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The Very First Kiss by katiefelton
Chapter 7 : The Very First Kiss
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 72


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Hello readers! sigh again...this chapter should have been up at least two weeks ago. I'll explain at the end, but I think this chapter is worth the wait;)

"Regrets and mistakes, they are memories made. Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?"

-Someone Like You, Adele           
 

           Draco felt Blaise’s stare as he entered the presidential office at the highest floor of the Malfoy and Zabini Enterprises building the following morning. Considering that he was a little later than usual, he anticipated a moody Blaise.

            He didn’t look at Blaise as he fell into the leather chair across his desk, and crossed his hands in his lap.

            “You’re late, Draco.”

            Draco rolled his silver eyes as he gave an exaggerated sigh.

            “Haven’t you already figured out that I prefer to arrive fashionably late?”

            Blaise wasn’t amused.

            “I know that. But today you’re almost three hours late. That’s pushing it.”

            Draco glanced at the clock.

            “Well, it is later than usual, isn’t it?” he muttered with a shrug.

            Blaise shook his head.

            “We have a very full schedule today, and you already missed a morning briefing.”

            Draco grunted.

            “Those aren’t incredibly important.”

            Blaise was growing more agitated by the second.

            “I’m your best mate, Draco. But I also happen to be your business partner, and I have to hold you accountable.”

            He paused.

            “Why were you late?”

            Draco let out a legitimate sigh and he sunk a fraction lower in his seat.

            “I wasn’t feeling well.”

            Blaise rolled his eyes.

            “Well that’s original. I heard that one last week.”

            Draco ran his fingers through his platinum hair as he gazed out through the windows at the morning sun on the Thames. Blaise followed his gaze, and began to eye Draco curiously. Draco’s sarcasm did seem a bit flat today, now that he mentioned it.

            “Draco?”

            No response came.

            “Draco??”

            “Draco?!”

            Draco whipped his head in Blaise’s direction.

            “Sorry,” Draco mumbled under his breath.

            Blaise sighed.

            “And there’s also the matter of yesterday.”

            Draco’s ashen gaze met Blaise’s.

            “What about yesterday?”

            Blaise brought his fingertips together over the bridge of his nose.

            “Well, you never came back to work after you lunch date with your mother.”

            Draco ran his fingers over his eyelids.

            “We had a long talk.”

            Blaise raised an eyebrow.

            “One that lasted five hours?? That seems unlikely, even for your mother. And besides, my mother said she went to a function with all of the ladies yesterday and told me she spoke with Narcissa.”

            Draco sighed again and tightened his eyelids.

            “So, where were you really?”

            There was a minute of silence where Draco began to fidget in his chair, and ran his hand over his forehead. Blaise watched his antics through a narrow gaze, and attempted to figure out what was off about his mate.

            Suddenly, Draco stood and reached for his coat.

            “Look Blaise. You know what this company means to me. Something came up and I don’t need a lecture from you about attendance.”

            Blaise’s brow narrowed in confusion as Draco grabbed his briefcase and began to turn towards the door.

            “I’m taking a sick day. I’m not feeling well.”

            Blaise stood from his seat.

            “Wait, Draco….”

            But he had already turned and exited through the glass door.




            Draco jabbed the blinking lobby button in the gold elevator after he sped inside. Grateful for its emptiness, he let out an angry groan.

            “Damn you, Granger.”

            It was her fault anyway. If she hadn’t gone and gotten herself cursed at the bloody raid, then none of this would be happening.

            When the doors opened, Draco walked through the threshold out into the bustling lobby.

            “Good morning, Mr. Malfoy,” greeted Mr. Kingsworth as he made his way into the elevator.

            “Morning,” Draco quickly responded as they passed.

            Draco paused as he reached the front entrance. He didn’t know where to go. The last place he wanted to be was sitting alone in his empty manor in the middle of the day. And after what happened at his little appearance at St. Mungo’s yesterday, he couldn’t face his mother.

            He was familiar with the chain of high end bars and clubs that his crowd circulated through, but at the moment, he just wanted to be left alone. Draco pressed his mind. After a few moments, he decided on a destination: The Leaky Cauldron. Draco hadn’t been there in years, and figured it would be relatively empty at this time of day.  Having decided where he was headed, Draco pushed his way to the entrance.

            When Draco stood in front of the Leaky Cauldron, he couldn’t believe how little the décor had changed; it was just as he remembered it on his first trip to Diagon Alley. Even though his father would never step foot inside, he remembered surveying the entrance while his father conducted business with another wizard. On one occasion, his mother had taken him through the pub on his way to have his robes tailored. The same weathered cobblestone covered the exterior, and charcoal black shutters covered the tiny windows. Above the narrow door, a rickety sign displaying the Pub’s name swung swiftly with the breezes.  After clearing his throat, he lifted a gloved hand to turn the brass handle.

            He stepped inside the dimly lit pub, and removed his ebony leather gloved from his finger tips as he surveyed the space. There were only a few wizards and witches scattered about, with a few men sitting on barstools, and a few others around tables reading the Daily Prophet, or chatting with their company. The place truly hadn’t changed at all.

            Draco made his way to the bar, and removed his wool coat as he sat down. He felt a bit out of place in his suit, and sensed multiple gazes in his direction. Most were wearing simpleton clothes, while he wore Italian leather loafers, an imported tailored suit, solid silver cufflinks, and platinum rings on his fingers. Draco noticed the bartender was different than Tom, the owner who had served customers in his younger years. He was an older man, maybe in his fifties, and had a small spec of a smile under his weathered face. When he reached Draco, his eyes widened a fraction.

            “Mr. Malfoy? I’m surprised to see you in here. You aren’t a frequent customer.”

            Normally, Draco would have snot some snide remark in his direction, but instead gave him a modest answer.

            “I’m always one for surprises. I thought I’d change it up today.”

            The man nodded.

            “What can I get for you, sir?”

            Draco brought his fingers to his chin.

            “Whatever the standard thing is around here. I’m in the mood for anything.”

            “I’ll come up with something.”

            Draco watched the man leave before he lowered his eyes and began twisting his serpent ring around his finger.

            He knew Blaise was probably furious at the moment, but he couldn’t care less. The last place he ever wanted to be was stuck inside that office. This whole Granger situation was messing with his mind. Draco didn’t feel like himself; he was confused, frustrated, and tormented at the same time.

            “Here sir.”

            Draco nodded a short thanks before taking a sip of the concoction in front of him. He winced at the strength of it as he put it down. In all honesty, he wasn’t even in the mood to drink. Draco placed his head in his hands, and let his mind race on its own.

            “Draco Malfoy? This is the last place I’d expect to find you.”

            Draco turned in the direction of the voice, and realized that his suspicions were correct. Standing beside him was a young, slender woman laced with seductive curves. She had exotic tan skin and jet black waving hair which twisted down her back. A tight crimson dress clung to her svelte frame, and plunged low enough to reveal a small amount of cleavage.

            It was Lucia Magdelina, an acquaintance of his who had also on a few occasions shared his bed. They had met at a Benefit Fuction, and seeing her brother was a chairman of an important corporation they had been introduced. They had hooked up a few times, but Draco never had wanted an exclusive relationship with her.

            “Well, Lucia, I could say the same thing about you.”

            She lowered herself into one of the barstools beside him.

            “What brings you here, Draco?” she asked through dark red lips.

            He ran a hand through his hair.

            “I took a day off today, and decided to try a place I hadn’t been to in a while. This place hasn’t changed a bit.”

            She chuckled.

            “No it hasn’t.”

            “And you, Lucia?” He questioned.

            She flipped her hair with a free hand.

            “I just met a friend here for a few minutes. We hadn’t seen each other for a while and she was in town.”

            She smiled.

            “How are you these days?” Lucia asked as she crossed her slender legs.

            Draco leaned onto his elbows.

            “I’ve been great. Business has been good. And yourself?”

            He watched Lucia roll her brown eyes.

            “My brother is a workaholic. He never stops. Sometimes he can be too intense. But things are going well for us too.”

            She paused.

            “What are you doing later today?”

            Draco shrugged.

            “Nothing at the moment. Anything but work.”

            Lucia leaned forward.

            “My day is also open,” she said with a smile.

            Draco felt her hand on his firm thigh.

            “Since we are both free, why don’t we go to my place, or yours, and find some way to entertain ourselves?” she asked with a smirk.

            Her touch startled him, seeing that he hadn’t been concentrating on her much anyway. Usually, he would have immediately offered his manor, and she would be his source of enjoyment for the night. But something seemed to be holding him back now. Draco took her hand and lifted it from his leg.

            “As much as I enjoy your company, Lucia, I have to decline.”

            Her expression dropped.

            “What do you mean you have to decline, Draco?”

            Draco, sensing her anger tried to shift as far away from her as possible.

            “I’m really not feeling well. That’s why I left work early.”

            He watched her lips pout in his direction.

            “Come on, Draco. We always have a great time.”

            “And I’m not denying that. But right now, I’m not up to it.”

            This was the first time he could ever remember turning down a beautiful girl like Lucia. She was offering pleasure for the evening, and he was rejecting her advances.

            Lucia placed both hands on his arms and leaned inward.

            “Oh please, Draco. Remember how much fun we had last time?....”

            In an instant, Draco pushed her off, and held his hands up in front of him.

            “Please, Lucia. I said no.”

            Her expression went from shocked to agitated.

            “No?! What the hell is wrong with you, Draco?” she spat in a whisper.

            He sighed.

            “I told you. I’m not feeling well. No.”

            Lucia’s eyes narrowed.

            “No one ever turns me down. I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life!”

            Draco’s eyes narrowed.

            “Maybe this is a good start for you. Now you can find a man who can stay with you longer than night….”

            Lucia sprang from her chair, wrapped her polished fingers around Draco’s drink and threw it in his face. In an instant, Draco’s upper half was soaking wet.

            “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!”

            Everyone in the pub was staring at him now, as Lucia snatched her purse and glowered at him through narrowed eyebrows.

            “You bastard. If you ever think I’ll sleep with you again, then you’re downright wrong.”

            Lucia turned quickly on her heels and speed out the door. With a slam, Draco felt the foundation shake a fraction. To his left, the bartender had reached him.

            “Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy?”

            Draco sighed, angrily brushing at the stain on his chest, and grabbed at his wet hair.

            “I really don’t think so.”




            The last time Harry Potter had been to Hogwarts, he had been fighting a battle to save the entire world. He didn’t take the train in, since he had been given clearance to apparate on the grounds beside the lake. For a moment he felt the joy that each school year had brought when his feet had landed on the damp ground.

            Harry had been met and escorted inside by a new professor who he didn’t recognize. They had a bland but polite conversation, and he was obviously hiding his excitement in meeting the savior of the wizarding world. Harry was led past the Great Hall, down multiple corridors, and even up a few flights of stairs until they reached the entrance to Dumbledore’s old office, which now belonged to Professor McGonagall. He thanked the professor and watched his silhouette disappear as he turned a corner at the end of the hall.

            He remembered all of the visits he made to this office over his six years as he pulled McGonagall’s letter from his pocket. In her reply, she had mentioned the password which would take him upward.

            “Lemon Buttercups,” he firmly stated.

            In front of him, the wall began to slide to allow his access, and he stepped on the twisting staircase that would take up upward. When he reached the entrance, Harry stepped forward to gaze into the office. Little had changed since he stood here a few years ago, and had repaired his broken phoenix wand with the Elder wand. The sorting hat still slept on his shelf, the portraits were scattered over the walls, and the pensive stood dormant to his right. From the back of the office, he heard the shuffling of feet before Professor McGonagall emerged.

            “Harry Potter,” she welcomed with a warm smile as she walked toward him with extended arms.

            “Good morning, Professor,” he returned with a grin.

            She placed her arms on his shoulders, and flashed him a smile.

            “It is good to see you. It has been too long.”

            He nodded.

            “It’s good to see you too, Professor.”

            Professor McGonagall gave him another smile before turning to usher him to her desk.

            “When I received your owl I was most saddened with the state of Ms. Granger,” she added before opening one of the top draws to pull out Harry’s letter.

            “I’ve never heard of this curse before. It is foreign to me,” she told him.

            “It’s extremely rare. There are only a few recorded cases in history.”

            She gave him a somber smile.

            “I’m sure you’ve tried everything, haven’t you.”

            Harry nodded.

            “Everything we can think of. But we need answers, answers we don’t have. I figured that this place might be able to give us some.”

            Professor McGonagall’s face lit up.

            “That reminds me. I requested Sir Gimsley to be present in one of the portraits in my office just like you asked. He should be here any moment.”

            “Thank you professor. This may not work, but it’s worth a try.”

            “I agree.”

            She motioned for Harry to follow her to a large painting of a churning river to her right. Just as they arrived, from the left of the frame, a knight riding a horse came into view. He wore golden armor upon his white stallion, and was decorated with various cloth and weapons.

            “It is I, Sir Gimsley at your service, Headmistress,” he announced with a bow.

            “Thank you for your time, Sir Gimsley,” McGonagall thanked as she brought Harry beside her,” I brought you here today because a former student of mine, Harry Potter, is in need of your services to save his friend.”

            Sir Gimsley faced Harry, and bowed once again.

            “Harry Potter, I owe my life to you,” he stated, “I am at your command.”

            Harry smiled as he faced the knight.

            “Don’t mention it.”

            One the knight finished his bow, he began to speak.

            “How can my services save you friend, Mr. Potter?”

            Harry cleared his throat.

            “Sir Gimsley, I need you to round up all the portraits and paintings within Hogwarts, and ask them if anyone ever witnessed Hermione Granger being intimate with a boy during our time at Hogwarts. It’s a shot in the dark, I know, but we might as well try.”

            The knight nodded.

            “She was your best lady friend, am I correct?”

            “Yes. I need you to report back here if you discover any information from the others.”

            He watched Sir Gimsley mount his horse, and tighten on the reins before saluting.

            “Right away, Mr. Potter.”

            Harry watched him turn on his heels, and ride out of the peaceful river scene. He soon felt the Professor’s hand upon his shoulder.

            “A thoughtful idea. Now we must wait.”

            Harry sat across from McGonagall at her desk, and placed his head on one of his hands. He watched the giant brass clock across from him for a while, before shutting his eyelids. He had to face the fact that this probably was going to yield no information, seeing that any situation would have occurred years ago, and some paintings might not even remember that far back. And, if Malfoy did snog her, he wouldn’t have done it with an audience.

            Over the next hour, he heard Professor McGonagall nervously shuffle around her office, sending out owls and explaining Harry’s presence to various headmasters on the walls. He almost drifted off again before he heard a voice sounding from the portrait.

            “Mr. Potter, are you there?” shouted Sir Gimsley.

            “Professor!” Harry called as McGonagall rushed over to the painting.

            Harry shot up from his seat, acknowledged Sir Gimsley patiently waiting upon his horse.

            “Have you found anything?” Harry asked.

            He felt his heart plummet as Sir Gimsley shook his head.

            “No one remembers Ms. Granger snogging any boy during your younger years. Some remember her walking alone with either you or Mr. Weasley, but no one else.”

            Harry composed himself before facing Sir Gimsley.

            “Thank you for trying-“

            “But wait!” Sir Gimsley interrupted.

            Harry’s eyes widened in surprise.

            “There is an old portrait by the name of Marcus Willabee who sits at the end of the main first floor corridor. He says he doesn’t remember ever seeing Ms. Granger being intimate with any boy, but he mentioned a peculiar conversation in which he believes Ms. Granger was involved in during the year where Sirius Black infiltrated Hogwarts. It may be of some interest to you.”

            Harry felt his heart shutter at the mention of his late Godfather.

            “What else did he say?”

            The knight shook his head.

            “He isn’t much for talking. Willabee said he would only mention further details to you in person.”

            Harry nodded to Mcgonagall.

            “I’ll go speak with him.”

            He turned to Gimsley.

            “Thank you so much for your efforts, Sir Gimsley.”

            “It was an honor, sir,” he said with a bow.

            Since McGonagall was meeting with an official from the Ministry in a few minutes, Harry went alone to the first floor corridor. After walking down several flights of stairs, and down various hallways, he began walking past the Great Hall, and to the location of Marcus Willabee’s portrait around the corner.

            His portrait was a decent sized frame that hung in the middle of one of the cobblestone walls beside a few others. He was a plump older man with shoulder-length white hair, and wore a red hat to cover his bald spot. Willabee seemed to be sitting in a cushioned chair, and was snoring on his arm while he slept.

            “Are you Marcus Willabee, sir?” Harry hesitantly asked.

            He watched the portrait’s eyes flutter open as he stretched.

            “Indeed I am. And to whom am I speaking? You interrupted my nap,” he muttered irritably.

            “My name his Harry Potter. And I have a few questions for you.”

            Willabee’s eyes widened at his name and he seemed to observe every inch of Harry.

            “By God. You are the infamous Harry Potter.”

            ‘Yes, I am. Can I please ask you some questions?”

            Willabee still seemed a bit agitated to be woken from his nap, and repositioned himself in his chair.

            “I suppose you may.”

            Harry cleared his throat.

            “Sir Gimsley told me that you remembered a conversation that you think Hermione Granger was in during the year when Sirius Black came into the school, which was our third year. Isn’t that right?”

            Willabee rolled his eyes.

            “Gimsley, the old buffoon. I told him it was probably nothing. And my memory of it is very foggy.”

            Harry held up his hands.

            “That’s fine, sir. Can you please tell me everything you remember?”

            He watched Willabee angrily huff before fussing with his hat to re-cover his balding crown.

            “Alright. But I make no promises.”

            Harry nodded, urging him to go forward. Willabee cleared his throat a few times before continuing.

            “I vaguely remember that it was the year in which that murder Sirius Black broke into the school, because you see, I was terrified that I would end up sliced like the fat Lady for months. It was any regular afternoon, and the students were eating their lunch in the Great Hall like always. I was trying to sleep, you see, but the noise is always a nuisance. Those bloody children yell and shout like a pack of howling wolves, and it was impossible to get any sleep around here. I put in a word with the former headmaster to lower the noise level but…”

            Harry cleared his throat.

            “Do you mind if we stay on topic, Mr. Willabee?”

            Willabee halted mid-sentence, visibly annoyed that Harry had interrupted him.

            “Do you want to hear this, or not?”

            “I do. I’m listening.”

            Willabee coughed before continuing.

             “Anyway, it was any ordinary day, and I was trying to take my nap like always, when I heard shouting from around the corner. It was quite loud and aggressive, and I recall recognizing Ms. Granger’s voice. She had talked with me on occasion, you see, about various subjects after meals. I had never heard her this angry before. She was yelling something about a hippogriff, you see. It was after a few moments that I realized that she was arguing with a male student. He was shouting just as loud as she was. It was a nightmare. I tried yelling at them to hush up, but of course they couldn’t hear me. I was about to yell again, when suddenly the screaming stopped. I feared something had happened to one of them, but they began to talk after a few moments, but this time they were hushed. Then they left. It was as if nothing had happened.”

            Harry sat deep in thought.

            “Did you see what the boy looked like?”

            Willabee shook his head.

            “No I didn’t see him. But I do remember that during the course of their argument, it was mentioned that he was in Slytherin.”

            Harry felt his stomach drop. His mind began to race quickly. Willabee didn’t seem to notice.

            “That’s all I remember. Is that all? I would like to get back to my nap now.”

            Harry shook his head, shaking himself from his thoughts.

            “…Sorry. Thank you for your time, Mr. Willabee.”

            “Good day,” he mumbled before closing his eyes.

            Harry stared at the snoring portrait for a few minutes, before turning on his heels; he walked in a daze, attempting to make it back to McGonagall’s office.

            “Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath.




            When Draco arrived back at his manor, he had had given his coat and blazer to Martin, before heading up to his study to dry out by a crackling fire. When he reached the study, he yanked off his tie, and unbuttoned the top of his white oxford shirt, after throwing the silk tie on the ground. He sped over to the warm fire, and leaned over it, shaking out his hair.

            “That damn Lucia. Ruined my bloody jacket.”

            Draco breathed deeply over the flames, in an attempt to calm himself. He felt he was losing his mind, and this the racing thoughts in his mind were causing his temple to ache. He stood over the fireplace for a few minutes, before turning and lowering himself onto the edge of a cushioned arm chair. Draco sighed deeply as he placed his head in his hands.

            It was killing him. The very thought of it. How could he have let this happen? How the hell did it happen in the first place? He had assumed that he would forget it ever happened, and never tell a single soul. The truth was burning inside of him, shredding his insides.

He had kissed Granger first.

            Draco had trouble even thinking the full sentence. It was murder, acknowledging the fact. It had been an accident in a rage of emotions. The kiss happened so fast, that he didn’t even realize what he was doing.

            It had happened in third year, after he convinced his father to go after that oaf Hagrid’s bloody Hippogriff. Draco had felt her burning eyes upon him in their classes, and across the Hall during meals.  She was hurt and furious. Even recalling the memory sent blades through his chest. But before he could stop himself, the memory of the kiss took over his mind…

            During one afternoon meal, Draco glanced over to the Gryffindor table, grinning when he saw the three members of the golden trio, each upset, and barely eating their food. They were obviously upset about the recent death sentence of Buckbeak the hippogriff, which was mainly due to his father. Potter looked troubled, twirling his fork, and resting his chin in his hands. Weasley on the other hand, was stuffing a chicken leg into his mouth, but his eyes were still somber. Granger startled him. She didn’t look that upset, but instead, she seemed furious. Her eyes were burning with rage, and she was staring in his direction with a murderous gaze. Granger looked as if she was going to kill someone.

            Suddenly, she shot up from her seat, quickly grabbed her belongings, and began to speed out of the Great Hall. Draco anticipated Harry and Ron to follow. Instead, the two glanced in Hermione’s direction, and after recognizing how upset she really was, brought their eyes back to their meal, probably deciding it was best to give her some space.

            Draco felt a smirk spread across his cheeks. Granger would be alone, and she was utterly pissed off. She was in a perfect state for him to antagonize her.

            “I’ll see you both in charms,” Draco muttered to Crabbe and Goyle before confidently stalking down the aisle and out of the wide entrance to the Great Hall.

            Draco saw her storming down the hall. With a devious grin, he followed her with a quick pace. Since he was much taller than her, and had a longer stride, he was gaining on her fast.

            “Granger? What’s got your wand in a knot?” He shot as he approached her.

            She halted in her tracks, and balled her fists before spinning on Draco.

            “Shut it, Malfoy. You don’t want to mess with me today.”

            Draco crossed his arms behind his back, and began to circle her.

            ‘And why not? Are you in a bit of a foul mood?”

            He watched her blood boil beneath her skin. She was obviously attempting to restrain herself.

            “As a matter of fact, I am, which means you should stay clear of me before I turn you into a warty toad.”

            Draco scoffed.

            “I’d love to see that.”

            Hermione narrowed her brow.

            “Stick around, maybe you will.” She threatened.

            Draco smirked before shuffling around her once again.

            “So tell me, Granger. What is bothering you on this lovely morning?.”

            She curled her lip.

            “As a matter of fact, you are,” she snapped.

            Draco mockingly brought a hand to his face.

            “Me? But why?”

            “Because it is all your bloody fault, you tosspot! You are the reason why Buckbeak has been sentenced to death!”

            “Oh come now, Granger, I was protecting the school from a dangerous animal that stupid oaf brought in.”

            Hermione seemed to have snapped.

            “Don’t you DARE talk about Hagrid like that!”

            “You can’t tell me what I can and cannot SAY!”

            Hermione cried out in frustration.

            “You had to exaggerate your arm like a little cry baby after YOU charged Buckbeak like a moron! Then your awful, no good of a father lied and said buckbeak WAS DANGEROUS? He is a HARMLESS hippogriff! Now Hagrid is upset and now a harmless, helpless creature has to die because of your pompous ARSE!

            Draco narrowed his gaze at Hermione, who was almost panting after her rant.

            “Watch you language, mudblood. And watch what you call my father,” he shot with a poisonous tone.

            “DON’T CALL ME THAT!” she yelled.

            “I CAN CALL YOU WHATEVER I WANT!” He screamed in return.

            Hermione shouted in anger.

            “Go away Malfoy! LEAVE ME ALONE!”

            Draco stepped closer.

            “Well, I have some NEWS for you, Granger! This isn’t your BLOODY corridor, and I’ll leave when I WANT to!” he screamed.

            “GO AWAY MALFOY!” she shouted even louder as she closed her eyes in frustration,

            “I’M GOING TO STAY HERE AS LONG AS I WANT! YOU CAN’T ORDER ME AROUND LIKE YOU DO TO WEASELBEAT!”

            He had hit a nerve. Hermione’s cheeks turned red as her eyes burned.

            “DON’T YOU DARE INSULT RON!

            Draco glowered above her.

            “POTTYHEAD ISN’T HERE TO SAVE YOU THIS TIME, ISN’T HE?”

            “FOR YOUR INFORMATION, I CAN HANDLE MYSELF! AND STOP INSULTING HARRY AND RON!” she screamed.

            Draco towered over her, and snarled into her murderous eyes.

            “YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD!”

            She accepted his challenged with her stare.

            “YOU ROTTEN, EVIL SLYTHERIN BRAT!”

            “YOU BUSHY HAIRED, FRECKLED, BOOKWORM!”

            “YOU POMPOUS, NO-GOOD TROLL!”

            “YOU SHOW-OFF, KNOW IT ALL, TEACHER’S PET!”

            “SPOILED, DADDY’S BOY!”

            “STUPID, MUGGLE-BORN TRASH!”

            “ARROGANT, SELFISH, PRAT!’

            “WORTHLESS, NO-NOTHING!”

            “IDIODIC, MORON!

            “DIRTY, TRASH!”

            “RUDE, IMMATURE TOSSPOT!”

            Suddenly, Draco grabbed Hermione by the shoulders, and pushed her against the nearby stone wall. Her eyes were wide in fear, but before she could react, Draco threw his lips upon hers.

            At first she remained rigid in confusion, but after a few moments, loosed her pursed mouth, and responded to his kiss. Draco’s lips were surprisingly soft for such harsh words, and she shuddered as their lips danced together. His mind was blank; he had no idea what he was doing, why he did it, or why he didn’t stop. For once, Hermione’s mind had stopped analyzing, and thinking about every detail. She went along with him, and she had no idea why.

            Just as quickly as it had happened, Draco pushed her off. Hermione grunted at the force of his push.

            They stood staring at each other in utter silence. Their eyes were locked in some sort of trance, and each was attempting to understand what had just happened. Hermione head Draco’s chest heaving as his eyes bore into hers, and she felt her heart fluttering under her robes.

            After remaining like this for a few minutes, Hermione shook her head as her eyes widened, attempting to shake off her thoughts.

            “Well, that was interesting…” she muttered to herself.

            Draco remained rigid, as the realization of what he had just done spread through his veins.

            “….Interesting,” he mumbled under his breath.

            Hermione stared past him at the stone wall opposite her, while bringing a few fingertips to her lips.

            “That was my very first kiss,” she said in a hushed whisper.

            Her words circulated through his body like ice.

            “Me too,” he somewhat responded.

            After a few moments like this once again, Hermione suddenly shook her head in an attempt to compose herself.

            “You better not tell anyone about this, Malfoy,” she shot.

            Draco was startled at the harshness of her tone. He then narrowed his eyes in response.

            “You listen, Granger. If anyone finds out about this, things are going to get nasty.”

            She wasn’t startled.

            “Tell me this, Malfoy. Do you plan on having children?”

            Draco’s eyes widened.

            “What?!”

            “Do you?!”

            “…well…yes…but…”

            “Well then. If you tell anyone about what just happened, don’t count on reproducing in the future.”

            He pursed his lips, partially in fear, because she was probably capable of doing that.

            “I won’t say anything. Nothing happened. Forget about it.”

            Hermione seemed to accept this.

            “Me either. Not a word.”

            He glanced at her one last time before turning on his heels, and sped back to his dormitory. Hermione watched him disappear for a few moments, before turning and beginning her walk to her own common room. She shook her head, attempting to move on from the previous moment.

            Before Draco rounded the corner, he whipped his head one last time in her direction, but Granger was gone…

            Draco stared intensely into the fire as the memory faded back into his mind. He sighed as he lowered his head into his hands.

            ‘What the hell am I going to do now…..”
 

Yayy! Now we finally know how the first kiss happened:) Thoughts?? Hmm Draco has some very big decisions to make...will he kiss Hermione? or will his Malfoy pride get in the way?

So as for the chapter taking forever to get up, i've been just as frustrated as you are. Like I said earlier, this should have been up at least two weeks ago. As you all know, this wonderful site experienced some problems, which delayed things. And maybe I was being paranoid, but I didn't know if this chapter was safe in the queue or not. At the risk of losing this entire story, I decided to delete the chapter from the queue. The bad news was was I went on vacation the same day, and the queue was still closed for submissions. When it re-opened, I was gone and computerless:( It's probably good that I went on vacation when I did, b/c I was so frustrated for you all. I just wanted you to read it the moment I wrote it, and it's taking much longer than I wanted. So I am very sorry about the long wait:(

Anyways, this should hopefully be up soon! I love all of you, and your support for this story is beyond SPECTACULAR. I'm blown away by your support and feedback!

Please review! It only takes a few, tiny, microscopic seconds:)

Until chapter 8,

-Katie:)


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