Hermione raced to her chamber door, arm extended, wand straight out before her. “Diffindo!” Once through the opening, she locked it behind her. There were no afternoon classes due to the dance lessons and she was thankful for that. Her head was pounding and she was trying to push away the knowledge of what Draco had told her. She desperately tried to forget how good it felt to be touched by him, to feel his lips on hers. Hermione decided to have a lie down on the sofa for a bit with a cool cloth on her throbbing head. She made herself a strong calming tonic and magicked soothing classical music to flood the room.
Tearing off her professor robes and stiff woolen skirt, she staggered to her bedroom. She peeled off her blouse and under clothes and pulled on pink satin sleep shorts and a white tank. She then returned to the sofa where the steaming tonic hovered, waiting for her to clasp it from midair.
Hermione sighed deeply, sinking back into the overstuffed cushions, letting the tonic work its magic; sleep came to her almost instantly.
Several hours later, Hermione was jarred to semi-consciousness by a tapping sound. A knocking sound broke through the misty fog of her drowsy mind.
What is that? She thought groggily.
She stumbled forward and threw the door wide without even asking who was there, still fighting for full lucidity.
The sight before her fixed that quickly. Her mind snapped to attention, her wide, intelligent brown eyes flashed and her voice seized in her throat.
“May I come in?” His smooth voice was deep and low. Draco stood on her door stead looking fantastic in head to toe black. He tossed his head a bit and his long blond fringe fell casually to the side revealing his dark gray eyes. They were aflame. His appreciative gaze swept down her body, lingering on her curves, clearly visible through the thin white tank. Her bare thighs were exposed below the pink satin shorts.
Hermione stepped aside letting him enter and closed the door. She realized quickly her suite was barren of illumination, save for a sliver of bright moonlight shining in from the sitting room window and the dying embers glowing on the hearth. She also realized she did not have her wand to the light the room. The two stood in semi-darkness as the music of Chopin’s Prelude in C minor swelled to crescendo.
Finally, Hermione found her voice. “I was resting; here, let me get my wand…”
She moved forward and brushed against his chest. Draco’s strong arm came round her; his hand ran up her bare arm. “Hermione…” he murmured into her hair, his voice breaking. He inhaled her fragrance which reminded him somewhat of apple blossoms. Whatever it was, it made him swoon.
She felt a shudder run through her to her core. Powerless against his caress, desire ignited within her, like a wildfire. If she continued to let him touch her, all would be lost. She would be lost. Lost in the sea of his silken caresses, his inexorable kisses; drowning in the heat which engulfed her whenever he was near. With an almost agonizing effort, she withdrew and slipped away to fetch her wand.
“What time is it?” she said loudly from her bed chamber as she collected her wand from the bureau. Her hand flew to her hair. Thinking it must look atrocious, she tapped her wand to her head turning the frizzles to smooth waves. She conjured a hair tie and pulled her thick mane into a high, loose ponytail then joined Draco in her sitting room.
Returning, she gave it a flick shedding a soft light on her sitting room. The luminescence flew from her wand tip to the sconces that flanked the tall window. The silver-blue flames danced upon the beveled glass of the turret, casting small twinkles of light much like a crystal chandelier. She did not mean to create so romantic an effect.
“It’s 9 o’clock.” Draco replied quietly. “I haven’t seen you all afternoon. I was beginning to worry…”
They stood, considering one another as the last somber notes of the music died out. Hermione muttered, “Finite”. The music ceased, leaving them in complete stillness.
“Draco-” she began but he cut across her words like a knife.
“Tell me you don’t want me.” he demanded, his eyes imploring. “Tell me you don’t want me in your life and I’ll leave Hogwarts. I’ll disappear for good this time.”
Hermione hugged her arms round herself and turned from him. In a small voice she uttered, “That would probably be best…”
Furious, Draco strode to her spinning her roughly toward him, passion flashing in his stormy gray eyes. “Damn you, Hermione! Say the words to my face. Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me not to touch you, to kiss you…to love you.” He was shaking in anger at how easily she had accepted the thought of him leaving.
She looked fearful- so much so, that Draco softened his vice-like grip on her arms and she trembled beneath his grasp. He slowly lifted a hand to her face as silent tears spilled down her cheeks. He brushed the back of his fingers along her jaw, down her neck to her collar bone with tenderness in his touch. Closing her eyes, she soaked in the feel of his hands on her bare skin. His slender fingers continued to travel down, delicately brushing against the fullness of her breast.
“Tell me…” he whispered. “Tell me you want me.”
“I do...” she exhaled, almost inaudibly. It was bliss; his touch, his hot breath on her forehead. She wanted his lips to take hers.
“Tell me you love me.”
“I- I…can’t.” She tried to draw away, but Draco held her fast. He dipped his head brushing his soft full lips against her neck as he cupped her breast and made tiny circles at the apex with his thumb.
A moan formed deep within Hermione as burning heat flooded her body. His hand descended to her waist and slipped under her shirt to continue his caress skin to skin. She gasped at this intimacy and arched toward him in acceptance of what he offered. His mouth worked its way up her jaw to her cheek then he drew back to find her eyes dark and glazed with desire.
“I love you, Hermione. I want to hold you. I want to be your only one…the only one to touch you like this. The only one to have you...” His lips took her mouth, more insistent this time and she sensed the need behind this kiss.
His skillful strokes made her purr with delight. She felt dizzy at his intoxicating touch, his ardent scent, his words everything she wanted to hear. He pressed his body closer still and she felt his excitement hard against her upper thigh. It startled her and brought her back to herself.
She had only ever been with one other man. That man was Ron Weasley and he had broken her heart. She had given him everything and he had thrown it back in her face when he cheated with Lavender. It terrified her to think of letting someone in that close again. And she still had so many questions about Draco It also terrified her feel so free and out of control when she was intimate with him. She had never felt wanton desire to such intensity as she did when Draco touched her.
Pushing lightly on his chest, she murmured, “Please, let me go.”
“You’re asking me something I couldn’t possibly do…” his lips moved against hers as he spoke.
Hermione pushed harder. “You must. Please...”
He immediately did as she asked.
“Can we…can we talk about this?” she asked quietly, searching his face.
“Of course.” Draco gave a small forced smile. He looked tormented as he let go of her.
“You can’t touch me.” she warned, knowing if he did, it would be her undoing.
Draco smiled his cheekiest smile, the one he gave only to her. “Agreed,” he said slowly. “Only if you ask me to.”
“Let’s sit.” She motioned to the lounge and went to retrieve her red satin dressing gown to throw over her barley there bed clothes.
When she returned he was sitting forward on her flowery sofa, hands clasped in front of him, elbows propped on his knees. She had the sudden urge to throw caution to the wind and pounce on him…and kiss him all she wanted, to let him take her as far as he wanted.
“My, but you’re fetching.” He drawled, with his wry smile.
He was so incredibly fetching to her as well, but what she found most alluring was his heart. He had shown it to her again and again; he was plainly trying to give it to her now. Yet she was the one hesitating. She eased down next to him tucking her feet beneath her, feeling exhausted.
“On second thought,” she said, “I really don’t feel that much like talking.”
“Fantastic.” He raised his eyebrows and grinned, moving closer.
“No. I don’t mean it in that way.” She tried to hide her own smile.
Draco sat back and draped his arm across the back of the sofa. “Well, darling, we won’t talk and I can’t touch you…shall we sit here and stare at one another all evening?”
“Listen, Draco, if all you want is a shag-”
“Listen, Hermione, if all I wanted was a shag, Patil is down the way pining for me as we speak.”
She rolled her eyes. “And you know this from past experience?”
Draco sighed in frustration; he wanted to keep the mood light. “I’m here with you. I want to be with you. Really, I thought you were a clever girl?”
“How about a drink then? Fire whiskey okay?”
She rose and Draco watched her pad to the liquor cabinet in her bare feet, pink polish on her toes. His eyes traveled up her defined calves to the delicate place behind her knees and at last to her shapely bottom swaying beneath red satin.
All he could think of was how much he wanted to touch and explore her body with his hands, with his mouth. But he would wait. He would wait for her as long as it took.
As she turned and walked toward him, his eyes glided up the rest of her to her face. It was drawn and tired but still held the flush of arousal on her cheeks and lips. She handed him his drink and their fingers brushed. One little touch, one immense spark.
“You know,” he joked, “you don’t have to get me drunk to take advantage of me. I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly willing.” He took a generous swig of whiskey and set the drink down.
“You’re perfectly daft, you are.” she joked back.
“Yes, I’m beginning to think I am.” His hand that was draped on the couch near her head reached up to tousle the curly cascade of her pony tail.
“I said ‘you can’t touch me’, she teased.
“Come on, your hair doesn’t count,” he replied, twisting it round his fingers.
Hermione batted his hand and he caught hers in his. His playful look was gone, replaced by a deadly serious one.
“Hermione, don’t torment me so.” With that, Draco pulled her hand to his mouth and she felt his lips give against her knuckles. She moved closer and he kissed her fingers, letting his tongue dart out to swirl round the tip of each. She watched him and his eyes never left hers. He pressed her palm to his mouth, flicking his tongue once and then released his grip.
Hermione shuddered and set her drink down. Turning toward him she crawled like a cat, into his lap, straddling him. She ran her splayed palms up his chest to his shoulders and into his hair. Draco gripped the edge of the sofa to brace himself as she raked her lips across his. Hermione pulled back, breathing hard, as Draco stared at her with shock and excitement in his eyes. She nuzzled his nose with her own, and then nibbled playfully on his lower lip.
“I’d like for you to touch me now.”
She did not have to tell him twice. His hands were on her, sliding up her back to her neck; plunging into her hair, pulling her mouth down on his. He groaned in ecstasy, while his kisses vacillated between hard and urgent, light and tender.
“Say it again.” She demanded in a breathy whisper, breaking the kiss to look into his face.
“Say what again? Don’t torment me?” He exhaled, as breathless as she.
“No,” she cooed, bestowing tiny kissing nibbles on his lips “Tell me… what you told me… after we danced.”
His eyes searched hers, so bright and intelligent. She was looking for any trace of doubt, any hint that told her he was not sincere.
“Hermione…” He took her face in his hands. “I love you; you know I do…why is it so hard for you to believe?” What can I do to prove it to you? Give me a chance, let me show you.”
His eyes fell upon her lips as her wrapped her in his embrace. Slowly, he kissed her, coaxing her tongue out to meet his, drawing her in deeper with every swirl of his tongue. Her mind was spinning. Time and space lost meaning. All she knew were Draco’s arms holding her and a burning heat rising in her like none she’d ever known. She could feel his firmness against the flimsy satin of her pajama bottoms and she instinctively rocked her hips, pushing her more delicate parts against him. A low needful growl tickled her ear as Draco tightened his grip on her and returned her gesture.
She knew if they didn’t stop now, they would fulfill there need at last. Most of her wanted just that, but part of her was afraid. She just wasn’t ready yet.
He continued kissing her, tugging at the hem of her tank top. “Take this off. I want to see you …”
“Draco, you said you’d do anything to prove it to me.”
“Oh yeah,” he breathed between kisses. “I’d do anything for you, Granger.”
“Then stay here with me tonight.” She squeezed her thighs against him, running her fingers in feathery strokes up the back of his neck.
Draco was speechless. He closed his eyes enjoying the feel of her caress, feeling as if he were about to burst.
Hermione began to feel back in control again. It was her downfall; she always had to be in control. “Will you? Stay with me tonight? But just sleep, no sex. Could you just hold me? I want to keep taking things slowly. I need to.
Draco exhaled a great breath and bit his lower lip. He felt as if someone had smacked him.
Am I missing something, he though as he struggled to gear down. “Are you sure you’ll be able to control yourself, Granger?” He gave her bum a squeeze and grinned wolfishly.
“Oh, its back to ‘Granger’ is it? For your information, Yes. I think I can hold myself back, Malfoy.” She shot him a glare reminiscent of their school days. “You are so full of yourself.”
“Actually, I thought the general idea was for you to be full of myself.”
“Uh!” Hermione gasped and punched his shoulder. He grabbed her arms as he stood and tossed her down onto the sofa suspending himself inches above her supine frame. He stared at her with hard, stormy eyes.
“Alright. I’ll stay. No sex. Do you really think that’s all I want from you?”
Draco stood, leaving her lying there, breathless and quivering. He had a pained look about him and Hermione suddenly felt foolish. She didn’t mean to play games, yet here she was toying with Draco, punishing him for the sins another man had committed against her.
He turned back to her and held his hand out. “Come here.”
She obeyed. Placing her hand in his felt good, like the night at the Three Broomsticks when he had led her through a crowed room to the bar. Now, tonight, it was just the two of them. Draco placed her arms round his waist. He wrapped his arms round her and rested his head in her hair inhaling deeply. “You smell like a flower…like apple blossoms.”
Hermione gave a tiny laugh. “You smell like the woods… in the morning, and spice.. and leather-”
He kissed her on the mouth lightly and said, “I want you to listen- this comes from my heart.” He held her tightly, his cheek brushing the side of her forehead and began to sway.
“When the rain is blowing in your face and the whole world is on your case I could offer you a warm embrace… to make you feel my love.”
She froze inside. Was he actually singing to her? Oh Merlin, she thought. His voice seemed to fill her soul; it was so sexy and beautiful. She had never imagined he had such a lovely singing voice. So full of longing and emotion…
“When evening shadows and the stars appear and there is no one to dry your tears I could hold you for a million years… to make you feel my love.” He stroked her back making little circles with his fingers here and there. Hermione’s face crumpled as tears sprang to her eyes. His voice had cracked with emotion when he sang about holding her.
He placed his palms on her cheeks and lifted her face, capturing her eyes with his piercing gaze. “I know you haven't made your mind up yet, but I would never do you wrong. I've known it from the moment that we met…there's no doubt in my mind where you belong.”
Putting his arms round her once again, he continued his serenade and she held onto him as if she’d never let go, her eyes brimming with tears.
“I could make you happy, make your dreams come true…there is nothing that I wouldn't do. Go to the ends of the earth for you…to make you feel my love.”
They swayed for awhile longer and then he spoke. “Hermione, if you want to wait, I’ll wait. If you want me to stay and just hold you. I will. I want to. Because I love you and nothing will change that. When we make love, it’s not some goal to be attained or some level to reach in a relationship. It’s an expression of love. I want to make love with you to show how much I love you, to be as close to you as I can possibly be. But not until you want it too.”
She closed her eyes and the tears fell off her dark lashes like dew off a petal.
“Look at me,” he breathed. She did as he said. “I won’t break your heart.”
Hermione took a step back catching his hand in hers and led him to her bed chamber.
“Very girly.” Draco took in the petal pink and chocolate surroundings.
“Yes, in case you haven’t noticed, I am a girl.”
“Oh, you, my lady, are a woman…a fine one at that. By the way,” Draco chimed, stripping to his boxers, “…you should know, I sleep in the nude.”
Hermione gapped at him. He was…beautiful. His smooth hard chest descended into toned abs, his navel was surrounded by a light tuft of fine blonde hair that trailed down below his waistband which he was slowly tugging down.
“Not tonight you don’t.” she almost begged, eyeing the waistband with trepidation.
“It’s really more comfortable,” he persisted. “You should try it. Why not make it more challenging for me, Granger? Get naked with me…and still, no sex. I promise.”
He removed his boxers and tossed them across the room with flourish.
Her eyes roved every inch of his magnificent form. Mmm, she thought. Then Luna’s voice popped into her head; Yummy. Hermione burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it.
Draco eyed her suspiciously. “Well, I’ve never quite received that reaction before.” He slid under the covers of her pink and chocolate duvet. Hermione was hysterical.
“Shut it, will you.” And he threw a pillow at her. She batted it away, trying to contain her squeals.
Draco narrowed his gaze and laced his hands behind his head. “Okay, Little Miss Perfect. Let’s see what you’ve been hiding under the layers of robes you wear.”
She was no longer laughing, but staring at Draco who was reclined comfortably in her bed looking quite delectable.
“Go on then, get on with it.” He smirked famously.
Pressing her lips together, she ran her tongue over them deciding what to do. What was she thinking asking him to stay the night? And letting him crawl naked into her bed?
“Well?” Draco was not letting her off the hook. He fully expected her to collect his boxers, throw them at him, and tell him to get dressed while she turned away and he did as she asked.
Oh what the hell. Hermione pulled off her bottoms, peeled off her top and swiftly as should could, sprang into the bed and under the covers.
For an instant, Draco was stunned but he quickly regained his senses. “That’s it? No strip tease?” he chuckled.
Hermione rolled her eyes and rolled away from him, pulling the covers up to her chin. Draco gazed over at her silky hair fanning out on the pink pillowcase, the slight curve of her hip rising under the covers. Her bedchamber smelled deliciously feminine and florally. He sidled up behind her, draping his arm over her ribcage.
She felt his warm breath at her neck, his body heat permeating the cool sheets and desire rose in the core of her.
“Yes, definitely apple blossoms…goodnight, Hermione.” he murmured.
A/N: again I want to thank all the people who are following my story. Thank you for all the reviews. I love to know what you think. You keep me inspired! Don’t for get to leave me a review. thanks!
the song lyrics used in this chapter are from ‘to make you feel my love’ by the incredible Bob Dylan