting too much of an eyeful, rather along the bosom area.
"Wouldn't want to hurt your small frail figure," he said innocently. "However...there are many other enjoyable things to do with it."
"You sick little bastard!" she screamed, and got ready to slap him. He caught it lazily, his nails digging into her skin. She shrieked, whimpering as he did not let go of the painful clutch of embrace.
He grinned, liking his overpower on her. It made him feel big, dangerous. He caught both her awaiting fists in his hands, and pressed her against him, wrapping his arms around her to prevent her from getting away.
"Poor little mudblood bitch. You should know not to mess with me. You'll never win, your just Potter's little wrench of a whore. How much for your services anyway? You can give my money to Weasel," he said, roaring with laughter.
She struggled against him, but instead fell furthur in his chest, and eventually they both fell on the grass. She was taking this chance to get off of him and gather up her things when she felt a sudden striking prick in her backside. Squealing, she let go of her things and turned around, and saw Draco had gotten up once again, and he was waving his fingernails threatningly.
Hermione took the chance. She was still infuritated by his cruel insults and obscene gestures toward her sexuality and she was pissed off. She kicked him in his groin, and he fell backwards, groaning.
She was about to laugh when she heard the sudden rip of paper. She looked around and saw that all the notes that she had spent hours on taking were shredding right in front of her eyes, in his hands. Hermione screamed, her hands waving to her face.
"No! Please, stop! No, I spent hours on it, and weeks planning, oh God," Hermione said, and felt the lump in her throat rise and her eyes began to water. No way was she going to cry in front of him, but she obviously had no choice. Her five page essay that she had worked hard on correcting was being ripped up.
He laughed, and pushed the papers into the air, so that they floated upon her face, flying slowly to the ground.
"Professor McGonagall, she's going to kill me..." she managed to mutter, before her cheeks were pouring with tears.
Draco had surprisingly stopped laughing, and looking sour again.
"Forget it, it's just some damn schoolwork, Granger," he said, looking arkward.
"Just some damn schoolwork? You little mother fucker! You stupid, son of a cocksucking bitch! I spent hours, weeks, organizing everything just because I got points off from the Transfiguration exam! How dare you!" she hollered, her arms crossed over her chest as she cried.
"Look, just forget it," he said softly. She appeared not to hear him, for she was now sitting cross legged on the grass, her hands over her face, her arms shaking. He rolled his eyes and began to walk away.
"This isn't over, Malfoy," she heard her weak call.
This wasn't over yet. Oh no, they had begun this, and they were going to end this, fair and square. Hermione wiped her tears away, grinding her teeth together. All the anger, the helplessness she had felt for years was building, and she was imagining terrible things to get Malfoy killed. It was awful, evil, yes, but nobody deserved to die painfully and burn in hell for years to come than him.
He was going to pay, yes. He was going to pay like a weak, whithering little son of a bitch. She smiled, the plan forming evilly into her mind. Oh yes, it was war.
You haven't taken any time answering my letters nor your mother's. You think Hogwarts will keep you safe, boy? Not a chance, not a chance, not while the greatest dark sorcerer of them all is still out there in hiding. You shall not ignore me forever, son. Make sure to sign up for going home from Christmas, I will not stand your bastardly ways this year. You must be ready for the Dark Lord when the time is right. Remember, you need to study your dark arts much faster this year, by the end of this year, you will have the dark mark imprinted on your arm, and I don't want anything but obediance to the Dark Lord from you, you hear me, boy?
Draco Malfoy's face turned into a scowl upon reading the hastily written note, and he simply folded it and placed it on his dresser. He examined his new private dorm, the one he just arrived in just today. His father had paid well so that the current Prefect would sleep in another room while Draco occupy this one. It would make well for his late night adventures. It was not small, but not huge either. Decorated in silver and green, his house colors, there was a large queen size bed, covered with silk green sheets, and silver curtains. His other valuables looked the same, the same color, except one red colored picture frame kept away in the tuck of his clothes contained a small mini-sized picture of a frowning girl with curly brown hair and hazel eyes. Her arms were folded across her chest, and she had an expressionless face on, her shirt the color of simple white. Draco felt that it was the only thing that had sentimental value in the dorm, and he kept it hidden away from the rest, so nothing could harm it.
He opened the second letter slowly, as if he was capturing the moment. The letter was small, slim, and a peice of parchment colored in lavander, and it smelled of a faint color of rose. He smiled, she always put perfume on her parchment, it was like everything else she owned. Fancy, and lovingly fragranced.
I am to have tea at your mother's this evening. Did you tell her to do so? You know it would not make me happy to have your sour faced mother for company, Drake. You really should come home for Christmas, I am going to Paris with my parents this weekend, and maybe if you work things out, you can organize a portkey to spend time with me there. We'll be staying at that small hotel that you love. I have something very important to tell you, and I need to tell you in person. You have to promise not to freak out.
All my love,
Sarah S. Hatenzel
Your father and I are very lonely without you. You don't spend much time writing to your old parents, now do you? How is Harry, and Ron? Well, we hope. We hope your getting nicely along with your studies, but of course, you always do. What we really wanted to ask you, sweetie, is if you're going to come home for Christmas. Jenny is engaged again, and she wants to spend time with you before she leaves for California with Emma. Emma just celebrated her third birthday, and we really miss you. Things are too much too hassle. I know Jennifer and you are not on bright terms, but please come for Christmas and try to get along with your sister and her daughter. Emma misses her Aunt Hermione.
Mum & Dad
(P.S. Haden says hi and much more)
Hermione smiled at the last little note, and felt her face go crimson red. Haden. Perfect, sixteen year old Haden who she loved Haden. He was a muggle, and was growing to work to be a doctor. Luckily, he lived on Hermione's block back home, and they spent the summer together, and grew up to be amazingly connected friends, with one hitch. Hermione was in love with him. Hermione quickly scribbled back a note to her parents.
Dear Mum & Dad,
Tell Jenny to go to hell. Frankly, I don't give a damn if she's engaged again. Didn't I tell her before not to marry Devon the first time, and now she's probably fallen head over heels for another man that's just going to knock her up and leave her. I am really sick of this, and I want to spend time alone on Christmas, which means I'll be staying with Harry. Give Emma my love and tell her to run while she can, that mother's of hers is a complete idiot.
(P.S. tell Haden I can't wait to see him in the summer! And wish him a happy early Christmas!)
She harshly folded it up and stuck it in a envelope, and sprayed it with faint perfume that smelled of apples. It was sort of her trademark. She tied a small, green bow around it to symbolize Christmas, and left it on her desk. When it was time to go to sleep, she would spend time at the Owlery and send the letter. She took a deep breath and smiled at the second letter. It was folded slowly and neatly, and was tied with a red string.
I have wonderful news. I am in love. Now I know you're probably gaping right now, since you thought old Haden was too stuck up to be in love *wink*. This girl is...she is just perfect. She's funny, cute, outgoing, and wild. She's so smart, like you, Herm, but she knows how to have fun. Her name's Clarissa, and she takes the same classes with me, and she wants to be a sucessful woman as a lawyer when she grows up, but she also wants to have a fun job on the side. She's seventeen, and I know what your thinking, I shouldn't date an older woman. But she really likes me, and we're going to go out this weekend. I am thinking of dinner at Sharden's, the cute little resturant you and I go to all the time. Well, let me know what you think.
Hoping to see you soon,
The morning started out quickly, Draco's dim witted friends, Crabbe and Goyle gobbled down their food and asked for more rapidly, while Draco sat there, forking his food and looking down at it dully. He found it disinteresting, and his gaze wandered over to the Gryffindor table and he smirked. Granger, it seemed, was throughly upset this morning. Her friend, Draco's nemises, Harry, was rubbing her neck encourgagingly, and was whispering to her in a soothing voice while she shook her head vividly.
He watched intently as she got up from the table, gathering her things and leaving the Great Hall. His curiousity got the better of him, and he slowly got up, ignoring the Slytherins. Was that mudblood bitch still over her head over the stupid homework he had ripped up? Pathetic, he thought, retracing her steps. He paused as he saw her figure go into a deserted classroom, used for storage of old potions and cauldrons.
Draco tried the knob and easily went in. Darkness flooded his vision, but he closed the door softly, he saw Granger standing there, her back to him, her arms crossed over her chest, staring into nothing. He smirked and walked quietly behind her, and grabbed her by the waist.
She shrieked in surprise, and turned around to glare at him.
"Malfoy," she noted in disgust. "Come to torture me a bit more, have you? Get a life."
"I have a life, and you should know better than to show your weak insults to me, Granger. I was merely here to get something from here," he lied.
"Oh yeah, sure. I'm very doubtful. What do you need?" she challenged him.
"A six inch pewter spare cauldron colored in black, if you have it," he coolly stated.
She squinted her eyes at him, but after a moment of observation, she looked around and shook her head. "We don't have that. You have to ask one of the professors. That cauldron is used strictly for dark arts that we don't learn 'till seventh year."
"Whatever. What the hell are you doing in here, Granger?"
"That, in fact, is none of your damn buisness, Malfoy. Now go shag Crabbe or something. I have work to do in here. Or did you forget when you completely damaged my work yesterday afternoon?"
She didn't wait for a response, because she didn't get a proper one. He pulled her against him and pressed his lips against hers. Mouthing wordlessly in shock, he took the chance to slide his tongue over her bottom lip. The kiss was priceless, however, when he pressed furthur into her body, she pushed him away with her hands, drying her wet lips with the back of her hand.
"What are you doing, Malfoy? What the hell is your problem?"
"My problem, Granger, is that I'd rather shag you than Crabbe." He said this clearly, bluntly and smoothly, smugly. The trademark smirk of his flickered on his face when she came closer, and placed her hands on his hips.
She leaned foward, her lips inches away from his.
"Oh really? Well I'd rather shag Crabbe and Goyle at the same time before shagging you, Malfoy," she whispered, pressing her lower body against his just for a moment so they were brushing against each other before she let go of him and proceeded to the door.
"By the way, Malfoy...I am getting you back for my homework. You won't like to mess with me after this."
With that, she shut the door.
And locked it.
Draco Malfoy was locked in the storage room, all by himself.
"I am saying this one more time, bitch. What the hell is the damn password to the Slytherin Common Room?"
The little girl squirmed in Hermione's grip.
"Fine! Fine! This week's password is Stupid Mudblood."
Hermione snorted in disgust. "Oh, how original," she snarled, and let go of the girl and the girl hurried off to class.
She stepped in front of the painting and said the password, and the door swung open to admit her. She looked around at the identical common room, that was in a green and silver decor with a little bit of red and black. She looked around, and finally concluded that it was deserted. She knew she had to be fast, and and find Draco's dorm. There wasn't much time left before Draco found out how to magic the door to the storage room open.
Hermione walked through the common room, and found a small door near the end of the staircase, which was painted in curly letters to say Prefect's Dorm.
She turned the knob, and walked in. This was undoubtly Draco's dorm. It was covered in silver and green all over. Wondering how Draco could ever become a prefect, she opened the drawers of the dresser he owned and took out all of his clothes, splattering them on the floor. She went through them, her heart beating against her ribs painfully. The fear of getting caught was quite anxious, but exhilirating. Hermione finally found what she was looking for. Boxers, in the color of red, green and silver. She grinned, and took something from out of her pocket. It was a red permanet marker, magicked so that it was impossible to get off, even by wizarding standards.
She took the first pair of boxers which was silver and began writing.
I fuck trees.
Oh yes, payback was going to be a fun little bitch.
"What in the bloody hell is this?"
Draco Malfoy was staring around at his room, and he was awestruck. Underwear and other clothes were thrown all over the place, personal items strewn upon the bed. If he was a girl, he'd shriek and squeal and break into pieces, but Draco Malfoy was not one to be made a fool out of.
Sighing in shock, he picked up his silver boxers, which had been paid for and inscripted the Slytherin Serpent by his own father. He made a raw noise of anger, for in the back, was written in clear, red words were:
I fuck trees.
Who had done this? Who the fuck in this world had been brave enough to challenge a Malfoy? Ruin his property, and trespass on everything his father had paid so much for? It was not likely to be a Slytherin, for most feared him, and it certainly wasn't any of the Slytherin Girls, because they worshipped him beyond control because of his Godly tendancies in bed. And besides, they were too stupid and not careful to create such a mess and not leave any evidence.
Was there any evidence? It seemed whoever the intruder was had something harsh against him and was very clever indeed.
Groaning, he grabbed his wand from the drawer and whipped it around lazily.
Clothes were starting to rise and they placed themselves neatly together in a bundle in the middle of the floor.
This spell did not have much effect at all. The stains and written words upon his clothes merely looked drenched, and the color was now dripping on the sides of clothing.
He bit his lip, and started picking them up and folding them by hand. This was house elf work! Whoever did this was going to pay, and pay big they were. Nobody messed with a Malfoy and got away with it!
As he folded the clothes and put them neatly in drawers, he sniffed the air suspiciously.
It smelled of something different, not of Draco's faint cologne as it usually smelled like. No, this scent was entirely different, and it smelled of fresh apples. He found this smell oddly familiar, a perfume of some kind, clearly belonging to a girl's,and as he sniffed enticingly throughout his room, a grin started to spread through his face...
Hermione tapped her quill against her chin, thinking. What would she write? What could she write? The boy she had fallen in love with during the summer after her 5th year was in love with someone else! Someone else who was smarter, prettier, and older, and spunkier than her. What had she done so wrong to deserve this?
You're in love, huh? That's great, buddy!
She made a cringing face and crossed that sentence out. That's great buddy? It sounded extremely homosexual! She couldn't write anything like that, it would seem too obvious. Haden was working up to become a doctor, for heaven's sakes, he was not one to be fooled. She continued, starting with a fresh new piece of parchment.
I'm really glad you're doing good back home. Things are fine here. Clarissa seems like a nice enough girl, I think you chose well. I won't be home for Christmas, I'd like to stay here for a while. With my friends. I hope you're doing well, and I hope you have a happy Christmas. With Clarissa.
There, she thought as she folded up the letter and stuck it inside the letter to her parents. Since Haden knew nothing of the Wizarding World, he was told that Hermione was going to a private boarding school in Long Island, and Hermione knew she could trust her parents enough to give the letter straight to him. Spraying another layer of her apple scented perfume, she wrapped another ribbon around the two letters and set off to the Owlery.
I will be ready.
You know how bratty mothers can be. Sorry I can't come this weekend. Perhaps it will be better if I come next weekend? I want to hear what important thing you have to tell me. I'm doing well in school, and Father thinks I should get the Dark Mark soon. You want to know what's been going on here? Well, not much. I ripped up this mudblood's homework, and she got all pissed off and trashed my private room here. That's all so far. I miss you, I've only slept with Pansy and this dumb Hufflepuff girl since we got here. You know, these people need to learn how to fuck, they have poor stragedies. You, Sarah, are so much more compared to them.
I look foward to seeing you next weekend,
Draco L. Malfoy
Draco took the letters and folded it up. His owl, Daren, was up in the Owlery, eating. Snorting in disgust, he stuffed the letters in his robes and reluctantly looking around his room, he shut the door behind him, placing a locking charm as he left.
Hermione looked around, observing the owls. A rather darling owl that was pure black with white highlights flew around her head, and she noticed that the owl had a small green ribbon placed stragetically on it's collar. She grabbed the owl slowly and patted it on it's head, smiling at it. She looked at the ribbon, it was pure emerald and as she looked closely, she saw a silver snake imprinted upon the nape.
Before she could figure out what it meant, she heard footsteps behind her, and someone say, "Granger, get your filthy hands off my owl."
She whipped around and was so surprised that she let the owl go, and it flew over to Draco in an instant, perching itself upon his finger. She observed him, a frown on her face. He was wearing black robes, a green scarf, and his hair wasn't slicked back, but thrown in a messy manner. He was glaring at her in disgust and she smiled sweetly at him. He obviously hadn't forgotten the hours he spent stuck in the storage room when she had locked him in.
"Sorry, Dray-co, didn't know that darling owl was yours," she said, grinning.
He looked at her strangely, and she stood there as he pinned two small parchments into the owl's beak. He whispered something to the raven owl and patted it softly on it's head. The owl obeyed and flew across the room and out a nearby window.
"Rare owl, it is. A Collerby, I persume? That's a beautiful one, mostly they're white, but little precious Daddy wanted to get the best for Draky, eh?" Granger seemed to be in a delightful mood, Draco noted bitterly.
"Glad you're enjoying my misery, Granger. Really, don't you think it's a bit harsh to mess up my property when I ripped up some stupid assignment of yours?"
Her smile flickered slightly, but widened slowly as he glared at her.
"Stupid? I don't care what you accuse me of, Malfoy. But my work isn't stupid. In fact, it's rather clever. More clever than yours. I bet Daddy Dearest was surprised when a little mudblood beat you in every exam?" she said innocently.
His glared tightened and he walked toward her. She watched nervously as he took hold of her shoulders and pushed her against the wall. Pain surfaced in her back, but he didn't seem to notice. Draco pressed against her grimly and planted his forehead over his.
"Listen, here, you little bitch, you. Nobody messes with a Malfoy and gets away with it. Nobody. I don't give a damn if you're top in the class, the fact that I'll have the pleasure killing you and your parents soon speaks for itself," he spat.
Hermione squirmed at his tight grip, but he didn't let go. Instead, he moved his face slightly toward hers so that their lips were inches away from each other. Hermione took an intake of her breath as he lowered his lips.
She could feel Draco's bottom lip brushing against her top one, and she quivered slightly. Closing her eyes on instinct, she relaxed in his tight embrace, unwillingly enjoying the feeling of his toned chest pressed hard against her bosom.
"Does the little mudblood like this?" he whispered mockingly at her. Hermione kept her eyes closed as she felt his fingers explore her sides. She whimpered as she felt something hard pressing against her hips.
"Well it seems you certainly do," Hermione replied, still keeping her eyelids closed. Her nose was on the bridge of his cheek, and their lips were almost touching. She knew with one single movement, her and Malfoy would be kissing. And what scared her the most, was that she actually wanted the movement to happen. Leaning foward an inch, their lips brushed against each other, and she felt Draco take a painful breath. She scrunched up her forehead in confusion. What the hell was wrong with him?
Letting all thoughts swim away from her head, she put her hands on her neck and pulled him closer.
Stupid mudblood, he thought loathingly. Even though he hated her to his every being, he had to admit she was damn hot, and the thing that turned him on the most was that she was completely humbled by it. She was one of the few Gryffindors that actually bothered to wear her robes properly, and she hid that sweet little body inside those insane clothes. The thought wanted to make him rip them off of her. The fact that they were sworn enemies since their first year, and they were in opposite houses and that this was forbidden gave Draco a chill of excitement he had never felt with Sarah, that forebidding feeling that plunged into his body.
Sarah, he suddenly remembered, he took a painful breath. He saw Granger's face scrunch up in puzzlement before she pulled him towards her, kissing him. The fragrence of apples reached his nostrils, and he felt himself getting drowsy. He scowled at himself for being such a cunt. How could he just lose control over a stupid mudblood? But she's quite hotter than you expected, another voice said in her head. Her thigh was clinging to his hip now, and she was pressing hard against him. Her lips weren't that bad either, how they seemed to pay attention to small corners of his flesh and make him want more. Her lips left off of his, and he started to protest, but felt her fingertip stop him.
Granger's lips were now slipping past his chin and onto his neck. Her lips were brushing so timidly against his skin that he grabbed ahold of her brown curls in case the loss of control seemed to happen. He vaguely recalled that she was unbuttoning his shirt, and he stopped her. She gaped at him in surprise, but her mouth went down when he pressed his lips against hers again. She gave in, holding onto him tightly for support of balance. One hand was wandering around her backside, and one was placed firmly on her ribcage, going upward and downward.
Hermione gave what was unmistakingly a small moan, and her knee was now placed between his knees. It happened so fast that they were unable to stop it. The door to the Owlery opened suddenly, and they both pulled away from each other quickly.
The intruder was a small fifth year Hufflepuff girl, the one that Draco had slept with in the beginning of the term. She shot him a suspicious glance, but all she did was take a small white colored owl from the selection and left.
"That, was close," breathed Hermione.
"Yeah, really close," Draco said, a small smirk placed on his lips.
The beautiful girl tugged strings of hair out of her way, and set down to read her lover's latest letter. Her eyes darted toward the last words.
You want to know what's been going on here? Well, not much. I ripped up this mudblood's homework, and she got all pissed off and trashed my private room here. That's all so far. I miss you, I've only slept with Pansy and this dumb Hufflepuff girl since we got here. You know, these people need to learn how to fuck, they have poor stragedies. You, Sarah, are so much more compared to them.
I look foward to seeing you next weekend,
Draco L. Malfoy
Sarah snorted in disgust. Cordially yours? What happend to love, yours truly, sincerely, even? Sarah however, was flattered that she bedded Draco better than other girls. She took a pen out and ripped off a pink piece of paper from her stationary and began writing back.
Hermione was only aware that Draco Malfoy was snogging her.
"Draco," she said, pushing him away and wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "We - I have - we have to stop."
"What the fuck?" he exclaimed, looking at her hungrily. She looked away, and felt him pull her into his arms again. As soon as his lips touched hers again, she lost all the control she had managed to regain. She felt herself being pulled into a hard surface of the floor, and she heard Draco whisper something that sounded oddly like "I'd rather fuck you than trees."
This is a very hard letter for me to write. Perhaps it shouldn't be written at all. But I need to tell you this. I can't wait for next weekend, this needs to be said right now. I am pregnant. Your mother knows, I told her during our tea. I wanted to tell you before, but I couldn't stand it. I can't wait to see you again.
(P.S., I'm flattered I am a better fuck than those two girls. And that mudblood sounds like a bitch. I'll take care her if you want me to.)
It had been two weeks since the incident at the Owlery, and Draco and Hermione had been avoiding each other. Hermione was busy studying for exams, while Draco did his usual strut around the school and earned unfair points for Slytherin from Snape. As Hermione read her schedule, she groaned aloud. Double Potions with the Slytherins. It was a nightmare waiting to happen. Ever since her lips had been placed on Draco's, she couldn't forget the rush of feelings that had exploded inside her, causing her to squirm every so often. She hated Draco, loathed him to his very being, and didn't want to have a crush on him. All the years that he had taunted her about being muggleborn were far too much to forgive and forget. She wished she could strangle him, and laugh while he died. But, she wanted to kiss him also. It was a slight delima that not even drowning herself in studying could cure. Everytime she woke up in the morning, she went to breakfast and had a nagging suspicion that someone was watching her. However, when her glance went to the Slytherin table, Draco seemed to be occupied with his food. Was she just being paranoid? Or did her subcouncious really want to catch Malfoy staring at her?
The answer came in Potions. Ron and Harry were walking beside her, and she wasn't listening to a word they were saying. She was looking around, feeling a stare at the back of her neck. Shrugging the thought off, she continued walking to class, and managed to hear clips of conversation.
"So, Hermione and I will ...."
"What?" she turned her attention to her friends, were talking excitedly to each other.
"We were just finalizing the plans. Harry's going to be with Sarah at Hogesmade, so I thought we could go together," said Ron, giving her a half smile. She widened her eyes, turning away, a silent dread growing in her stomach. Hermione knew very well Ron had feelings for her, but she had gotten over her silly crush on him in their fifth year, however, it was obvious that Ron hadn't.
"Hermione? You agree right?"
Hermione looked at him, finally managing a wide smile.
"Of course, Ron. We'll have fun," she said. His ears turned red, and he grinned back at her, going back to talking to Harry. She sighed softly, and was thinking about excuses not to go when there was a tap on her shoulder.
Draco Malfoy was vaguely aware that ever since their make out session, Granger seemed hesitant to talk to him. Of course, it wasn't like he wanted to talk to her, it just annoyed him when girls thought they could dump him. That's my job, he thought smugly to himself. He glanced lazily at his schedule, and saw that next was Double Potions with Gryffindors. He grinned. Perfect. That little mudblood Granger couldn't avoid him then. As he was walking to class, he saw the famous trio walking across the halls. Catching up with him, he walked softly behind them, trying to hear bits of conversation.
"I thought we could go together," Weasley was saying. Draco stopped for a second, before regaining his walking. Was he saying that to Granger? Go together where? A forebidding rush fell into his stomach, and he saw Granger look away from Weasley as he turned red. Anger flooded Draco, did the little mudblood think that he was going to let her off the hook so easily?
"Hermione you agree right?" added Weasley, with a pathetic hopefulness in his voice.
Granger looked back at Weasley and gave him a wide smile that made Draco want to choke her to death, right there. "Of course, Ron. We'll have fun."
She sighed softly, probably relieved she finally had a date, Draco thought harshly. Unaware of what he was doing, Draco reached up his hand and tapped Granger on the shoulder. She stopped and turned around, her brown hair swirling across her shoulders.
"Herm - Herm, what're you waiting for?" Potter was saying, and he and Weasley stopped and turned around like her, giving Draco furious glares.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Weasley said, grinding his teeth. Draco snorted. As if the Weasel could do anything to him.
"I want to speak to Granger," he said with relish.
"What would you want with me, Malfoy?" Granger prompted, giving him a warning look. He smirked at her slowly.
"Oh I am sorry, I'll leave you alone. I guess kissing in the Owlery meant nothing to you...?" he remarked innocently.
Weasley and Potter clenched their fists, giving him murderous glares.
"Get away from her, Malfoy. Like she would kiss filth like you," Potter spat. Weasley didn't trust himself to speak, he merely glared at Malfoy in an unsure way.
Draco gave a mock gasp. "You mean, you didn't tell your best friends about us, Granger?"
They both looked at Granger, awaiting her denial. But she gave none, to Draco's satisfaction. Her mouth was slightly open, and her eyes were flaming, her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.
"Harry, Ron, can you go inside the classroom? I'd like to have a word with Malfoy here," she said casually, glancing at them. They opened their mouths to protest, but Hermione pushed them into Snape's classroom and closed the door. He had never seen her so mad in her life. Unlike her shocked and innocent expression when he had accused her of kissing him in front of her two best friends, this time he could see she was really pissed off. Her fists were clenched, and her eyes wide, her lips set in a firm straight line.
"You have some fucking nerve," Hermione said. He smirked at her, although his eyes were narrowing dangerously.
"You - bitch," Hermione said calmly. She had never been so pissed off in her entire life. He had teased her often about her muggleborn parents, and the fact that she had bushy hair, but embarassing her in front of her two best friends with complete truth had caught her offguard. She didn't want to screw around with his mind anymore. She wanted to kill him, with her bare hands. It scared her, the anger that rose inside of her, but it felt oddly exhilirating, and she wanted to feel the outrageous feeling more often. Instead of killing him, she settled for pushing him against the wall. Hard. His head banged against the hard surface, and he groaned, rubbing his head with his hand.
"You're going to pay for that, Granger," he yelled, whipping out his wand, but Hermione was already ready. She kicked him hard on the groin with her knee, and he yelled out loudly, his wand dropping to the floor. She picked it up and jabbed it to his chest as he sat against the wall, groaning in agony.
"You think just because I'm a girl that I don't play rough? Think again, Malfoy. God or your father can't save your ass this time. And to think, you're going to get murdered by a girl."
"I don't believe in God," Malfoy replied.
Hermione's anger rose once more, and she pulled his hand over his neck, clutching it tightly. To hear Malfoy speaking about God like that was enough.
"I don't fucking care, you hear me?" she whispered, leaning dangerously close to his face.
Suddenly, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her down to the floor, holding her down with his palm on her head.
Hermione whimpered in pain. The sharp edge of the floor was grinding against her her head, and Draco's fingers were covering her eyes slightly.
All that she could feel was a soft brushing against her lips, and a tingling sensation running through them. Those lips were so soft, she thought vaguely, pressing against them. The tingle was spreading from her bottom lip to her top. She didn't want to stop, and she didn't want to think. He pressed against her body, and she pulled herself against him, trying to feel more of him. Her hands were numb, and so was her mind. His hand was rubbing against her hip, making her shift uncomfortably against him, where she could feel his throbbing hardness. He's turned on, she thought, wanting to smile. It was flattering how she could make him react so easily with one, swift movement. His nails were digging against her forehead, and she whimpered once more, feeling the pricking numbness in her temples.
"You be a good little girl now," he murmured softly, his lips kissing the front of her neck and spreading through her breasts. Her robes swifted open easily, and it revealed a white blouse, trimmed and pressed neatly. He chuckled, his teeth on one of the buttons. She pushed him away and unbuttoned it slowly, her eyes on his face. He watched intently as she finished the process, showing the small cleavage of her flesh. He smirked slightly and proceeded to go on top of her again, but she obviously had other plans, because she pushed him against the floor, and leaned close to his ear.
"We could caught, you know," she said innocently. Dra-Malfoy laughed and squeezed her hip encouragingly.
"Isn't that the fun part?" he said enticingly. Hermione smiled and got up and Malfoy gulped. Her strapless bra was hanging loosely across her skin, and her robes were halfway hanging down her waist, and she pulled them off, so she was only wearing her skirt. Instead of taking off her shoes and high knee socks, she put her hands on her hips and looked at him expentantly.
"Hey, it's not fair if I'm the only one going to be naked," she said, pouting. He clumsily got up, glaring at her. He stripped off his robes and looked back at her stubbornly.
"Not enough skin, Mr.Malfoy," Hermione said, grinning. "Your not self councious, are you?" she asked mockingly, with a gasp.
His glare deepened as he started pulling on his shirt, but then he hesitated. "You take off your bra."
They must've been pretty loud, because the classroom door nearby to the Potions Classroom opened, and Hermione, horrified, stood numbly in her place, scared to look that way.
"You are disturbing my class- what the ..."
She finally took a deep breath, and to her horror, Professor Snape was staring at them crossly, but his expression changed swiftly into complete shock as he eyed the students. Gryffindor Prefect, half naked, standing across from Slytherin Prefect, who had his robes off. They must've been quite a sight. Hermione's body was numb from disbelief. It can't get any worse, she thought dreadingly.
But it did. Students were peering out curiously, to see what had caused such a disturbance to have Snape open the door and end in a gasp. Harry and Ron were among them.
This just gets better and better, Hermione thought bitterly.
Harry quickly covered his eyes with his hand. Ron did nothing, he stood there, numbly looking at them. Snape pushed them, restricting them to come outside of his classroom with his arm, and shut the door, and examining Draco and Hermione with a funny look on his face. Hermione was oddly surprised to see a flush covering his usually pale, cold cheeks.
"You two may go back to your dorms until Potions is over. We will discuss this matter later. Get your slimy clothes off the floor, and get out of my sight! NOW!" he roared, causing them both to jump. Blushing furiously, Hermione gathered her robes swiftly and pulled it over her shoulders, turning away from her Potions Professor. She heard footsteps behind her, and she assumed Draco was following.
As they were out of sight near the classroom, Hermione chose this moment to hide her humiliation and take it out on Draco.
"You little bastard! Look what you did! Oh my God, I'm going to be suspended! Or worse, expelled!" she moaned, muttering under her breath.
"Calm down, you wrench. He's not going to give you a freaking suspension because of this! I expect about twenty or more points off of our houses, and detentions."
"You wish! Whatever, Malfoy. I'm going to go back to my dorm, before you get me in any more trouble," she sneered, turning on her heel and walking onto the other direction. He shook his head, sighing as he watched her bundle of brown hair swing behind her.
What a bitch, he thought bitterly, and started up to his dorms.
Surprisingly, Malfoy was right. However, it was not Snape that had come, but Professor McGonagall. By the time she was done with a hurried lecture of sexuality, Hermione's face was flushed. Finally, she took off 25 needed points off of Slytherin and Gryffindor, and gave them three detentions for the week, which they would spend time cleaning the Owlery,various classrooms, and assisting Professor Flitwick reorganizing the various feathers and other ingredients in his classroom.
When Hermione had attended her classes after that, she sat next to Neville, avoiding Harry and Ron's piercing stares that were poring into her back. Although she was pretending to be busy scribbling down notes, what she was really doing was doodling in History of Magic.
Her perfect cursive read these curly letters:
bitch bitch who does he think he is, what a bitch.
Henry the Third was famous for thinking of the Lurid Potion, which would lure anybody into a hidden area of the Forbidden Curse of Wisdom, used by Henry the SECOND at ....
Oh yes, she was studying quite hard this semester.
Draco did his usual strut to the Common Room when it was six o'clock. He murmured the password and walked in, examining the people that were chatting near the fireplace. People stopped to stare at him as he passed by to go to his Prefect Dorm. There was a tap on his shoulder.
It was Peter Lufflehyrt, a fellow 4th year Slytherin that usually stuttered and had a mass full of brown curls. He coughed nervously, his eyes darting around suspiciously.
"What is it, Lufflehyrt? I'm busy."
"A letter - a letter's has arrived for you sir, it was delivered in the Common Room, nobody wanted to open -"
"Where is it?" Draco said, looking around the large room curiously.
"I have it right here," Peter exclaimed excitedly, tugging something out of his pocket. Ah yes, Draco thought with satisfaction. It was indeed a reply from Sarah.
"Get your filthy hands off it," he said, snatching the letter from Peter's quivering hands.
He opened the door to his Prefect Dorm, cast a locking charm, and opened the door, casually plomping down into his bed.
Draco opened the letter, his eyes pondering around the written words.
Hermione groaned as she felt her eyes blink open. It had been a rough night, trying to get to sleep with all the things from yesterday passing through her mind. She blinked again, pulling her eyes into vision. She was in her bed, except there was something extremely unusual. Hermione took an intake of her breath, and found herself staring into wide, green eyes that looked back at her.
She shrieked, falling off her bed and thumping onto the floor.
"Ouch!" she squealed, rubbing her head vigourously.
"Sorry 'bout that," a familiar voice said apologetically, and offered her a hand. She accepted, sitting herself in the bed again, her vision a bit dizzy.
"I didn't mean to scare you."
It was Harry. He was already wearing his robes, and his eyes were looking at her with a strange look through his primmed glasses.
"Harry! What're you doing here?" Hermione rubbed her tired eyes, trying to make sure this wasn't just another dream.
He paused, his fingers tapping on her pillow. Finally, after a few moments of thinking, he finally spoke.
"We're really worried about you, 'Mione," he finally replied vaguely.
"Ron and me...he doesn't want to show it, but he's jealous."
"Jealous? Jealous of what?"
"You know how Ron fancies you! I mean, it was really shocking, the way you just...argh, the thought of you and Malfoy together makes me sick," Harry said suddenly, making a face.
"I'm not with Malfoy!"
"Um, half dressed in front of him is, 'Mione."
Hermione couldn't help the huge blush creeping up to her cheeks.
"It- it's hard to explain, but I hate him! Please, you have to believe me! I swear to on my life I hate him, loathe him! I wish he would die! Please, Harry, please believe me."
There was a long silence.
"I believe you want to believe you hate him," he finished pathetically.
"Oh God, this is so stupid! It was just a moment! A heated elapse, stupid freaking hormones, you have to admit he's not really ugly or anything! It was nothing!"
"It was something if it happened with one of your enemies and not with a friend that fancies you, 'Mione," Harry pointed out.
"Oh, you shut up," she snapped.
He did. But all that went through Hermione's head through the needed silence was strange buzzing in her ears.
"Oh God, Ron hates me, doesn't he?" Hermione groaned, collapsing into Harry's arms. Her nose rubbed against the material of his robes. He smoothed down her hair comfortingly.
"Nope. He just wants you even more. Just answer me one question, 'Mione, do you like Ron?"
Hermione sighed, closing her eyes.
"No, not like that, Harry. You know I care about him more than anything else in the world, but he's not boyfriend material, I just don't feel anything, you know?"
"How come? And what do you mean?"
She shrugged. "Like, I just don't feel excited when I brush up against him like this," she demonstrated this by snuggling more closer to him.
"And..." Hermione paused. "And, when he whispers in my ear, I'm supposed to feel this weird tingling sensation, but I don't," she muttered in his ear.
"Also, when his leg brushes against mine, I don't feel any lust or anything," Hermione said, her leg pushing against Harry's.
Hermione looked up, and saw an unreadable expression in Harry's eyes.
"What is it?"
Harry looked down at her. " 'Mione...I..."
His best friend closed her eyes, leaning her face toward his. Their lips brushed against each other for a split second, before Hermione pulled away, looking at him in horror.
"Oh my God," she breathed.
"Hermione - wait..."
"You need to go! Please!" she urged. He nodded dumbly, getting up and parting the drapes around her bed. As his footsteps faded away slowly, she collapsed back in her bed, touching her lips with her fingertips.
As if she needed any more trouble.