A Slow Seduction | By : MoonlightVision Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 56424 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of JK's world and characters. I do not make any profit from this. |
A/N: So sorry this has taken me so long to update!! I'm still working on this... slowly. I've had to move home to help take care of my parents, my dad is going through some health things that we are trying to figure out... so bewteen that, working full time and my now 2 hour commute... I haven't found a lot of time for writing. But I still am plugging away slowly. HUGE thank you to everyone who left a comment in the reviews!!! You are why I keep finding time to add a little bit here and there when I can steal a moment, your words inspire me and make me want to write more!! So, keep 'em coming!! Enjoy!!
Chapter 11
“Malfoy, we're not going to find it,” Hermione said for what felt like the hundredth time. They'd been up and down every corridor in the immediate vicinity and hadn't found a thing. The baby had long since stopped crying and she somehow knew they weren't going to find it. She was beyond relieved that it wasn't in her head, but that relief had drained the last of her energy and she was exhausted.
Malfoy stopped at the end of the hallway and glanced in both directions, listening hard.
Hermione sighed as she stopped beside him. “Come on, it's late,” she glanced at her watch, “in fact it's half past one! We're out way past curfew, even for us!”
“Do I look like I care about curfew, Granger?” he said, eyes shifting from one hallway to the other.
She could tell he was trying to decide which one to search next, “We've already looked down these corridors...”
“Maybe we missed something. We were just over there, and it sounded so close.”
“Malfoy, we've been looking for two hours,” she sighed. She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and pulled him with her as she turned. She needed to go to bed, and she couldn't leave him out here by himself. Surprisingly he didn't protest as she towed him down the corridor, he was just watching her with a stunned look on his face. Clearly he hadn't expected her to give up on finding this baby.
“Don't look at me like that,” she mumbled, “I've had weeks of hearing this baby, remember? I know we're not going to find it. I never did.”
“It's not-” Malfoy stopped, cleared his throat and continued, “It just doesn't make sense, why can I hear it now too?”
Realizing he was keeping pace with her now, she dropped his arm, ignoring his frown, “I don't know. I'm just glad you can. It means...”
He scoffed as they reached the portrait hole, gave the password and waited for her to enter first, “It means you're not going crazy after all, yes you mentioned that a couple times.”
Exasperated Hermione swept past him. How could he be such a gentleman, holding the portrait door open for her, and such a jerk all at the same time?
“Granger?”
His voice stopped her halfway to her room, “What now?”
“We should tell someone.”
“Tell them what exactly, Malfoy?” She said, turning to face him, “That we were out past curfew because we were looking for a baby? A baby that no one else can hear. Even if we are really hearing it, no one will believe us, because as far as I can tell it's only been me and you that have heard it.”
Malfoy absently rubbed the back of his neck, “You don't know that. What if other people are hearing it and they're just afraid to say anything too?”
Hermione blinked. She hadn't thought of that.
“Didn't think of that did you?” he mused, almost mockingly.
She shook her head, turning to open her door, “No, I hadn't. But it's late and I'm too tired to think about it right now. We can figure this out in the morning. Goodnight, Malfoy.”
Hermione closed the door and leaned her forehead against it, trying to stave off all the emotions of the evening. Now that she was alone she realized that her head was throbbing. Crossing to her dresser she pulled out one of the headache potions she had stashed there. Between Malfoy being so touchy and argumentative all evening and then the relief and tears of finding out this baby wasn't in her damned head, coupled with the fact that they'd searched for hours... she wasn't surprised she had a raging headache.
---**---
The next morning Draco lay in bed, thinking. He hadn't slept well at all. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Granger wasn't hearing things. Or if she was, he was now hearing them too. And he didn't know which was more unsettling, that there might be an actual phantom baby somewhere in the castle, or that Granger – and now himself – might be going crazy.
Staring at the canopy of his bed he sighed in frustration, she'd also touched him willingly last night. As much as this baby was bothering him, he couldn't get that thought out of his mind. How nonchalantly she'd slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, and how much it had surprised him. And thrilled him. It meant he was getting somewhere. Even if it only meant she was getting more comfortable around him. There had been nothing sexual about the way she'd reached for him, but it was a huge step in his eyes.
He glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. Eight am. Figuring he'd waited long enough he dragged himself out of bed. They needed to tell someone about this, of that much he was sure. He didn't know who just yet, McGonagall or Pomfrey, but someone needed to know, regardless of how against it Granger seemed.
Crossing to her door he pounded on it a few times, “Granger, get up!” There was no answer.
His eyes flitted around the common room. There was no way she'd left already. He would have heard her leave, he'd been up for hours already. He knocked again, “Granger!”
Still nothing.
Draco stared at the door for another half second, before shrugging to himself, he didn't really have anything to lose. Reaching for the handle he turned it and pushed, it was unlocked and swung open easily.
He stepped inside and closed the door loudly, “Granger, for the love of Merlin, wake up,” he said, crossing the room.
“Malfoy!” she screamed amongst a flurry of blankets as she sat up and pulled them to her chest. “What are you doing?! Get out!”
“No,” he stated simply, coming to a stop beside her bed, “You've slept long enough-”
“The hell I have,” she exclaimed, eyes flashing, “It's Saturday, Malfoy.”
Draco rolled his eyes, “I know what day it is, Granger.”
She just stared at him, blinking, which gave him a minute to study her. Her hair was braided, but little bits were sticking out every which way, and her eyes were still heavy, clearly he had actually woken her up. The covers were clutched to her chest but he could still see that she had on a tank top, a purple one with lace at the top. He smirked, she actually looked pretty cute. Startled and sleepy had never looked so appealing.
She groaned and rested her forehead on her hand, “Why are you smirking, Malfoy – or better yet, why are you in my room? How did you even get in?”
“I used the door.”
“I'm not stupid, I know you used the door. It was locked.”
As he sat on the edge of her bed, facing her, he couldn't help but smirk again at her shocked expression, “It wasn't. Now, are you going to get up, or do I need to drag you out of bed?” He caught the way her hand tightened around the duvet. He dearly hoped she'd make him do the later.
“I beg your pardon?” Granger said, eyes huge now.
“We need to go find McGonagall and tell her what happened last night,” he elaborated, letting his eyes follow her hand as it adjusted the covers at her feet, tucking it in more securely.
Her shoulders slumped, “Malfoy, we don't need to do that right this second. This could have waited.”
He stood abruptly, “No, Granger, it couldn't. I couldn't sleep last night and need to get this off my chest, and I suspect you do to.”
“Fine,” she sighed, “Go tell the Headmistress if you must, but I'm going back to bed.”
Draco grinned as she flopped back onto the pillows. Why did she make this so easy for him?
“Oh no, you don't,” he said, putting one knee on the bed so he could lean over her. He grabbed her wrist and for a second their eyes met, hers wide with disbelief, his sparking mischievously. He glanced down at her lips when she inhaled sharply, then back to her eyes. He stayed like that for another few seconds, wondering when she was going to react, when she was going to pull away. He could feel her hip against his knee, and the pulse in her wrist beat erratically under his fingers. A small part of him was tempted to try something, anything, but he knew it was too soon. He needed her to want him, and she wasn't there yet. She was tolerating him, but he knew even that was on thin ice some days.
“Are you getting up now?” he asked softly.
“Malfoy-”
“Are you getting up?” he pressed.
There it was, the tug of her hand, trying to free her wrist, “No.”
“Wrong answer, Granger,” He said as he stood quickly, pulling her with him, before she had a chance to try to recover.
---**---
Hermione gasped as she was hoisted forcefully out of bed, stumbling into Malfoy as her feet hit the floor.
“Malfoy!” she exclaimed loudly, “What on earth!?”
His body was warm, and solid, and too close. She tried to step away from him but he followed her, his hand still clamped around her wrist, holding it to his chest. Her legs hit the bed and she froze, her heart pounding. Why did he keep doing this? Why did he keep putting her in these positions? She flashed back to last nights conversation, because he thought she was something to play with, that's why.
To her horror, Malfoy leaned back slightly and lazily dragged his gaze up and down her body. She knew immediately that he'd be getting a very good view of more of her than she wanted, since she only had on her sleep shorts and tank top.
“Not bad, Granger.”
Hermione felt her face flame, “You are a pig, Malfoy,” she spat.
“Not at all, Miss Granger,” he drawled, “If I were I'd be doing a lot more than just looking and appreciating the beauty in front of me.”
She blinked at him, speechless. Had he just called her beautiful? She swallowed, trying to find words. Instead her eyes followed him as he cocked his head slightly, a bemused smirk on his face.
“If you wanted to return the gesture, I wouldn't object in the least,” he said, his voice low.
It was getting hard to control her breathing, something she hated she'd started to notice about herself when his voice dropped to that octave. She knew he was trying to flirt with her, and she kept trying to convince herself that it was better than having him bully her, but if this was the cost? She loved Ron, nothing would ever change that, but she couldn't deny that it was kind of nice to have someone flirt with her, even if it was Malfoy. Ron had certainly never been good at flirting... not like this.
Just as she was about to let her eyes travel down to his chest, she caught herself. What was she thinking?! She gave herself an internal shake, she was NOT enjoying Malfoy's flirting. It was Malfoy, for Christ’s sake!
Wrenching her hand from his grasp she side stepped around him and quickly walked to the door, pulling it open rather forcefully.
“You win, Malfoy, we can go find McGonagall,” she hissed, holding the door open, “But I need to get dressed, so get out!”
Malfoy winked as he sauntered towards her, “I don't need to leave-”
“OUT!” she screamed, pushing him roughly through the doorway and slamming it behind him. She turned the lock for added measure, seething as she heard him laugh from the other side.
“Five minutes, Granger!” he yelled, “Or I'm coming back in there!”
“Ughhhh!” she stomped angrily towards the wardrobe. Why did he have to be so infuriating? And why was this so one sided? Why was she always the one left rattled after their encounters? Why didn't he get mad anymore?
Hermione pulled on some clothes and leaned her head against the wood of the wardrobe door. He didn't get mad anymore because she assumed he'd done what she had always dreamed was impossible. He'd decided to change who he was and be nice to her. Flirt with her even, which confused her to no end. He was still a jerk, but she couldn't seem to convince herself that he was the same person he had been. The person she thought he'd always be. Even though he still seemed to think she was something to play with, it wasn't the same as it had been, he wasn't being mean mean. Just mean in a teasing way. Which was also confusing.
Turning she leaned back on the door as she closed it. How could two short weeks change her opinion of someone so drastically? How could someone who hated Harry so much, someone who had gone out of his way to torment them, be so different now?
Her eyes grew wide as a thought struck her. Harry! Malfoy hated Harry. It was always Harry who had gotten the worst of his malevolence in school. Maybe how he was acting now was how he always would have acted, had he and Harry not been at each others throats. That was worth pondering over.
A fist hit the door, making her jump, “Granger! Let's go!”
She'd have to ponder later.
---**---
Draco watched as she told McGonagall everything. He patiently waited as she stumbled through her story, her eyes searching the older woman's face beseechingly. He almost felt sorry for her.
He glanced at McGonagall, who had a thoughtful expression on her face as she listened to Granger's story. She was sitting behind her desk, in her plaid house robes. They'd clearly woken her when they arrived, which was probably why Granger was stuttering so bad. Of course she would be mortified at having woken the Headmistress, a woman he knew she looked up to immensely, to tell her they'd been hearing things. What he couldn't tell yet was whether the professor believed them or not.
Granger had arrived at the part about last night, leaving out exactly what they'd been doing when they heard the baby. He almost smirked, imagining her trying to explain to the professor why he'd had her pinned up against a wall while they'd been on patrol.
He caught Granger's eyes as she looked to him, “And that's- that's when Malfoy heard it too...”
McGonagall also turned her gaze on him, raising her brows slightly.
He turned back to Granger and he saw her hesitation, and knew exactly what she was thinking. She was suddenly scared that this had been a trap. That he'd played along just to get her to admit things to the Headmistress so that she would look crazy. A small part of him wanted to entertain that idea, but it'd take too long to get her to forgive him.
He nodded reassuringly at her, “It's true, Professor,” he said, meeting the elder lady's questioning gaze defiantly. “I did hear it last night. Very distinctly, a baby crying, and not far from where we were.”
“And where exactly were you, mister Malfoy?”
He answered quickly, hoping she wouldn't notice the slight colour that had crept into Granger's cheeks. “Seventh floor, near Gryffindor tower.”
“And you don't think it was a student crying? Perhaps someone was lost?”
Draco shook his head, “Like I said, it was very clearly a baby. Plus we searched very thoroughly, if it had been a student out past curfew we would have found them.”
McGonagall sat back in her chair and regarded the pair of them closely.
“You- you do believe us, don't you, Headmistress?” Granger asked in a small voice, wringing her hands together in her lap.
“As unlikely as it seems that there is a baby at Hogwarts, I have no reason to doubt that you are telling me the truth,” she replied calmly.
Granger exhaled audibly, letting her shoulders relax. Draco grinned internally, maybe he could suggest a massage later, she'd been tense since they got there.
“I can alert the other staff and we can do some investigating, and come up with a plan on how to proceed from here. I'm sure you are aware, however, that looking for something that we can neither see nor hear, even with magic, is broaching on the impossible,” McGonagall said, carefully watching their expressions.
Draco glanced at Granger in time to see her face fall slightly. “I know, Professor,” she said, “I-,” she glanced at him, “I wasn't really expecting you to be able to do anything.”
Draco grimaced at the accusing look she was throwing him, “Would it be helpful, Headmistress, if we reported to you if we hear it again?”
“Yes, Draco, that would be helpful. Take note of when and where you hear it, and perhaps how loud it sounds. That would help myself and the other professors pin point a location of the occurrences, which might tell us if it is associated with a certain area of the castle.”
The Headmistress paused and pursed her lips, making Draco wonder what she was thinking. She leaned forward and shuffled a few parchments on her desk before looking back to them. If she had to actually think about how she was going to word something he knew it wasn't going to be a good thing.
“I would like you two to go back to your dormitory and relax for the rest of the day, I will have meals delivered to you. And I'll send Madame Pomfrey by, shortly, with some tea and biscuits. Once I fill her in on the situation, I'm sure she will be eager to talk to you.”
Granger nodded wordlessly, got up and stalked out the door. Draco stared after her, confused, McGonagall hadn't said anything that bad. “Uh, thanks, professor, we'll let you know if we hear anything,” he shot over his shoulder as he hurried to catch up to her.
Outside the office, Granger was already halfway down the corridor. Judging by the pace she was striding with, she was mad. Why was she mad?
“Hey, Granger, wait up,” he called, picking up his own pace.
She didn't seem to hear him, or she was ignoring him.
“GRANGER!”
Nothing. Sighing, Draco broke into a jog. What had her knickers in a knot?
Grabbing her elbow, he tried to slow her down, “Hold up, Granger-”
She shook off his hand with a glare, “Don't even talk to me, Malfoy.”
“What? Come on, what on earth could you be mad about? I thought that went well.” He reached for her again. Why wouldn't she stop and talk to him? He hadn't thrown her under the bus back there, despite wanting to, so he had no idea why she was mad.
Granger spun away from him, finally stopping and held up her hand. “Don't,” she hissed, fingers splayed, palm towards him as if she wanted to push him further from her, “just don't.”
Draco could only stand there and gap at her as she retreated again, storming down the hallway. What had he done wrong?
---**---
Hermione was silently fuming, Madame Pomfrey had indeed come by with tea and biscuits, and had had a lengthy chat with them. She had answered, only because she knew she had to, otherwise more questions would be asked. Some questions she bent the truth a bit on, mostly because she didn't feel like explaining to the witch why she seemed to find herself cornered by Malfoy all the time. And to top it off, Malfoy had been watching her out of the corner of his eye the entire time, as if she might blow up at any second. And she felt like she was going to. He'd answered questions too, but since she'd heard the baby more often than him, most of them were directed at her.
As the medi-witch left and the portrait closed behind her, Hermione put down her tea cup and headed to her room. She didn't want to be around anyone right now.
“Whoa, not so fast, Granger,” Malfoy said, springing up and bolting in front of her, forcing her to stop.
“Maloy-” she started.
“No,” he glared her down, crossing his arms across his chest, “you owe me an explanation. What the hell is with your attitude?”
“I owe you an explanation?” she retorted, flabbergasted.
“Yes, you do. I don't see why you're mad at me...”
“You don't!?” Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes.
“No, Granger, I don't. So please, enlighten me,” Malfoy drawled, “If I've done something wrong, I at least want to know what it is.”
“What do you think that was?” she hissed. This was trying her patience. Did he really not see what that had been? Why the headmistress had had Madame Pomfrey come 'chat' to them? Surely he wasn't that dense.
He only shrugged, “Seemed to me it was exactly what McGonagall said it was, Pomfrey brought us tea and wanted to talk to make sure we were okay.”
“Malfoy, that was basically a psych eval!! All those questions?? What were you feeling when you heard it? Who was around you at the time? Why did you feel the way you did when you heard it? They think I'm crazy!”
Malfoy dropped his hands to his sides, stunned, “You got that from what McGonagall said in her office?!” He let out a sigh, and licked his lips, “Granger, that is not what that was-”
“It is! And it's your fault!” she yelled, her voice cracking slightly.
Anger flashed across his face, “My fault?!”
“Yes!”
He took a menacing step towards her, “And just how did you reach that conclusion?”
Hermione was too angry to let him intimidate her, not this time. She glared up at him, using her finger against his chest to accentuate her words, “You made me tell.”
She watched him search her eyes, waiting for the anger that she knew would come, anger that had always come when she accused him of things. Anger she needed to fuel her own. To get her through this.
Instead he closed his eyes and quietly exhaled, and did the last thing she ever imagined Draco Malfoy would do. He pulled her into his chest, wrapped his arms around her and hugged her.
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