Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Shiver	By : valkyrie136 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 21256 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the fandom. J.K. Rowling does. I do not make any profit from Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

Chapter List
- 10
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- 12
I feel awful. I make myself eat my dinner, and then I prepare for detention. It’s been almost a week since my visit to Snape’s—no—Malfoy’s office. I hardly speak to any of my classmates, angry at having been manipulated and set up. Angry that there is nothing I can do, nothing, at least, that doesn’t involve breaking the rules.
I have this heavy feeling in the bottom of my stomach.
I can’t help but think that something isn’t quite right with Malfoy, or him having this degree of authority over me. It makes me uneasy.
And the way he looked at me…
His eyes were scary in how calm he was.
I don’t have any reason—other than the past—to think that something bad will happen.
This feeling has taken root in me and because of that I have dreaded this detention all week.
What will he make me do?
I don’t know.
I haven’t really got a choice.
I am surprised because he has summoned me to the astronomy tower.
It hasn’t been used, not in a long time.
There is dust everywhere.
He is waiting for me, patiently. That strange smile on his face. It is unnerving, to say the least. Like a child I feel inexplicably frightened—like when you go to the doctor and despite how much he reassures you that doesn’t change the fact that something painful will happen shortly.
‘Ms. Granger,’ he begins in that cool, annoyingly sweet voice, ‘I am glad you were able to make it.’
He turns to look at the astronomy tower, and as he does I look at it too. It really is a mess. Dust and cobwebs. Junk. It seems that they have been using it as a dumping ground for things.
‘We are going to soon move lessons for astronomy here—including astrology. Of course, as you can see, it is not in the best condition. Normally the elves take care of this mess, but I thought, given your poor judgment earlier and failure to take full responsibility for your mistakes, that it would only be fitting that you begin cleaning it. ‘
My jaw drops. I look around. There is no way I can clean this alone.
Something flickers across Malfoy’s face but it is gone too fast for me to analyze. I swallow, ‘And how am I going to do this?’
‘With these supplies. It’s what the elves use. Of course you could bring this up with the headmistress if you think that it is not a suitable punishment. Of course she is incredibly tired, have you seen her? I swear her hair has turned white over night…’ He shrugged prettily, ‘Never the matter, you are of course free to approach her with your problems. ‘
I narrow my eyes. He is right. She has been busy. And what was I going to do? Tell her that I couldn’t clean up a messy room? I won’t give him the satisfaction, because deep down I know that is exactly what he wants me to do. What better way to discredit with me than to have me do it myself? A slytherin tactic, if there ever was one.
I cross my arms, ‘I’m ready.’
‘Perfect,’ He practically purrs, and somewhere in my mind, a little voice whispers maybe that was the wrong choice but I ignore it.
I spend the first hour removing items.
After that hour I am covered in filth, and sweaty. I’ve removed my robe, and my shirt is sticking to my skin.
In the doorway Malfoy sits in a chair, reading. He never looks up to see how I am fairing. It makes me more relaxed.
And then I begin to use the ‘cleaning’ supplies. A specially made chemical, he says, that will eat through the dust.
‘Rather ingenious. It just eats up the dust and dirt.’ He pauses, ‘Take care, because it is very strong.’
I begin using it, and then I make a mistake: because I am tired, I am moving faster, and not paying attention. The potion splashes my hand, and I let out a surprised hiss.
It burns, like fire.
‘Everything alright? Do you require any help?’ He asks.
I grit my teeth. I won’t admit that I made a mistake. Ron used to call my stubbornness my worse fault. Maybe he was right. Because I can’t imagine admitting to Malfoy that I made a mistake. He would enjoy it too much.
So I begin to scrub the floor. Watching, like magic, as the place looks clean.
But I am tired…
And it keeps getting on my hands.
An hour later I am so tired, I know I will ache in the morning, but the place is clean.
But my hands…
They are raw…
And inflamed.
‘Very good Ms. Granger you may—‘
He cocks his head to the side, ‘Your hands…they look rather bad, Ms. Granger.’ He sighs dramatically, ‘Why didn’t you ask me for the gloves?’
I feel my lower jaw sag in shock.
Gloves. What gloves? ‘I never kn—‘
He held them up, ‘Don’t you remember? When I told you to clean, you should use the gloves.’
My eyes widen, and I feel my lower lip tremble. Without warning my entire body begins to shake and my eyes tear up.
He never said..he never said…oh my god…
‘You never said anything about gloves, I’m not stupid!’
I scream this, as loud as I can, angry tears running down my cheeks.
But he doesn’t get angry.
No.
He looks…
Sad.
Sympathetic.
‘Ms. Granger, regardless of what you think happened or didn’t happen, I did mention the gloves.’ He pauses, ‘I am concerned for you. Has this happened before?’
I shake my head frantically, ready to deny everything.
And as I turn I happen to see my reflection—
Covered in dirt
Skin raw form the potion..
And crying. I look like a crazy woman.
It makes me stop.
Oh god, there must be something wrong with me. There is.
Malfoy’s right.
I burst into tears, and in two steps he closes the distance between us.
To think that Draco Malfoy is comforting me…
It is unthinkable, and just another sign of how bad my situation is.
‘Shhh, don’t cry Ms. Granger. Everything will be fine.’
Like a child I cling to those words, because I am so afraid of my own mind, afraid of myself, I want to believe him.
He gently clutches my shoulders and guides me back to the castle. I can’t stop crying, and because it is the weekend, no one is around. Or maybe they are, and they just don’t want anything to do with me, because that’s what I am. A stupid, toxic girl who can’t even follow instructions without hurting herself.
Because I am crying, I don’t pay attention, and before I know it, I am…
In the potions room.
‘The nurse?’
‘Busy, I’m afraid. But I do have a cream that will help you.’
He surprises me when he picks me up and sets me a top his desk.
I open and shut my mouth, not sure what to do or say. The situation is out of my control, and I am embarrassed, so I just sit there and wait.
He returns with a small jar and opens it.
And he takes my hand…
And he gently begins to rub the cream into my hand.
Immediately I feel relief.
And for the first time, I become aware of something I never noticed before: that Draco Malfoy is in fact man. I can’t help but notice his hands, and how…graceful they look. With manicured nails. Not at all like Ron’s. But undeniably male.
I swallow, and keep my head down because now I am incredibly embarrassed, and feel my cheeks burn red.
He takes my other hand, and gently, methodically rubs the cream into that hand as well.
I can feel the weight of his eyes on me, and I slowly look up.
He is staring at me.
Massaging my hand.
It no longer hurts, but I can’t seem to find the words. My mouth opens and shuts.
He leans closer.
And in a voice that is both low and seductive, he quietly asks, ‘Is there something you wish to tell me, Ms. Granger?’
And then it happens.
I can feel a wave of something hot, something warm, move through me.
My legs squeeze together and my nipples tighten.
And all I can do is stare at him.
So I do the only thing I can do: I shake my head.
No.
And a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. And he continues to massage my hand even though it no longer hurts, and it is like I can read his mind as easily as he can read mine.
He knows that I am wet.
And he knows that I know he knows this, and that only makes me squeeze my thighs tighter together.
And I am afraid, because this is scary.
Because this is Malfoy, and because I don’t want any of this.
I swallow, hard, and my cheeks burn red and I take my hand back. ‘T-thank you very much, Professor.’
I think now he will let me go.
But I am surprised.
And what he does next shocks me.
He places his hands on either side of me, gripping the edge of the desk, and in effect, trapping me, while bending so that we are eye level.
And he smiles again, ‘Ms. Granger, I know you and I have had our differences, but please know that as your professor I want you to be succeed and to be happy. My door is always open.’
Is it my imagination? Is that some kind of invitation? I don’t stay to find out.
I rudely push his arm away and scramble for the exit. ‘T-thank you again, good night.’
I don’t wait to hear his reply.
I run, faster than I’ve run in years, and I don’t look back.
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Shiver