Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Burn	By : mintmocha Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 4719 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter. I only own a watch and a couple of pairs of shoes so don’t sue me.

Burn
by mint-mocha

Prologue:

She remembers clearly how it started. The change from utter hatred to pure attraction. The way his looks of disgust turned to glances of complete lust. The way his arrogant smirk used to repel her, and the way that same smirk makes her gravitate towards him now.

Draco Malfoy, the purest of the purebloods, son of a supposed Death Eater, public enemy number one until, well, until that day, had seduced her. And she had let him. The way his smoldering gaze ran all over her body that day just did her in. She was putty, not even under his hands, merely under his eyes.

Of course the resistance was there, although it was pathetic. It was expected of her, Hermione Granger, bookworm, student extraordinaire of Hogwarts, Gryffindor prefect, in the running for Head Girl next year. Being exactly that, she was expected to abhor Malfoy’s stinking presence. The way he mocked her and her best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, was reason enough for her to detest his existence. He represented everything to hate, everything to fear, and everything that was oh-so-desirable. The quintessential bad boy. The wizarding world equivalent of the guy who wore tight leather pants and rode a motorcycle. And Hermione had, on more than one occasion, pictured the platinum-blond haired Slytherin prefect wearing nothing but tight leather pants, riding his Firebolt, and landing right in front of her to sweep her into his arms and dip her backwards to kiss her until her mind explodes. Even before that day.

She remembers the moment before she boarded the Hogwarts Express, and the prickly feeling she got. The feeling she got only when someone was staring at her. And certainly enough, when she turned around, Draco Malfoy was giving her a look that was nothing like the usual glares of repulsion he threw at her direction. His mouth was slightly open, his eyes wide. A gaze of pure shock on his near-perfect features. Apparently he noticed her looking back at him, because he snapped his mouth shut, gave her the briefest of his smirks and winked. Hermione thought then that even though she caught him looking at her with obvious desire, she thought, on his features, he covered it all up by having the temerity to be the slimy git that he is.

He didn’t talk to her during the ride to Hogwarts. Not that they ever did much of talking, since bickered is more like it. Hermione caught Draco looking at her direction once. But unlike most boys who would turn away in embarrassment at having been caught, he held her gaze, as if challenging her to do something. He trailed his eyes upon her, from her feet, up to her knees, a small part of her creamy thighs peeking out the short hem of her skirt, to her chest. There he stopped, a slow smile spreading across his face. He licked his lips, and then continued the ascent of his eyes over her body. He gazed at her long, delicate neck; his eyelids nearly fell closed and his mouth opened slightly. He took in the soft curve of her lips, her smooth cheeks and her chocolate-colored eyes. Her hair startled him, for what once was bushy and unmanageable, was now soft and sleek, with subtle waves that fell just past her shoulders. He smirked, as if he knew of the discomfort she felt at his inspection.

At that moment, Hermione knew that the egotistical Slytherin asshole who just scrutinized every exposed, and some which were not, part of her body, would also be the man she would see whenever she shut her eyes. She knew then that she would dream of him at night, and want him to run his hands all over her body, the way his eyes did a few moments before.

She hated him, she knew. His family’s reputation was notorious. They abused house-elves, when she was a firm advocate of their rights, even forming S.P.E.W., which sadly, failed to accomplish much. Draco was against her society from the very start. He was very vocal about his disapproval. He mocked her, and laughed in triumph when her attempts proved futile. He loathed her best friends, especially Harry. It seemed as though Draco was jealous of the Boy Who Lived. Or maybe it was because he was a staunch follower of Voldemort, and Harry defeated He-who-must-not-be-named when he was only a baby. Draco also carried deep abhorrence for the red-haired Weasleys and their simple ways. Being the haughty aristocratic bastard that he is, he looks down upon the Weasleys, especially Ron, who was almost his exact opposite. Where Ron was crude, Draco was suave and charming. But what Ron lacked in seduction skills, he made up for in geniality and all around amiability, which Draco lacks.

Moreover, his family, and he, hated her kind, Muggle-borns, or Mudlboods. She had lost count of the number of times the despicable word, ‘Mudblood,’ spilled past his lips to insult her and break the wall she built around her heart. He taunted her, mocked her, made her feel like the lowest creature on the food chain.

And yet, at that moment, all she wanted was for him to run his mouth over her hot skin. His mouth, from where all sorts of invectives and insults have poured forth, was the object of her fascination. He made her burn like no other man did before. And she hated it.

Everything that happened after that moment, that day, felt like an insult to her intellect. Though she could not resist. Every glance set her body in fire. Every word, even insults, sounded like murmurs of love in the throes of passion.

The burning she felt did not stop. Not even when he insulted her, called her names just like he always did. She wanted him, though she had the complete knowledge that he is perfectly content in casual shagging and feared commitment. It was the thing Muggle movies were made of: the allure of the forbidden fruit. What Hermione felt was against everything she and her friends stood for.

But the burning wouldn’t stop.

TBC

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