You are viewing a story from harrypotterfanfiction.com
View Online | Printer Friendly Version of Entire Story
Chapter 8: Fine line between love and hate
“Read to me,” he said.
Hermione almost laughed, “You want me to read to you?” Draco nodded, “Damn Malfoy … are you going to leave me hanging every time you kiss me?”
Draco laughed too. “The night is young,” he leaned down close to her ear so that his lips lightly brushed against her earlobe and whispered in a raspy voice, “And I think you’re incredibly sexy when you read.”
This sent chills down Hermione’s spine. “Have a seat,” she finally managed to say as she opened “Gone with the Wind,” cleared her throat, and began to read aloud to Draco.
“He swung her off her feet into his arms and started up the stairs,” Hermione read. She had lost track of how long she had been reading for, as had Draco, who was intent on watching the way her lips moved and how they formed every syllable that rolled off her tongue. When he could no longer take it, he stood up and positioned himself behind her. Gently pushing aside her long tendrils of golden brown hair, he placed his lips on Hermione’s neck, making it very difficult for her to read. “Her head was crushed against his chest and she heard the hard hammering of his heart beneath her ears,” she stopped and smiled, loving the feeling of his lips on her skin.
“Mmm … keep reading …” said Draco.
“How do you expect me to read when you’re doing that?” Hermione purred, closing her eyes and craning her neck to accommodate him.
When Hermione opened her eyes again, she was staring into what appeared to be two glowing yellow orbs on the stairs. She straightened, and getting a better view, said, “Uh oh.”
Draco’s head rose from her neck, “What’s wrong?”
“Mrs. Norris,” Hermione said, staring at the cat who sat on the stairs. Then she looked at the clock on the wall, which had only two sides and one arrow. The sides read “Library” and “Dormitories.” The arrow pointed to “Dormitories.”
Standing up, Hermione said, “Filch will be coming if Mrs. Norris is here, and the library is closed.”
“Follow me,” Draco said, holding out his hand which Hermione took. Draco peeked his head around the corner of the staircase to see if Filch was there. “Coast is clear,” he said, as he and Hermione quietly and carefully made their ways past Mrs. Norris, who meowed loudly at them.
Filch’s gruffly voice echoed down from upstairs. “What is it, Mrs. Norris? Is someone down there?”
Both Hermione’s and Draco’s eyes widened as they turned to go back down, but they weren’t quick enough.
“What are you two doing out of your rooms?” Filch asked, standing atop the stairs, then, making his way down, said, “It’s after hours you know, you can get detention for that!”
Draco and Hermione backed away from him. Draco knew the stairs were so dark there was a possibility that Filch hadn’t seen their faces. “Run,” he whispered in Hermione’s ear.
Hermione shook her head in obvious protest, but Draco pulled her arm, as they flew down the rest of the stairs and got lost in a maze of high towering bookcases. When they finally stopped, Hermione said, “What are you doing? We can’t run from Filch!”
“Come on, Hermione!” said Draco, “I bet he didn’t even see our faces.”
Mrs. Norris walked into the isle they were standing in. She walked closer and closer to them, Draco and Hermione both urging her to be silent. It didn’t work. Her meow was loud and rang through the stacks.
“I’m coming, Mrs. Norris! We’re gonna catch those kids! We’re gonna catch ‘em and lock ‘em in the dungeon!”
This time it was Hermione who pulled on Draco’s arm, and they bolted to the stairs again and dashed up them. Filch was obviously close, because they could hear him ordering them to stop from just below. Hermione and Draco kept running all the way down the hall, until they were absolutely sure they had lost Filch.
“In here!” Hermione said, stopping next to a solid wall.
Draco smirked, “Smart thinking, Granger.” They both walked along the wall three times, when the Room of Requirement opened. Filch would never find them in there.
They rushed inside the room, and when the door to the room magically closed, Hermione and Draco both plopped themselves on the floor so they were leaning against the wall. Hermione bust out into fits of laughter. “I can’t … believe … I just ran … away … from Filch!” Hermione said between laughs.
Draco laughed too, because in all honesty, he couldn’t believe she did either. “I think I’m being a bad influence on you,” he admitted with a chuckle.
Finally calming herself down, she laid her head on Draco’s shoulder and allowed herself to scan the room that both of their minds put together had created. It was apparent that they had both been thinking the same thing, for she was sitting in a bedroom, clad in red, gold, green, and silver. The colors gave the room a very cozy and comfortable feeling, and there in the middle of the room was a bed with silk sheets, the Gryffindor and Slytherin colors dancing over it. It was so strange to see the two rivalry house colors decorating one bed. It looked exquisite.
Draco stood up and scooped Hermione into his strong arms, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and laced her fingers together through his soft silver hair. “Miss Scarlet O’Hara, your bed awaits you,” Draco said teasingly, imitating the book they were just reading.
“Why thank you, Mr. Rhett Butler,” said Hermione. Draco lowered her gently down onto the bed, gazing into her face. He stayed leaned over her for a while, studying the brown depths of her eyes, trying to figure out what she wanted. He was just about to tell her that they didn’t have to do anything if she didn’t want to or didn’t feel comfortable, but didn’t because at that moment, Hermione put one hand behind his head and clutched his green and silver tie with the other as she crushed his lips to hers with such force it almost knocked Draco off his feet.
He quickly moved his body on top of hers, never once breaking the connection of their lips, which seemed to be fused together by some chemical reaction. Hermione moved her hand from his silky smooth hair and began to loosen his tie. Draco did the same to her red and gold Gryffindor tie. “I never understood why they make the girls wear these,” he said as he pulled the long tie over her head and threw it on the floor, “It looks sexy on you though,” he went back to kissing her, placing gentle kisses first on her lips, then her jaw, her neck, and worked his way down until his lips reached her chest, his teeth teasing the buttons on her white shirt.
One by one, the buttons came undone. At first, Hermione was quite impressed by this skill. Then a jealousy caught in her throat, as she realized the only reason he could do that was because he had been with other girls. Probably lots of other girls.
It didn’t take long until her white button down shirt was flailing open. Draco stared down at her pink lacy bra and slowly bent down to bury his head there. Hermione gasped, and then said, “Draco …”
His head shot up. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked.
“No … no. It’s just that … well, I haven’t ever actually …”
She didn’t have to finish what she was saying. Draco nodded in understanding. “I guess we’d better do this properly then, eh?” he said, “That is, of course, only if you’re sure.”
Hermione nodded. She was breathing heavily, her heart feeling as though it was about to beat out of her chest. “I’m surer than sure,” she said, “I’ve never been more sure about anything.” She then proceeded to unbutton his shirt with trembling fingers, “I’m afraid I don’t possess your clever skills,” she grinned as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, letting her fingertips trail along his skin. Draco shuddered under her touch, and his lips found hers again. He was glad for the enchantment he had put over the dark mark on his arm, magically concealing it from everyone’s view except his own. And the Dark Lord’s, of course.
She hadn’t realized her black skirt was down to her ankles until Draco removed it from her around her feet and let it drop to the floor. He buried his face in her neck and began to work at the clasp of her bra as Hermione toiled over the belt buckle of Draco’s black slacks. Finally, Draco was down to only his green boxer shorts and Hermione to her panties.
They stayed this way for a long moment until Draco sat up on his knees. Hermione followed suit, both kneeling in front of each other. They reached out at the same time to slowly pull the other’s last garment of clothing off, and Hermione stared in amazement at the exquisiteness that is Draco Malfoy.
The corners of Draco’s lips curled up, and Hermione blushed as she realized she’d been staring. Draco put his arm around her back and slowly and gently leaned her down on the bed, lying on top of her. Their skin touched, and Hermione knew this was the way it was supposed to be. They fit perfectly together. He kissed her lightly on the lips, and then looked into her face. She smiled at him, and Draco knew this was Hermione’s way of telling him she was ready.
Hermione was surprised by the tenderness in which Draco entered her. She gasped as she felt him inside of her, and soothingly, Draco began to rock. She rocked with him, digging her fingernails into his white creamy shoulders.
“… Hermione …” Draco groaned against her lips. Hermione felt so overpowered with pleasure over the affect she had on him that she couldn’t help the moan that escaped from her own mouth.
Their desire for each other finally exploded in a wave of pleasure, and they both fell limp against each other, Hermione feeling like she’d just run a marathon. She snuggled up against him, and before falling asleep, said, “I guess you won your bet after all.”
When Draco dreamed that night, it was again of the repulsive mark on his arm. The snake protruding from the ghastly skull all of a sudden jut out of his skin and came to life. He was lying next to Hermione in a bed much like the one he was in now, and the snake began to slither its way up his arm, transfer over to her arm, and wrap it’s long smooth body around the sleeping girl’s neck. When she awoke and felt the snake strangling her, she screamed the most ear piercing anguish-filled shriek Draco had ever heard. Then, there was a blinding flash of green light, when Draco woke up.
He awoke with his eyes wide open and instinctively snapped his head in Hermione’s direction. It was only a dream, he assured himself, of course Hermione is fine. But he still couldn’t help watching for the steady rise and fall of her chest, and when he saw it he let out a breath of air he hadn’t known he’d been holding.
He sat upright carefully so as not to wake her and pulled on his boxer shorts. Lifting his forearm to face him, he realized the magic he had put on his arm to mask the spot on his arm was gone. It was Crabbe and Goyle who had taught it to him, and they’d told him it didn’t last for very long … and besides, the Dark Lord usually always found out when the spell was being used so it was a very risky curse. He wondered if maybe You-Know-Who somehow found out he was trying to hide his “loyalty” to him and that’s why he’d had such a terrible nightmare.
Rubbing at his arm fiercely, he wished he had never followed his father into this. What kind of life was in store for him? The life of a Death Eater. That’s not even a life worth living, Draco thought. But his father had drilled it into his brain since he was just a boy that there were only three things he wanted his son to achieve in his life. One, to be sorted into Slytherin at Hogwarts, two, to follow in the Malfoy name of the Dark Lord’s most devoted Death Eater, and three, to marry a pureblood (who was also a Slytherin) and have pureblood babies (who will be future Slytherins). He’d already accomplished one and was on the road to the second one, although not willingly …
Draco stood up and found his pants on the floor. He pulled out his wand from one of his pockets and pointing the wand at the mark on his arm, used a spell Hermione had used on him days ago. “Aguamenti,” he whispered, and watched as a stream of water poured out of the tip of his wand and onto the darkness. He knew it would do no good, but he couldn’t help letting the water wash over him while using his other hand to rub his arm until his skin turned red and raw.
“Draco?” Hermione asked sleepily. Draco whirled around, putting his arm to his side, ashamed of the mark. “What are you doing?”
“Erm … nothing. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep,” said Draco.
Hermione seemed to be nodding off into sleep when her eyes suddenly snapped open again. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know, why?” Draco asked, startled by Hermione’s sudden outburst.
“I have Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning!” she shouted, “And so do you! You’re in that class with me!” she rustled out of bed and began frantically throwing her clothes on, Draco watching her all the while with a smirk. “Don’t you care that we might be missing class?”
Draco let out a small laugh. “Not really. I find this much more amusing.”
Hermione mimicked an infamous Draco Malfoy smirk and finished dressing. “No time for that, Draco. We are going to be late, if we aren’t late already.”
Draco wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms right there, but the embarrassment of what was hiding on his arm prevented him. It would have been impossible for Hermione not to notice it if he tried anything.
“So … how are we going to do this?” Hermione asked with a hint of hesitation.
Draco did not have to ask her what she was talking about. As much as he wanted to piss her friends Potty and Weasel King off by walking into class hand in hand with Hermione Granger, he didn’t want to risk anything after the two dreams he’d had. If word somehow leaked to his father that he was seeing a mud – a muggleborn, he wasn’t sure what he would do, and he wasn’t particularly keen on finding out. “I’ll follow after you,” said Draco.
“Oh,” said Hermione. “I didn’t realize this had to be some big secret.” Obviously hurt, she began to walk from the room.
Draco caught her shoulder with his arm with the dark mark on it, and then quickly switched arms as he realized his mistake before Hermione did. “It’s not like that,” he explained, “It’s just that I can’t have my father find out.”
Hermione’s face contorted in anger and she looked like she was about to slap him. “You’re afraid of your father?” she asked incredulously. She shook her head in disgust. “You’ll never change, will you Draco? I thought you’d actually grown up. But no … you’re still just a boy.”
Now it was Draco’s turn to be angry. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, so quit being so thick! Would a ‘boy,’ as you say, have this on his arm?” And without even thinking about what he was doing before he did it, he reached out his forearm and turned it up toward Hermione.
Hermione gasped in horror as her hand flew to her mouth. “You’re a – a –“
“Death Eater,” Draco finished for her. “Don’t you dare accuse me of being just a boy, when you have no clue the things I’ve gone through. The things I’ve seen. The things I’ve done …” he looked away from her and continued, “You want the truth? Yes, I’m afraid of my father. I’m scared to fucking death of him, because if I slip up just once, he’s already threatened to turn me over to – to – well, him.”
“Draco …” Hermione said, not knowing what else to say. She was feeling so many different feelings at once she didn’t know which one to go with. Betrayed that he hadn’t told her this before, sympathy because it was obvious Draco didn’t want to be involved in his work, ashamed that she’d just jumped to conclusions …
“My father,” Draco went on, “would do anything – anything,” he emphasized the word, “to keep the Malfoy’s reputation with You-Know-Who the best. He’s not going to let anything ruin that, and if he sees anything that gets in the way … he will destroy it. So really, Hermione, I am saying this more for your safety than anyone else’s … that we need to keep this a secret,” he took her hands in his. She did not meet his gaze, and instead kept it locked on the floor. “Well, unless you don’t want to anymore after all that, in which case I wouldn’t blame you because I’d hate to put you in that kind of danger.”
“I’m late for class,” Hermione said, breaking out of Draco’s grip and leaving the Room of Requirement.
A/N: Well, here is the BIG scene, LOL. This was my very first sex scene, haha. So, how'd I do?
Also wanted to give credit to the amazing Margaret Mitchell who wrote Gone with the Wind.
And once again, thanks for all the reviews guys, please remember to leave me one for this chapter before you leave!