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Snowbound	By : TempestLore Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 4303 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not own anything in the Harry Potter fandom and I make no money in writing this work of fanfiction. Only the plot is my own.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
*Setting-Alternate sixth year.
Author's Note-It's been ages since I've written a Dramione. I used to write under penname JennyPenny. If you remember me and if you happen to have a copy of The Master and The Mudblood, Dirty Deeds in the Dead of Night,The Third Wheel,Merlin's Coven or the Broomsticks Saga (6 in all) please contact me. I lost those stories in a computer crash and silly me deleted most of them from this site and other sites where I had uploaded them. I would love to get those back especially The Master and the Mudblood and the last Broomsticks story that was still a WIP. This story DOES have a plot which I will get into in future chapters. This story will be a Romance with sexual content, philosophical debates between characters and some surprising new and so far as I have read, never been done before ideas that will come to light throughout the story. (I hope lol)
Snowbound
Chapter One
The Tent
     I shouldn’t have closed my eyes when I cast the spell, but it’s like they say, hindsight is twenty, twenty. In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have used the Bombarda spell either, not when a simple Finite Incantatem would have worked just as well, better even. How was I supposed to know that the whole front end of the caboose and part of the track would be blown to bits? I think fast on my feet and this was no different. I did what I had to in order to save Harry from Malfoy. Period. No, if this was anyone’s fault it was his not mine.
     I was suddenly drawn from my thoughts when the broom dipped sharply and then we were plunging towards the snow blanketed ground.
     “Malfoy, pull up!” I screamed but my blood ran cold when I felt the blond’s body sag against me, his head falling back onto my shoulder. He was out cold. “Merlin, I can’t fly. Malfoy, wake up!” That seemed to do it and he roused and steadied the broom but it was almost too late as my shoes hit the tops of the tree branches as we careened through the forest.
     “Must have hit my head harder than I thought back at the train,” Malfoy called back to me as he hastily prepared to land us. “Going to be a hard landing,” he shouted.
     “Why? Just land us properly,” I chastised.
     “Can’t. I’m seeing double of everything.”
     “Merlin, this is bad!” I called out from my perch behind him on the broom. That was the last thing I managed to utter before we both tumbled head over feet, falling from the broom. I moaned as I climbed to my feet. My body was already beaten and bruised from the previous accident, but Malfoy, well, Draco was not moving at all. I quickly became worried. “Mal—Draco, wake up?” I said and I shook him by the shoulders. It was no use though, he was out like a light. The wind was blowing hard and the sun dipped below the horizon bringing with it the cold, lonely feel of darkness. That’s when a minor panic set in. It was starting to rain. Rain, not snow like Malfoy had earlier predicted. Although, I wish it had been snow because my clothes were already soggy and with the temperature dropping hypothermia was a certainty. “Malfoy, you have to wake up!” I shook him again and this time his eyes popped open.
     “Start a fire, it’s bloody cold,” he said as he groggily sat up and then promptly began to shiver.
     “No wands, remember? We lost them when the…” I broke off my words, not wanting to rehash the previous events, events that the blond was sure to blame on me. Events that left us in the predicament that we currently found ourselves in.
     “When you cast that stupid spell and blew up the carriage we were in?” I cringed when he said it.
     “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m even alive,” he said rudely. “Bombarda, what were you even thinking Granger?” he asked.
     “You’re the one who cast an Unforgiveable at Harry. He was already disarmed! It wasn’t fair,” I fired back and then I steadied myself against the trunk of a tree when an overwhelming sensation of being dizzy myself threatened to drop me. I felt a small trickle of blood roll down my face, probably from the small cut on my cheek and I wiped it away with the back of my hand.
     “That’s typically what happens when dueling,” he quipped as he climbed to his feet and brushed the snow off his expensive men’s trench coat. “Even a first year would know that. I should have been killed.” He was right about that but then I should have been killed as well. It was a small miracle that neither of us had perished when our car was separated from the train and it jumped the tracks. If the barrel rolls down the steep ravine didn’t kill us then being ejected from the steel car and tossed about the landscape like rag dolls should have. Yet, here we were. Merlin knows where exactly here was, probably somewhere in the Scottish countryside was my best guess. It wasn’t much of a guess but it’s all I had to go on. After the car we were in derailed, Malfoy claimed that he knew the way back to Hogwarts and since his broom had miraculously made it through the crash, I climbed onto the back of it and held on for dear life. It was that or spend the night alone in the dense, dark forest.
     “You may have to help me steer, I’m still seeing double,” he said as he bent and reached for the broom handle that was half buried in snow.
     “I can’t fly,” I said under my breath.
     “What Mudblood?”
     “Don’t call me that name,” I replied bitterly.
     “Eh, I’m too tired to think of a nasty comeback, Mudblood,” he said and I could practically feel his smirk even though his back was to me.
     “We’ll figure it out. Let’s just get a move on. We still might be able to make it to the start of the year feast in the Great Hall. Now I know that I lost my wand, but were you lying about losing yours, because a simple warming charm right about now would—“
     “We’re not going anywhere, not tonight,” Malfoy stated flatly.
     “What?” My eyebrows flew up.
     “That’s right. We’re staying right here, at least until daylight.”
     “Here? No, look,” I said reaching out and squeezing his pale hand. He stared at my friendly gesture and I pulled my hand back as if a snake had bitten it. “I will help you steer the broom. I’m not a good flyer and I’m really sorry that you probably have a concussion, but our best bet is to keep going, to push on—“
     “Can you fly this, because I can’t?” he said and he held the broom up for me to see. It was in two pieces. My mood sagged. We both just stood there silently for a moment, contemplating our circumstances.
     “Draco, do you have your wand?”
     “No, I told you that I lost it in the wreckage. What, you think I’m lying? Fuck, Granger I’d have apparrated the hell out here ten minutes ago if I had a wand.”
     “Alright, alright, sorry I asked. Well, we are in a little bit of luck. I have a tent. I carry it with me wherever I go.”
     “A tent? Is that some odd Muggle thing to do?” he asked innocently.
     “No, it’s just that Harry, Ron and I never know when we might have to bolt what with so many Death Eaters on the loose.” I peered at him when I said that and I grew angry when I saw Malfoy smile at the mention of Death Eaters.
     “Are you asking me to sleep over? With you?” Malfoy asked. I hated the arrogance behind his words. What did he think that I was going to offer him a formal invitation to share my tent with me in order to not die in the freezing cold? Just then I saw the first snowflakes as they hovered in the air between us.
     “I told you it was going to snow,” he said and I rolled my eyes.
     “Yeah well even a broken clock is right once a day,” I replied as I set about in search of a large enough clearing in order to erect the tent.
     “Is this a Muggle tent or a Wizards tent?” he asked as I retrieved the shrunken down tent from my satchel purse that I wore draped around my middle.
     “It’s a magical tent,” I said and then I dropped it onto a bare spot on the forest floor and we both watched as it erected itself. When it was finished, Malfoy held his hand out signaling to me that I should enter first. He had a suspicious expression to which I just ignored as I entered the tent.
~~~~~~~0~~~~~~~~
     “It’s not bad. It could be worse I suppose, not much but…. A bit rustic for my taste.”
     “It will have to do, that, or you can sleep out in the cold,” I said as I started in search of a book of matches. I never used the darn things anymore, not since I had a wand. “Help me look for matches. There is a small supply of food in here, but it’s useless without a fire.”
     “Yeah, it’s bloody cold,” he said as he blew into his pale hands. “I think I just need to lie down for a bit,” the blond said and then he nearly collapsed as he staggered towards one of the cots within the tent. If I didn’t know better I’d swear that he was pulling a fast one on me in order to get out of doing any work at all, but the oozing head wound on his forehead told another story. He was paler than usual too. He passed out cold almost missing the cot altogether. I struggled to lift him onto the bed but when I finally managed it I covered him up and propped his head up on a pillow. I knew that in his condition sleep was probably a bad idea, but I had to start a fire so I left him in search of matches.
     “Damn it! I know they’re here somewhere,” I said after fifteen minutes of fruitless searching. We had a roof over our heads and the biting wind was not chomping at our exposed flesh and yet it was still bloody freezing. I cursed myself for losing my wand, over and over again.
     “It’s c-c-cold,” Malfoy said weakly when he came to.
     “Yeah I know, it’s just, I have no light and in the dark I can’t find the matches. I put what blankets I have over you.”
     “You have to lay with me,” he said in a matter of fact tone.
     “I will not,” I bit back.
     “Body heat,” was all he managed to say before he nodded off again. Damn him he was right too. Well I got the saying wrong anyways, a broken clock is right twice day, not just once. With great reluctance I shucked my parka and climbed into bed. With Malfoy.
~~~~~~~~0~~~~~~~~
     I tried my best to keep him awake, and strangely enough I found myself liking “Concussion Malfoy,” much better than the regular variety Malfoy. I actually learned a few shocking things about the mini Death Eater in training, namely that he doesn’t like most of his Slytherin bunk mates and that he hates nearly all of the classes offered at Hogwarts. That was surprising considering that he kept decent grades. Potions was his most challenging class and despite what the rest of the student body thought, Professor Snape graded him extra hard (according to him)not easier as we all suspected. Defense Against the Dark Arts was a “joke” and it was widely laughed at by all the “in” crowd of Dark Arts aficionados. According to him they (meaning those who practiced the Dark Arts) had ancient old curses and hexes that the textbooks never mentioned, his reasoning as to why they were left out of the text books was because there were no known counter curses to block or disarm their dastardly effects. In other words the whole class was a lie, one to cover up the truth that the Dark Arts reigned supreme over lighter forms of magic. That miffed me a bit because that was the one class that I paid the most attention to, out of necessity of course. Eventually though, the conversation dried up and the yawns took over.
     When I awoke just before dawn I was shocked to find myself curled up around Malfoy, just as I would with a good book. I jerked away, turned my back to him and fell back to sleep only to be awakened an hour later when Draco’s arm flopped over me. I lay there quite still as I adjusted to the feeling of being spooned by Malfoy. For all of his obnoxiousness and cruelty I found out another interesting fact about Draco Malfoy, my arch nemesis and that was that his core body temperature at rest was much higher than my own. He heated up like an oven when he slept. I was absolutely toasty lying next to Malfoy, so logically it made sense to stay put since it still was not light outside and matches were still in nonexistent supply.
     Have you ever had the feeling of being watched? Well I have and even before I opened my eyes I knew that the blond was staring at me. I took a deep breath and slowly opened my eyes. A centimeter is how close our noses were, so close that they were almost touching. I found myself staring into cold, gray eyes, except that they weren’t cold. Something about his inquisitive stare was warmer than before. Feeling unnerved I turned my eyes downward and then slowly began to move away, that is until I felt his grip on me tighten. His arms were wound around my back and he stopped me when I tried to pry myself away from his grip. “Don’t.”
     “Why not?” I asked.
     “Because I’m sore and if you move it’s going to hurt. A lot,” he said and he pulled me back towards him. Feeling entirely uneasy and not really wanting to gaze into his eyes anymore I laid my head down on his chest. At least I didn’t have to look at him in that position. I could have sworn that I heard him murmur an almost incoherent word of thanks. That’s when I felt his finger gently in my hair. I froze. He continued to twirl his finger in my wavy, curls an act that whether conscious or not seemed natural and normal, even if it was crossing several invisible boundaries. Hell, laying in a bed with Malfoy, if even for warmth was crossing all sorts of boundaries.
     “Malfoy, I—“
     “It’s snowing outside still. There’s already a meter on the ground and it doesn’t look to be letting up.”
     “Ah, that’s bad news,” I whispered.
     “Indeed,” he said in agreement.
     “Am I crushing you, because I can move?” I asked hopefully.
     “No. My head really hurts though.”
     “Well,” I said and I rolled over onto my stomach and once again found myself staring into those mysterious eyes. I swathed a hand across his forehead, moving his blond locks from his eyes so that I could assess the wound on his head. It looked fairly-- bad. The bleeding had clotted but there was a nasty bruise that was black and purple. “I think I have a first aid kit here somewhere, I’ll just go and find it,” I said and I again shifted my body over him in an attempt to get up. He again held me in place. That is when I became vividly aware that Malfoy was not only a boy but really more of a man. I felt it beneath me, pressing against my stomach. When I would move, it would twitch. My heart sped up upon feeling it move.
     “Sorry, it’s been over a year since I’ve been with a woman,” he said as if not embarrassed in the least. My eyes went wide and I leapt from the bed.
     “I really should find the first aid kit. Your head looks quite bad Mal—foy.”
     “You’re a prude. I knew it,” he said with a serious expression.
     “I think I put it just over here,” I said, ignoring his comment.
     “You’re not a virgin, are you? I mean surely Potty and Weasel…”
     “You shut up about that! It’s none of your business Malfoy,” I chastised. I could feel the blush creeping over my cheeks as I rummaged through a stack of bins that were organized neatly in the tent’s makeshift kitchen.
     “Wait, what was that troglodyte’s name, the quidditch star from Durmstrang? You boffed him at the dance. I almost forgot about that.”
     “You mean Viktor Krum, the best Seeker in all of Quidditch,” I shot back, annoyed that he was bringing up past boyfriends.
     “That’s the one. I heard that McGonagal busted you down by the Black Lake. Rumor has it that you were deep-throating him and he was moaning so loudly, loud enough to wake a sleeping troll. Guess I was wrong about you being a prude, my bad.”
     Upon hearing that vulgar description of a completely innocent date that I had in my fourth year, with the very gentlemanly Viktor Krum, I reached for the first thing that I saw, which happened to be a kitchen knife. I waved it in my hand wildly. “I did not engage in oral sex with Viktor or with anybody! That is a lie, and a dirty one at that,” I said growing angrier by the second.
     “So you are a virgin?” Malfoy said and he smirked and then folded his arms behind his head with a victorious expression playing over his smug face.
     “You’re a jerk,” I mumbled as I set the knife down and continued searching for the first aid kit. “So what if I am?”
     “I’m glad you are,” he said and once again I froze. My hands were shaking so badly that I almost dropped the first aid kit that I had finally found in the last bin, the only one I hadn’t sorted through yet.
     “Why should you even care about my, uh, my status?”
     “I don’t care, not really. I mean, I had you pegged as an uptight, prissy, know-it-all who really doesn’t know all that much but thinks she does. If you had fucked Krum I’d know that you don’t respect yourself much, not if you slept with a fucking moron like Krum. Then I would have to reassess my opinion of the muggle, Hermione Granger.”
     “Don’t you mean Mudblood?”
     “You said it, not me,” he said with ease and then turned away from me as not to have to look at the wounded expression on the Mudblood’s face. After that I spent half an hour rummaging through—well—everything. I made sure to make a ton of noise too in hopes of hurting his pretty head, the one that was already suffering in painful agony. Once I was satisfied, this after he covered his head with the pillow in a futile attempt to block out the loud bangs that I made from clattering metal pots and pans together, I ceased with the ruse to pay him back for the Mudblood comment.
     “Sit up, I need to bandage your head,” I ordered and to my surprise, he complied.
     “Be gentle,” he said and he turned to face me as I towered over him. My mouth fell open when I saw the five o’clock shadow that lined his jaw and chin. In the shadows he looked like a different person. Malfoy looked handsome, something I’d never noticed before and I once again felt the blush creeping over my face. I felt his grip on my arms and he was pulling me down to my knees. “There, that’s better,” he said in a much deeper than normal tone and I instinctively gulped. “Look, Granger, er—Hermione. Yes, I do know your name and while we are out here, stranded as it seems, I want to call a truce with you.”
     “Is that some lame attempt at an apology?”
     “Probably, but mostly it’s because I didn’t care for the way that you were pointing that knife at me,” he chuckled. “I’m groggy and this head injury, well, I might nod off and I don’t want to worry about being shanked in my sleep,” he laughed again. I rolled my eyes at him and then proceeded to dab his forehead with an antiseptic soaked cotton ball. He winced in pain from the sharp sting that the medicine caused but allowed me to clean his wound.
     “Fine. Truce. No more talk about my love life though, it makes me uncomfortable,” I said not looking into his eyes but rather looking over his head.
     “Is that because you’re embarrassed that you haven’t gotten one?”
     “Gotten one what?”
     “A love life to speak of,” he said and he cocked his head in quizzical fashion.
     “I should smack you across the face for that comment.” His comment stung. Bad.
     “It was a question, that’s all. I didn’t mean it the way that you think I meant it,” he lied.
     “Yes, yes you did mean it that way.”
     “No, I didn’t Granger. I simply meant that—I was thinking of myself probably,” he admitted. “I wanted to know if we should expect some equally as stupid, quidditch-tard sort of bloke to come barging into this tent, waving a wand at me and accusing me of defiling his precious Gryffindor princess. So is there? Do you have a bloody boyfriend, or not?” he asked forcefully.
     “Oh,” I smiled, feeling slightly stupid for my assumption. That’s when I decided to let him off the hook. Perhaps it was because he was injured and he looked so weak and pathetic sitting there on the edge of the cot with his shirt off and his white chest glistening so deliciously in the prism of light that shot through the crack in the tent. Gosh, did I just think that? I bumped my head too, that’s all it was. “No, no tards, quidditch or otherwise,” I said. “Now can we get off the subject of my love life already?”
     “Yeah, we can,” he said as he threw his aching arms into his shirt. “You aren’t ugly. I mean, you could do better than the likes of Krum,” he said and coming from Malfoy that was practically a compliment. I decided to take it as such rather than be offended by his poor choice of words.
     “Well, thank you, I think. Good to know that I’m not ugly,” I said with more than a little sarcasm in my voice.
     “The guys think you have hot legs and perky tits. The only shit they complain on is your hair, oh, and also your personality,” he said and I dropped the can of beef stew and the can opener that I was in the process of trying to open so that stupid Malfoy could eat. Screw me for caring whether he starves!
     “That’s really rude!”
     “Which part was rude, because only one of those was my own personal opinion, the rest was shit guys say about women?”
     “As if it even matters!” I was downright irate but I was sort of dying to know, in a morbid sort of a way, which insult was the opinion of others and which was pure Malfoy. I assumed he made it all up and they were all his but instead I stupidly asked just in order to clarify which insult was of his own making, because at least then I would know what exactly to be angrier than hell at him for the duration of our lock-up together. So I asked him.
     “So what you think my personality sucks and my hair is ugly?”
     “I said only one was my opinion.”
     “Which one Malfoy, because I swear—“
     “The perky tits one. Yours are small but they look quite good in those tight sweaters that you wear.”
     “Wha--?” My jaw fell open. He liked my breasts? It did not compute.
     “I don’t mind your hair, it’s kind of wild and there’s a lot of it. Gives a chap something to play with in the sack.”
     “Oh please Malfoy, you would never stoop to even be friends with someone like me, let alone spend any time in the sack with them. I’m a Muggle-born, remember?”
     “Yeah, and yet I slept with you last night, so it seems that we have already spent some time in the sack together.” He wagged his eyebrows at me at that and I recoiled in horror.
     “That will never happen again. Today I will find matches and then when this snow stops—Well, I’m assuming that you weren’t lying last night when you dragged me away from the train tracks. You said you knew the way back to Hogwarts and would fly us there. You do know which direction Hogwart’s is, don’t you, or was that a lie?”
     “Sure, of course I know.”
     “Good, then when the snow breaks and you’ve healed up a bit we will venture out on foot. With the broom broken and us being so far off the beaten path thanks to you, I don’t think a rescue party will even think to look here, wherever here is. I intend to remedy that though. I’m going to climb that peak, the one you can see if you step outside the tent. Perhaps from that vantage point I’ll be able to spot a landmark or something, perhaps a house or village. We can’t be the only ones out here and with no wands to do the work for us, we need supplies.”
     “Let me get my shoes and coat on and I’ll go with you,” he said and he moaned when he tried to stand.
     “Malfoy, just stay put. I’ve got this.”
~~~~~0~~~~~
     Nothing, that is what I saw when I reached the top of the rolling, sprawling peak. Of course I couldn’t see more than ten feet in front of me, what with the pelting ice and snow that was coming down in waves of alternating light and heavy snowflakes. There could be an urban city down there, but I would never know it, not with the weather such as it was. I trudged back down the hill, the knee-high snow forming icicles at the rim of my boots and by the time I reached the half buried tent I was a popsicle. I threw off my coat and boots and literally dove under the covers. The cot next to Malfoy was not nearly as warm but I was damned and determined to warm my frozen bones. Not having a fire though made it next to impossible to thaw out and eventually, when Draco held open the covers and scooted over on the cot to make room for me, I hesitated for a moment, but then slipped into the cot with him once more.
     “You’re shivering half to death,” he said in a low, gravelly voice that was entirely too sexy for the likes of such close quarters. “Here, warm your hands up,” he said and he moved my hands to his chest where he held my hands in his. It was strangely comforting not to mention warm! So there we lay, huddled together like two seals in the arctic trying to stay alive. Unfortunately I had burned through all platonic and non-war related conversation the night before when I was trying to keep him awake for fear of him slipping into a coma what with the possible concussion he’d sustained in the train wreck. There really wasn’t anything left to talk over except for the war, and thus far he and I had managed not to go there.
     “So, Voldemort is back and—“
     “No,” he said and he laid his index finger on my chin and turned my head to face him. “Look, we can’t talk about that shit and you know why we can’t. I don’t even think that you want to. I certainly don’t. We have hours to kill before dark and if I have to hear about how much you bloody like the stupid and mind numbingly boring classes at Hogwart’s that you find so bloody fascinating, again, then I’m going to lose what little respect I have for you,” he said with a plainly obvious smirk.
     “Then what do we talk about?”
     “Why do we have to talk at all?” he asked and he raised an eyebrow at me. The implications of what he meant were plainly obvious and my heart skipped a beat at his cryptic proposal.
     “What if it’s not good? We’ve hated each other for years. Don’t you think that would be a little odd for two people who have practically tried to kill—“
     “You think too much Granger,” he said and then in one fail swoop he captured my mouth. My head went immediately woozy when I felt his velvety tongue slip inside my mouth. Sinking into his fiery kiss was as easy as slipping into a hot bath, and just as natural. Latent desires, the whole notion that there is a fine line between love and hate, perhaps that was the answer to the quandary I found myself in of not only not, not liking it, but absolutely reveling in his smoldering kiss? “You’re thinking too much again, Hermione.”
     “I can’t help it. What’s it mean? I didn’t even enjoy kissing Viktor this much. Malfoy, I like kissing you! What’s wrong with me? Do you think,” I was speaking quickly and feeling entirely scatterbrained, not to mention unhinged right at that moment. “I must have a concussion too.”
     “No, I enjoyed it too,” he said in an attempt to set my mind at ease. I felt his lips travel down the side of my neck and I let out a soft moan at the amazing feel of the action.
     “Yeah, but we know you hit your head. You have an excuse, but me?”
     “Mmmm,” he groaned when his kissing reached my ear lobe and then, he slipped his hand up my shirt. My nipples pebbled immediately upon feeling his soft fingertips dance across my skin. “God damn they are perky,” he said and then he guided my hand downwards, over his lean hips and over his strong thighs until my hand rested over his boxers. “Touch me there, I won’t bite,” he purred in my ear and once again our lips found each other.
~~~~~~~0~~~~~~~
     I popped my eyes open and immediately was relieved to find myself still clothed. In my dream I stroked him to completion and he put his fingers in places where no boy had ever gone before. I gushed in my panties from the extreme nature of it all, but it was only a dream. Thank Merlin for that!
     “Malfoy, wake up,” I chided and I nudged him softly. He roused and opened his eyes and stared at me as if perplexed as to why I was waking him. “I had this strange dream about uh, well—“
     “Did you come harder than a pixie in heat in this dream you had?” he asked and then he flopped over on his side, turning away from me. I was glad that he did because my blush would have given me away had he seen it.
     “I—you and me, we were…”
     “You drifted off to sleep, but not before you got dressed and knocked some of the snow off the tent so it wouldn’t collapse under the weight of all the snow,” he said and my blood ran cold. I froze in the bed next to him. He must have sensed my unease because he rolled back over, pulled me into his arms and kissed me just under the chin before snuggling into me. “You were beautiful when you came for me. Don’t be embarrassed. Now, let me get some sleep slave driver. We can play around some more later,” he said and I stiffened.
     “That was real?”
     “The towel we used to clean up is on the floor if you need proof,” he chuckled. “Be a dear and pick that up won’t you?”
     “You jerk!” I said and I gave him a well-earned slap on the back. “I can’t believe I let Malfoy into my pants. I think the train crash caused my brains to be scrambled,” I said in a minor state of shock.
     “It was good for me too Granger, stop over analyzing everything. I also let you into my pants, let’s not forget that. I know I won’t be forgetting any time soon,” he said with a sinister sound about him. I could have been imagining the sinister part though. Perhaps he was right and I was over analyzing.
     “I’ve never done that before,” I murmured.
     “I know and that only added to the hotness of it,” he said and he leaned up on his elbow to face me. “You’re worrying about shit. What is it?”
     “Oh I don’t know what’s to worry about? Only yesterday we were enemies and you tried to kill my best friend. Last year your father tried to kill us, along with various other Death Eaters from your evil organization and today you, you, you,” I couldn’t bring myself to say it and my eyes were welling with tears.
     “Fingered you while you jacked me off?” I wailed upon hearing it so factually put. “That’s probably part of the attraction, you know the whole thing about us being on different sides. For years I either wanted to fuck you or kill you. I wasn’t sure which it was until you were on the back of my broom and I felt your little hands gripping tight onto my sides. It turned me on and I knew then that I didn’t want to kill you, but damn did I want to throw you down and fuck you. Hard. That’s saying something too, because I was hurting pretty bad from that stupid train accident that you caused when you saved that worthless Potter’s life. You could have killed us both, but even that is rather sexy in itself.”
     “This is all too much for me to process. Stop talking about wanting to make love to me, Draco! I can’t sleep with you anymore. This can’t happen again,” I said and with conviction I climbed out of bed and into the cot nearby. Alone.
~~~~~~~~0~~~~~~~~
     “I’m kissing your neck, my lips kneading your wanting flesh,” he said into the wee hours of the night. I was still awake, still thinking about our unexpected tryst and unable to process what it all meant.
     “Stop that,” I said weakly which only spurned him on.
     “I’m rubbing your pert nipples between my warm, experienced fingers.”
     “Yeah? Uh, what else are you doing?” I asked, unable to control my wanting eagerness.
     “Get back in my cot and I’ll tell you more,” he said seductively and I padded back over to the bed and got in bed with the devil incarnate.
~~~~~~~0~~~~~~
So that’s it for chapter one. Been a while since I’ve written anything, so still trying to get the juices flowing. Hope you enjoyed, let me know.
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Snowbound