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Jealousy	By : brandnewdaydawning Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 78819 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Hermione didn't like the skittish way that Colin scurried in through the porthole and straight to his room. It was late and he should have been in an hour ago at curfew. She risked a glance at Ron, sullenly bent over his chessboard and decided to talk to Colin later. She didn't want Ron to overhear anything that he shouldn't. She herself was in hunch mode over Potions, Additions and Alterations in a nice squishy armchair by the fire. She was still too furious to make out the words in her book, much less concentrate on reading up for tomorrows lecture. However, having book in hand and head safely down did have the advantage of warding off classmates who might want to speak with her.
All they wanted was the latest gossip. Jerks. Why was it so important that everyone know what Malfoy was all worked up about? Jeez, didn't these people have homework and exams to worry about. This wasn't the social hub, it was a flipping school. Really, she was most angry at herself. She had known that Malfoy was out to use and manipulate her and she had allowed her own petty jealousy to give him the tools to do it. She was supposed to be better than that. Stronger than that. Above all this teenage hormone driven drama. She was head of her class damn it. A brain. Not some fly by night floozy.
Hermione adored the printed word. There was something so sophisticated about setting your thoughts down on paper. The newspaper was especially dear to her heart; it immortalized words and thoughts, deeds and actions. Seeing her name splashed across the profit in conjunction with that boy was lewd and offensive. Those lies that were broadcast to the Wizarding world were far more indecent than any kisses or touches that she had shared with Malfoy. He had the nerve to embroil her in his filth, dirty her hands with his deception. She felt polluted.
Suddenly her quiet, if fake, peace was disturbed. House Elves, at least a dozen, were suddenly all around her burdened with huge baskets tumbling over with colorful flowers. Orchids, they were orchids. Vivid beautiful orchids, oranges and reds and blues. It took a few seconds to realize that they were for her and that the elves were milling about trying to present her with the flowers. One elf, squashed in the middle of the melee was jumping up and down and crying piteously "I is the note, I is the note."
Hermione stood and reached into the group rudely plucking the card from the squeaking elf simply to quiet the ear-piercing noise. She was going to kill him. She was simply going to kill him. That would solve everything. She'd toss his albino body in the lake and never be troubled by him again. Or she'd end up kissing him again. She wondered if she could get away with breaking up with him by owl…that way she wouldn't have to get anywhere near him again…ever. The card had some flimsy flowery apology that referenced nothing but poetry. Really, did he think that would get him anywhere with her?
Her eyes crossed as she noticed a pattern to the verse he'd scrawled but before she had a chance to piece her thoughts together a gaggle of girls had snagged her note and begin to squeal annoyingly. Apparently the drivel he had scribbled was romantic and she should be swooning. She snatched the note back, swept up an armful of flowers and marched up the stairs to her room. These chits were her peers? It seemed so unlikely. Sadly, Malfoy knew them better than her and was clever enough to put his real message in code so that his admirers would be none the wiser. She hated it when he was clever.
She slammed the door to her dorm, dumped her flowers unceremoniously across her bed and plopped down at her desk to decipher the code. He had used Arithmacy as a base, probably because the percentage of students who took it was woefully lacking and he knew she'd pick up on it. Thirty minutes later she didn't know whether to be flattered or flabbergasted. He obviously thought she'd be able to break the code no problem. However, she'd scribbled all over half her notebooks trying out different combinations and was beginning to want to pull her hair out. She hadn't come across a puzzle she couldn't solve in ages. He must have messed up the code somehow.
Stupid boy.
When the solution came to her, it was like a light in a box. She was even angrier. Rather than be angry with herself for not seeing the deceptive simplicity immediately, she chose to come down on the side of angry with him for making the damn thing so simple. Did he think she was an imbecile?
She was supposed to meet him at eight in greenhouse eight.
It was 7:53.
She would have to run, damn it. She hated to run.
She hated even more the fact that he had backed her into a corner. She had no choice but to meet him. If she didn't meet him then it would mean she couldn't break his stupid code. He was forcing her hand.
She hated being forced into anything. Free will was her thing. He ought to know this. But no, he was the great and powerful Malfoy. Everyone always did what he said and no one ever challenged him. Which was why they were in this ridiculous situation in the first place because daddy had dared to try to force him and he was having none of it. Yet it was nothing to try and force her.
She wouldn't be manipulated damn it.
By the time she crashed her way into the greenhouse she was furious.
She crashed through the door like the first wave of a tsunami and he couldn't help but give her his best satisfied smile. In the beginning, he had thought to subdue her temper. Teach her to be more like the simpering beauties in his circle. However, upon reflection, he now understood that the best course of action was to let her be herself. She was known for her temper, her passion. A passionate love like theirs would include Hermione being angry. Her fury added an air of authenticity to their relationship that couldn't be faked.
Not that he didn't need to do damage control. Having his balls removed with a quill and served to his owl wouldn't create the sort of authenticity he was looking for. He had decided on plausible deniability. It had been his original plan and the fact that she knew he had purchased the photo did nothing to alter the fact that she didn't actually know that he had submitted it to the paper. Anyone could have done that. Even that scrawny rat that had sold it to him. The kid obviously wasn't above accepting cash for his work.
He tried to tamp down the smugness of his smile and look contrite. He probably just looked constipated, but surely effort counted for something.
"I wasn't sure you were coming." He had been just a trifle nervous that she would ignore his note and him forthwith…making him look the complete idiot as he went chasing after her. He was relieved she wouldn't require public humiliation to come around to his way of thinking. The scary thing was that he had been gearing up to endure it for her and he wasn't sure what that said about him.
She threw her nose up in the air and managed to look down on him despite the fact that she stood a full foot shorter.
"I wasn't sure either." She pushed her hair off her neck giving him a view of creamy shoulder and he took care to keep his eyes on her face. Wouldn't do to be caught ogling, she wouldn't appreciate it the way most girls would.
"That little twerp spreads gossip faster than a dozen Hufflepuff girls so everyone knows we've had a fight." He didn't have to work so hard when it came to looking irritated. He was furious that he hadn't been able to throttle the little bugger for fear of his girl's reaction. Obviously he hadn't managed to even scare him enough because the whole school was twittering that he and Hermione had had a screaming match on the lawn and broken up. He must be losing his touch.
"Don't talk about Colin that way! This is not his fault, it's yours!" She squealed, even stomping a small booted foot for emphasis. He ignored her just for the pure pleasure of irking her and continued as if she hadn't protested.
"Luckily the whole fight is being spun in a way that works for us. Apparently," He gave her his most sly Slytherin look "we are broken up because I didn't want my father to know about us and our picture is in the paper."
His sly Slytherin look had no effect on her. "Good, that saves me the trouble of breaking up with you! There is nothing left to talk about." She spun on her heel to leave and he cursed even as he reached for her and spun her back around and pressed her up against a large support beam.
Her earthy colors looked so alive against the deep red wood.
He had told himself that he was going to cool it on the physical stuff. That it was scaring her, and him too, and that things were getting just a little out of control. His body was getting confused, reacting to her like she was a real girl, and not a pawn for his amusement. All that resolve and careful planning went out the window the moment he laid hands on her indecently soft skin.
He'd planned out what he would say and how he would act and what they would do. Careful planning and forethought were the hallmarks of a wise and powerful man. She had the uncanny ability to turn him into an idiot with a breathless gasp out of rosebud lips.
He buried one hand in her soft hair and aligned his body with hers, relishing every soft curve and dip. "Oh, there is plenty to talk about."
She struggled of course, pushing back up against him, not realizing just how good that felt. She was like settling down into a hot Jacuzzi. Sucking him in inch by inch until he was submerged in her presence. In moments he was completely intoxicated by her scent and touch and sweet breath on his face.
"This isn't a good idea." Had she not sounded breathless and girly he might have let her go and tried to grasp at the straws of his original plan to keep his distance. But she was soft and pliable in his arms, her voice soft and velvety. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted. She was practically begging for him to kiss her.
There wasn't any real excuse for it other than the fact that he wanted to. Oh, someone could be watching. They needed the practice. She needed to look disheveled and freshly kissed when he parted ways with her in front of the castle. She needed to be put in her place. All lies he knew he was telling himself. It was okay, he was comfortable with lies.
"Why did you submit that picture to the paper?" She asked, her breath tickled his lips. He ground his hips against her, suddenly painfully hard in his trousers. Lies raced through his head as one hand dropped to her hip to anchor her so he could push firmly against her. She sharply inhaled a breath and her eyes widened. She was finally taking notice that she had a physical effect on him.
"I thought it was a good opportunity. I should have consulted you." The truth came out ragged and breathless and he swayed against her in an ancient rocking rhythm even as he tightened his grip on her hair and ghosted his lips over hers. No one watching. They weren't practicing. This kiss would be real. It would mean something.
How was it possible that her scent overwhelmed an entire greenhouse of flora?
A hand came up and fisted in his shirt, balancing herself against him and he brushed his lips against hers again. Firmer, more insistent. He didn't need a reason to do what he wanted. He was a Malfoy. Draco Malfoy did as he pleased when he pleased and damned if it didn't please him to nibble on her lip and then use his tongue to sooth it.
Holy Merlin she was rocking back into him.
"From now on we discuss our plans beforehand. No more leaving me out."
He nodded against her mouth before kissing her more deeply. She sighed and he slipped his tongue inside, tasting her sweetness. His hand smoothing down her round hip to her firm thigh to the back of her knee so he could shift her weight and pull her leg up over his hip. Letting him fit in the space between. Just like the other day. Her other hand came up quickly around his neck to keep her balance.
He was all systems go, lost in her taste and her touch and her scent. Drowning in soft willing girl. But she wanted to talk. No way to forget who he was kissing when it was Hermione Fucken Granger whom he was lip locking. She never shut up. She pulled back enough to whisper. "So it's agreed. No decisions without me?"
Yes, Yes, Yes. He would have agreed to anything to keep her mouth occupied and quiet. It took full four or five seconds for his poor brain to fire the message to his mouth. "Yeah, we decide together."
And the truth telling and the agreeing with her were worth it. Because she leaned into him and gave him a soft sweet girly kiss. His grip tightened on her knee and he cradled the back of her neck with his hand and proceeded to devour her lips. He was never going to stop. He was never going to let her go. He was going to…
Jump apart and push her low to the ground because someone had just opened the greenhouse door.
On hands and knees they carefully crawled around the intruder, the herbology teacher. Bitch had the worst timing. He would have to plan his revenge carefully. Watching Hermione's ass wiggle as she carefully wound her way through the planters in the dim lighting did nothing to cool his ardor despite the unpleasant dirt on his hands and knees. They managed to squeeze through the door with Professor Sprout none the wiser.
Then she was pulling him to his feet and they were sprinting to the castle. She had a very sweet laugh when she was trying to be quiet. Her hand felt small and fragile in his and for a moment they were just two kids having fun sneaking out. It felt natural to pull her to him in front of the steps, brace his hands around her face, and give her another soft sweet kiss. Taste her laughter on his lips.
Something about it must have spooked her though because she pulled back with that wide eyed surprised look that irritated him so and fled indoors without so much as a goodbye thrown over a hasty shoulder.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Jealousy