Chapter 10 : More Confrontations
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She pounded her pillow in frustration. I need to get my act together, she thought. If I was focused, I would have never let this happen. I let Ron’s letter get to me and as a result, I kissed the first guy I saw. Yes, that was it. By sunrise, Hermione had convinced herself that her response to Malfoy was due to temporary insanity, nothing more.
She was just starting to fall asleep when her alarm went off. Wonderful, she thought. This day has already got some great potential.
Because her mind was so cloudy from lack of sleep, she took extra long to get ready and was thrown off her schedule for the entire day. By the time Transfiguration class approached, she was very nearly running late. As a result, the only seats available were with the smug Parvati & company, or with…Malfoy. She decided the lesser of the two evils was to sit with the girls.
She was wrong. Parvati, Padma, and the other girls peppered her constantly with questions about Malfoy at every opportunity during the entire class. Hermione was as evasive as possible, but Parvati in particular was not going to accept Hermione’s protestations that absolutely nothing was going on. And she was right, Hermione realized. Thank Merlin that no one knew that he kissed me last night! And a softer voice inside her head added…and that I liked it.
Transfiguration finally came to an end; for Hermione it had seemed to last for hours. As she exited the classroom, she passed Malfoy who was leaning against the wall just outside the door. He grabbed the sleeve of her jumper as she passed by, effectively stopping her.
She couldn’t believe that this was happening. Parvati and Padma had actually hung back to watch.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” she muttered.
“Too bad, Granger,” he softly countered, so that only she could hear. “Now if I were you, I’d take the back way to Charms if you don’t want the female population of this class to hear about our snogging session last night.”
Snogging session! She couldn’t believe his audacity. But he had her; it was most definitely something she didn’t want found out. “Fine,” she hissed. “I’ll meet you in the corridor.”
“Right-O.” He let go of her sleeve and glided off down the hall. Hermione waited a minute or two; the girls saw that Hermione wasn’t following him, so they quickly lost interest and headed for Charms.
When they were gone, Hermione headed down the back corridor. I can’t believe I’m doing this, she thought. What could Malfoy possibly want now?
She found out soon enough. He came out of nowhere and pushed her into a nearby broom closet. “Hey!” she gasped. “What do you think you’re—“ And before she could finish, his mouth was on hers. And again, it was wonderful. Before she knew what she was doing, she was kissing him back. Her bookbag fell to the floor and she clung to him tightly as his hands wrapped in her hair and around the small of her back.
She couldn’t think, and moreover, she didn’t want to. All she wanted to do was feel his lips on hers. But she was jolted back to reality as his hand began to slide over her bum.
“Malfoy,” she panted.
“Shut up, Granger.” He pulled her closer to him, his hand still cupping her backside.
“Malfoy,” she began more insistently. Malfoy slipped his tongue into her open mouth and she gasped. Oh, that feels sooo good, she thought, and then she stopped herself. “Draco!” she cried; this had to stop.
Malfoy pulled his head up in surprise. Hermione’s eyes were huge and she was breathing heavily, as was he. “I don’t think you’ve ever called me by my first name before, Granger.” he said in a bemused tone.
Oh, thank Merlin that got him to stop! “Yes, well, neither have you,” she blurted out. She was so embarrassed that she didn’t know what else to say.
“You’re right. My apologies…Hermione,” she felt the gooseflesh rise on her arms as he slipped a hand on either side of her face and pulled her in for a long, soft kiss.
She leaned into the kiss for a minute and then caught herself. Pushing him away, she bent over to pick up her bookbag, anything to keep from looking at him. She felt like her face was on fire. “I’m going to be late for Charms,” she said, swinging the bag over her shoulders and hurrying out the door without a backward glance.
Hermione ran all the way to Charms. She couldn’t believe what she had done and wanted nothing more than to bury her nose in a book and forget everything that had just happened. She burst through the door merely seconds before the class began and collapsed in the seat next to Ginny. She could feel that her face was still burning and she could only imagine what she must look like (Malfoy seemed to have a liking for running his hand through her hair…no, she didn’t want to think about that).
Ginny stared at her with concern. “Are you all right?” she asked Hermione. Hermione hadn’t really talked to her much that day, attributing it to not getting much sleep the night before, but now it looked like Ginny was going to get more persistent.
“I left one of my books back in Transfiguration and had to run back and get it.” She felt terrible about lying to Ginny, but Hermione was really in no condition to discuss this most recent turn of events.
Ginny’s eyes seem to bore into her. “Well…okay,” she said slowly. “But if you need to talk about anything, I’m here for you.”
Hermione clasped Ginny’s wrist in gratitude. “I know. Thanks, Ginny.” They smiled at each other.
Just then, Malfoy slowly sauntered into the classroom with his hands in his pockets, whistling to himself. Arrogant toerag! Hermione thought. Not only is he late, but he has to make a grand entrance as if he’s Merlin’s gift to women. He dropped into a chair, pointedly looked over at Hermione and gave her a wink and she felt her face flare up all over again.
She caught Ginny staring suspiciously at her out of the corner of her eye—she had caught the entire exchange. Uh oh, Hermione thought. It’s going to be tough to explain this one.
Other than that, class was uneventful. Hermione permitted herself to steal one quick glance at Malfoy halfway through the period; he was bent over his notebook, scribbling away with his quill. Hmph, Hermione uncharitably surmised, he’s probably drawing his rendition of Flitwick and McGonagall as the dancing penguins. Then she noticed how his white-blond hair was falling over his brow and how soft it looked…Merlin, what is wrong with me? She quickly looked away and got back to work.
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