Chapter 8 : A Sleepy Afair
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Question 3: Explain the metabolic properties of wolf’s bane, and give examples in which they can be used, if legal.
Hmm… what is Snape talking about this time? Metabolic as in metabolism… of wolf’s bane, so then the wolf’s bane must have metabolic properties that increase the metabolism of the consumer so that they become skinnier and more physically fit? But it is also a stimulant so therefore it must be a form of steroid? Hmm that sounds right…
Hermione poured over her potions book in the common room that night. The simple assignment that even Goyle would be able to do was giving her trouble. Maybe it was that her mind was overworked, or maybe it was Draco’s hand caressing her thigh and kissing her neck that was just a wee bit distracting.
“Malfoy, would you please stop that? I’m trying to finish this bloody potions work. I’d like to actually be able to sleep tonight instead of staying up doing this assignment.” Hermione said recoiling from his touch, but then immediately regretting it; missing his warmth. Despite his usual Slytherin-like antics, he was being surprisingly gentle with her at the moment.
“You’re going to be up late anyways Hermione, so you might as well set that parchment aside.” Malfoy stated, reattaching his lips to her soft skin, this time, to her bare shoulder. Of course, it hadn’t always been bare, he had tugged down the collar of her cardigan and granted himself access to her tender flesh.
“Seriously Malfoy, I’m just not up to it tonight. And besides, after that stunt you pulled in potions class today, you should be thankful I’m not hexing your despicable self from here to Hogsmeade.”
“Oh yeah, well you think my ‘despicable self’ is tremendously sexy.” He mumbled into her skin. Hermione’s face contorted in puzzlement.
“And just what does that have to do with me not being in the mood to snog you senseless?” She asked. Malfoy’s silence answered her question, and she slammed her potions book shut, giving up for the night and surrendering to her fatigue. Standing up from the small workspace, she was about to excuse herself and retire to bed when a hand caught her arm.
“Where are you going?” He asked, pulling her into his lap.
“I’m going to bed, please release me.” She struggled against him, trying to make her way to the fluffy, warm bed that she longed to have envelope her tired body.
“You’re not going anywhere without me.” He declared, taking her with him as he stood. Hermione’s delicate arms clung around his neck as he carried her up the stairs. When he passed her doorway, she began to protest once more.
“Malfoy, you missed my room. This is your-”
“Yes, I know it’s my bedroom Granger. What’s your point?” He snapped snidely. Realizing she had none, she kept her mouth shut as he pushed the door open and set her down by the foot of his Slytherin insignia covered bedspread.
Whist he was undressing himself for bed, Hermione perched lightly on the edge of the bed, slowly removing her socks and shoes. Peeking over her shoulder, she saw the toned muscles in Malfoy’s back flex as he peeled off his shirt. Blushing, she looked front again, not wanting to get caught staring, no matter how good the view may have been. She removed her Gryffindor vest, and undid the top two buttons of her blouse, but did not dare to undress further than that. Her skirt and top was enough.
Risking another quick look, she rested her chin on her shoulder and looked at Malfoy, who was now in only his boxers and staring right at her. When he caught her eye, he smirked.
“No need to be modest Granger. That skirt will only be hiked up once you get into bed anyways, and I have a habit of taking shirts off in my sleep, so you might as well ditch the top as well.”
Hermione ignored his comments as she slid between the silky sheets, fully clothed. Already apprehensive about sharing a bed with him in the first place, the last thing she wanted to worry about was whether he would try and take advantage of her scantily clad body if she were to sleep in her knickers.
Slipping in fluidly next to her, he pulled her tight to him and covered her mouth with his own. Her slack mouth was easily pushed open by his tongue, which, much to her shock was very slowly, gently caressing her own. It soon became apparent that Malfoy’s goodnight kisses were considerably tenderer than his regular fierce ones. He pulled back, peering down at her as he held a palm to her cheek. He kissed her lips softly once more before resting his head down on the pillow next to her, a protective arm draped heavily over her stomach holding her in place next to him.
“Good night…Draco.” Hermione barely whispered, her eyelids drooping. Beside her, Draco tensed up slightly upon hearing his first name escape from her full, rosy lips.
I must be a bit delusional from a lack of sleep. He thought. Because I think I just heard her call me Draco.
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