[ Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
Chapter 1 : Tarty Tricks
| ||Rating: 15+||Chapter Reviews: 57|
Background: Font color:
Frosty grey eyes turned on her. ‘Do shut up, Granger; you are giving me a headache.’
Hermione growled. ‘That’s not all I will be giving you if you don’t stop this instant!’
An easy, cold chuckle escaped Draco’s mouth. ‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist; I’ll be back before you know it.’
Hermione didn’t know which question or insult to fire at him first. She wanted to tell him that he was in no way allowed to leave her alone in the corridor, that it was his duty to patrol with her at all times, and if they were separated the Headmaster would not be happy. She also wanted to curse him into oblivion for thinking that he could. But instead, what came out of her mouth was, ‘Where are you going?’
‘Away from you,’
Hermione’s brows immediately drew into a glare and she drew her wand. ‘If you leave me here, I will go straight to Dumbledore and ask him to revoke your role as a Prefect.’
Draco chuckled again, the sound echoing throughout the otherwise quiet corridor. He was still walking away form her. ‘I’d like to see you try, Granger.’
‘Watch me, then,’ she snapped, turning on her heel and stomping up the corridor toward the staircases. She was not in the mood for Draco tonight. That day she had already stuffed up her Veritaserum potion, turned her mouse into a kitten instead of a puppy, and had lost ten points for Gryffindor because she threw a fit at Professor Binns when she dropped her History of Magic notes. To put it as lightly as she could, Draco’s arrogance was not exactly the delicious icing atop a disastrous cake.
A short gasp escaped Hermione’s parted lips when Draco suddenly appeared right in front of her, half-concealed in the shadows. She instinctively took a step back, almost tripping over herself in her haste to get away. She clutched her racing heart. ‘You git, Malfoy; you nearly caused me to have a heart attack!’ She breathed, blinking several times.
‘That’s what you get for making hollow threats,’ he muttered, his voice less amused than before, but still hosting an edge of humour nevertheless.
Hermione, having recovered from her shock of him moving so fast, remembered she was angry at him. ‘Who said it was hollow?’ She spat, crossing her arms defiantly across her chest. ‘I had every intention of informing Dumbledore of your little attempt at rebelling.’
Draco cocked his head to the side, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘And how many times have you threatened to “tell on me”, Granger?’
Hermione rolled her eyes at his rhetorical question.
‘Exactly. And how many times have you actually followed through with those –’ he paused, making a face to show he was supposedly counting in his head –‘twenty or so threats?’
She glared at him. ‘Move aside, Malfoy.’
‘And why would I move aside when I know you are going to get Dumbledore to fire me?’
She jerked her head to the side, his smirk suddenly gracing her own features. ‘So you admit that you believe I will tell on you now? Why the change of heart?’ She countered, her tone dripping with smugness.
‘I was speaking hypothetically, of course.’
Draco considered her for a moment, his electrical grey eyes raking over her, regarding her features. Hermione was too triumphant over his silence to feel uncomfortable under his intent gaze, but that soon wore off. She took another instinctive step back and folded her arms across her chest once more, this time self-consciously. There were few times when he would actually stop to stare at her like this. During their patrols, he would avoid her altogether; he would even act as if she weren’t there at times. Sometimes it annoyed her, but not as much as right this moment. She felt like a prisoner under the wrath of his eyes.
Suddenly, even though she had held it before, she realised that Draco had the upper hand now. Her triumphant smirk instantly wiped off her face and she felt completely vulnerable. She looked into his eyes, squinting slightly, disallowing the fear to show in her own. That was exactly what Draco wanted; he wanted her to feel uncomfortable, even scared, and she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing he had succeeded. She finally blinked and turned away, her wand held securely at her side.
‘I won’t ask Dumbledore to strip you of your role if you stay here and help me patrol like you are supposed to.’ She said without looking back, venturing over to her previous position in the middle of the corridor. She leaned against the wall, trying to force some colour back into her face. It was harder than she thought, but she eventually managed to look nonchalant as she stared at the opposite wall, her arms folded in what she hoped would look a casual way.
Draco remained where he was, smirking after her. ‘I told you that you wouldn’t tell.’ He said, a victorious edge to his otherwise equally nonchalant voice.
She didn’t look at him as she replied, ‘I’ve decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. I’d rather put up with your inconsistency than have to put up with your whining because I caused you to be fired.’
Draco snorted, the sound unusually graceful. He took a step toward her and Hermione vigilantly watched him out of the corner of her eye, ready to curse him if he tried anything funny. ‘Try again, Granger.’
Hermione frowned, turning her head to face him straight on, confusion in her expression.
Draco chuckled, the annoyingly familiar laugh flitting through the halls once again as he approached her. Hermione’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. He stopped before her and she shrank further into the wall, clutching her wand tighter between her slender fingers. She wanted to scream, but knew she would be overreacting. Besides, no one would hear her in this corridor; the nearest common-rooms or teachers’ offices were at least two floors both ways. She decided to remain quiet as Draco proceeded to move closer to her, despite their already proximate circumstance.
He placed his hand against the wall, alongside her head. He was so close now that she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. ‘Malfoy,’ she murmured, more afraid than she had ever been in her life.
He leaned in close, his mouth finding her ear. She shut her eyes tight, holding her breath. ‘Granger,’ he whispered, his voice husky and alluring, ‘Have I ever told you how sexy you look when you are angry? Or, better yet, when you are scared as hell?’’
It took a few moments for Hermione to process his words, but once she had, she had leapt at him in an instant, pounding her fists into his chest, screaming at the top of her lungs. ‘You foul git! You creep!’ The insults continued to fly at him as the punches kept coming. It took a second for Draco to grab hold of her wrists and pin her against the wall. He was suddenly angry and this caused Hermione to grow silent once more. She stopped thrashing against him, pressing her lips together, biting down the string of insults she still had coming for him.
‘I would keep my mouth shut if I were you, Granger,’ he muttered, and then the smirk slowly reformed on his mouth. He raised his hand and Hermione flinched, expecting him to slap her, but instead he took a loose curl of her hair and stroked it between his thumb and index finger. She watched him, her breath unsteady, subconsciously thinking of ways she could make a break for it before he became accustomed to having her up against the wall.
He found her eyes again and raked over her expression, licking his lips. ‘Patrolling doesn’t have to be boring. I’m sure there are… certain things we can do to make time pass quickly.’
Hermione growled, baring her straight white teeth. ‘You wish, Malfoy. I will clean all the trophies in the trophy room with a single toothbrush before I ever do certain things with you.’ She spat derisively, disgusted by his suggestion. She felt vulnerable, though she was not about to let this show.
‘That’s just ridiculous. Do you know how many trophies are in the trophy room?’
‘More than enough to keep me away from you.’
Draco laughed without humour. But he stopped instantly, and the smirk disappeared from his face, leaving behind a serious expression she had never witnessed on Draco Malfoy’s face before. She was taken aback, but before she could let this show, she tried, once again, to squirm out of his prison. Draco’s expression instantly returned to normal and he barred her way once again, this time stepping closer. Hermione gasped when she felt the weight of his taut body press against hers. She was now wedged between him and the wall.
‘I like your attitude, Mudblood, but you need to be careful who you use it on. You don’t want to get yourself into a compromising position.’ The corners of his lips twitched.
‘The last thing I need is advice from you. Now get off me at once or I will curse you into the next century.’ She hissed, squirming again. Draco merely pressed himself closer to her, squashing her until the breath was knocked out of her lungs. She struggled to breath, freeing her hands and pushing at his muscular chest. ‘This is unethical, Malfoy!’ She wheezed.
Draco chuckled and gave her leeway once more, though his body still covered hers. He then leaned in and found her ear again, purposely breathing on her to make her stomach flit. ‘It’s only unethical if you don’t want it.’ He pulled his face back and gazed into her eyes, shocking Hermione silent. She pressed her lips together to stop them from quivering. Draco raked over her appearance with his hungry eyes, taking in her womanly curves with an appreciative expression. Hermione was too preoccupied with this sudden change of heart that she forgot to attempt to free herself.
And then it happened before she could stop any of it. Draco pressed his lips hard against hers and she was forced to unclench them, a gasp of shock escaping her covered mouth, her eyes widening. Draco’s hands remained on either side of her head, against the wall, and she watched his closed eyes in surprise. Her first feeling was not disgusted, but, oddly enough, distracted. But she waved it all away and pushed at his chest. ‘Get off me, you creep!’
Draco sniggered. He immediately took hold of her hands and pinned them up against the wall above her head. ‘Granger, the first thing you should know about me is that I always get my way.’ He whispered, trailing his finger down her cheek, over her lips and down to her throat. Ignoring her whimper, he lowered his head to the nape of her neck, where his lips brushed against her creamy skin. Hermione’s cries turned into a moan, a moan she felt disgusted for uttering seconds later.
But she could no longer ignore the mounting feeling of pleasure inside. It took seconds for her to completely comply, and Draco smirked against her neck as she wound her fingers into his short hair, inclining her head sideways to give him easier access. She was far too preoccupied with the satisfaction of his kisses to notice how much this behaviour was unlike her. Another soft moan escaped her lips as he found the sensitive spot she had never known she had.
Draco planted a trail of kisses up her neck, toward her jaw line, his hands releasing her arms and trailing down her body. The halted at her hips, where he pulled her body closer to him, crushing her breasts to his chest. She gave a small whimper, which he stifled with his lips. Without hesitation, he slipped his tongue into her mouth and trailed it along the inside of her lower lip. Her knee wedged itself between his legs, and a low growl emitted from somewhere near the back of his throat.
And that was when the footsteps echoed throughout the hall.
The teenagers split apart at once. Hermione smoothed out her hair and robes, wiping her swollen lips. She breathed heavily, fear in her eyes. She glanced at Draco and couldn’t help but feel resentment toward him when she saw that he looked completely unfazed, and that his robes were tidy, and his lips not swollen. She glared at the fact that he was casually leaning against the wall as if their activities had never taken place.
She focused her attention on Professor McGonagall as the old woman rounded the corner in her night clothes. She carried a lamp, and swung the light onto the two Prefects. ‘Oh, you two are still patrolling. I could have sworn I heard someone moaning up here.’
Hermione heard Draco snigger under his breath and felt her cheeks flush red. She was far too frozen to speak. Instead, Draco took the lead.
‘We were just about to finish, Professor. Granger here was merely complaining about the amount of hours we have to patrol. I told her it was our job, but she, of course, would not listen.’ He said in a perfectly angelic voice.
Hermione’s mouth dropped open and she glared daggers at the Slytherin.
McGonagall clicked her tongue disapprovingly. ‘Miss Granger, you were aware of the responsibilities when you agreed to accept the position as Gryffindor Prefect.’
‘Yes, I know, Professor.’ Hermione replied, more hostile than usual.
McGonagall glanced from her to Draco. ‘Well, I suppose that is enough for the night, anyway. You are both free to return to your respective dormitories for the night,’ she said, clutching her night gown around herself. ‘And do not take any detours this time, Mr Malfoy.’ She added sternly, casting Draco a knowing look. Draco, with nerve, smirked at the Deputy Headmistress. Hermione clenched her teeth together, ashamed of his inappropriate behaviour.
‘As you wish, Professor.’ Draco said smugly. He glanced at Hermione and winked. Hermione felt her cheeks flush red, but she glared at him consequently. She turned away and started off the corridor, ignoring Draco whom fell into stride alongside her, easily keeping up her fast pace with his long, slender legs. Neither of them said a word as they reached the staircase on which they would both part. Hermione would take it up, and Draco would take it down. She didn’t glance back once as she began to climb.
‘Granger?’ Draco called after her. She paused, closed her eyes and inwardly counted to ten before she twirled around to face him, her eyes narrow and dark.
‘What, Malfoy? Got another insult for me? Or perhaps you want to attempt to rape me again? Whatever it is, get it over and done with because I want to go to bed.’ The barricade of profanities were spat out so quickly that she barely registered she had said them. She clutched the guard rail, her knuckles going white, and focused on her breathing. In and out. In and out.
Draco merely chuckled once again, sending another pulse of fury through Hermione, like static electricity. ‘This was fun, Granger. Perhaps tomorrow night’s patrol can be somewhat… similar.’ He raised his eyebrows suggestively, wearing a hungry expression.
Before Hermione could retaliate, however, Draco turned on his heel and the last she saw of his was the whip of his black robes as he rounded the corner.
A/N: OK, so a lot of you have been mentioning that the stories I write are far too depressing. So I decided that I would write a fluffy one, one that didn't end in someone dying or whatnot. So here it is, and I hope that it is all right. I realise I have a few things that I need to correct, so I will get to that very soon. But in the mean time, enjoy!
Other Similar Stories