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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.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
A/N: I know it's been forever since I updated, but here is the next chapter! I'm so sorry it took so long... kind of lost some files on my computer and had to start over on some things which was a bit daunting, so I put it off longer than I should have. But it's here! And I'm already working on the next one. THANK YOU to everyone who read, and especially those who reviewed, your words dug me out of the hole I was in and made me want to keep writing for you! Thanks a million! Enjoy!

Chapter 12
Hermione was stunned. At least that's the emotion she thought she was feeling. What other way was she supposed to feel? Draco Malfoy was hugging her! Actually hugging her. The longer she stood there, smushed into his chest, the more stunned – and confused – she became. Why was he hugging her? She'd been yelling at him. He was supposed to yell back. He was supposed to be angry. He wasn't supposed to hug her!
The hand that had been poking his chest was now squished flat between them and she could, unnervingly, feel his heart beat under her palm. Slow and steady. Not like hers. Her heart was racing a mile a minute. And so was her brain, trying to make sense of this.
Just as she was about to speak, she felt him inhale slowly, deeply, and she froze. But he only exhaled with a sigh, his breath warming the top of her head. In the back of her mind she registered just how close his face must be to her hair, but before she could grasp that thought fully, he spoke.
“I'm sorry.”
Hermione felt her forehead furrow. What? Sorry? He was sorry? Had he ever uttered those words to her before? To anyone? What was going on?!
Fighting through her shock she pushed back from him, he loosened his hold on her but he didn't let her go. But it was enough that she could see his face now. There was no trace of a smirk, no haughty glare, nothing to imply he was being sarcastic.
She shook her head slowly, “Excuse me?”
“I'm sorry I made you tell. I thought it was the best thing to do.”
Again, no hint of sarcasm.
“Oh,” was all she could manage to say. Why was he being so genuine?
The corner of his mouth twitched, “If I'd known being this nice to you would shut you up this easily, I would have started long ago.”
There it was. The joke he couldn't help but get in. Hermione extracted herself from him and took several steps back, needing to put some space between them so she could think clearly.
“Why?” she asked, her eyes searching his face, looking for any sort of clue that this was a trap, another of his jokes.
“Why what?” he countered, “Why would I want to shut you up?”
“No, why are you being nice? And why did you hug me?”
He shrugged, “Like you said, I did make you tell, and I am sorry for that. I hugged you because I felt like you needed it and I'm being nice because, like I've told you a few times recently, I'm trying to be.”
“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” she mumbled, remembering how the last time he'd said he was being nice to her he had her pinned up against a wall.
Malfoy chuckled, “Old habits die hard, Granger, plus you make it too damn easy to ruffle your feathers.”
She rolled her eyes, “Whatever, Malfoy,” and tried to stifle a yawn that was sneaking up on her, “I'm going back to bed for another hour. Don't wake me up this time.”
He smirked as she walked past him, “Wouldn't dream of it.”
She sighed internally as she closed her door behind her. At least he was back to being sarcastic and teasing her. That she could deal with. Which, in itself was odd. That a teasing, sarcastic Malfoy was the new normal. She didn't enjoy it all the time, far from it, but it was way better than the Malfoy of her childhood. He had been a downright evil git. How could so much have changed so quickly?
She crawled under the covers fully clothed, just in case he decided to ignore her warning and barge in again. She didn't think he would, but she wasn't taking any chances. She didn't want to give him any more opportunities to catch her off guard and in her pajamas.
--***--
Hermione woke later feeling much more awake than she had when Malfoy barged in on her earlier that morning. Glancing at the clock she realized she had slept much longer than she'd intended too, it was well past lunchtime now. She stretched lazily under the covers and stared at the curtains surrounding her four post bed. She lay there silently listening, and it took her a minute to realize she was listening for the sound of the baby crying. Huffing angrily she got up and made her way to the bathroom to shower, hoping to drown her paranoia with hot water and soap.
As the hot water hit her back and cascaded down her body she let her mind churn over all the things that had happened already today. It felt like an eon ago that Malfoy had heard the baby too, but it had only been last night. Less than 24 hours ago and she had experienced so many emotions since then, almost all at the hands of Malfoy. And he had hugged her. Actually, legitimately hugged her. A tear slid down her check and she scrubbed it away forcefully, unsure of what emotion caused the tear in the first place. Anger? Frustration? Fear? Guilt? Why was the fact that he hugged her affecting her this much?
A hiccup escaped her lips and she slid to the floor, letting the water run down her face, trying to mask the tears that were now freely falling. She thought all this inner turmoil would be gone now that the war was over. She thought she would be able to think clearly, without panicking now that she wasn't fighting to stay alive. Clearly, she had been wrong, and she couldn't blame Malfoy entirely for that, which only made her cry harder.
What felt like hours later Hermione exited the bathroom, calmer than she had been in a long time. After crying herself out she had methodically started to catalogue her emotions and where they stemmed from as she scrubbed every inch of herself. She didn't necessarily know what to do with those emotions, but knowing why she felt a certain way helped her calm down.
The easiest one to pin point was her anger. Anger towards Malfoy for making her tell that she – they – were hearing things. She didn't want the professors to think that the war had left her incapable of performing her duties adequately. Sure, the war had changed her, it had changed all of them, but the same things still drove her. She still wanted to learn as much as she could and do as well as she could at everything.
The fear tied into that too. She was scared that something had snapped in her brain and she was making up hearing this baby. Scared that others would judge her if they found out. The fact that Malfoy had now heard it too, was reassuring in a small way. The chances of her going crazy greatly diminished solely by the fact that he heard the same thing as her.
Which brought her to the frustration. She was frustrated that it was Malfoy that seemed to be the pivotal point in determining her sanity right now, especially since he did so many things to drive her crazy. Because he thought it was fun. Which brought her full circle back to the anger, because she was angry at him for putting her through what he had this year. But frustratingly enough, she was also relieved that he wasn't being as mean as he had been to her in the past.
Walking past the windows Hermione glanced down at the grounds and saw two figures on the lawns below. Pausing as she realized one of them had bright blond hair, she peered closer. Malfoy was standing in the middle of the grass, watching a smaller figure with black hair ride around on a broom. Realizing he must be helping Maya with her flying again, she turned to the couch and grabbed a few pillows, shoving them onto the wide window ledge as she climbed onto it, getting comfortable. This relationship between them intrigued her, since it was so hard to think of Malfoy being that nice to anybody, let alone a first year. She just had to study them while they worked, unaware that she was watching them intently.
As she watched Malfoy dodge out of the way as Maya accidentally swerved to far to the right on her way past him, Hermione thought back to his hug and the biggest emotion it had evoked in her after the shock of it had worn off. Guilt. She still wasn't a hundred percent sure why she felt guilty. The only thing she could come up with was that she had actually found it comforting, once he had apologized. That for an infinitesimal second she had liked it, liked the feel of his arms wrapped around her. She was still arguing with herself about the fact that she liked it only because it showed he was being nice, like he said he was trying to. Because any other option felt like a betrayal to Harry and Ron, particularly Ron. And she would never, ever do that. As it was, she knew they would never understand even the weird – for lack of a better word – relationship, that her and Malfoy had developed in the last few weeks. She could see that Malfoy was trying to change, but she wasn't sure that the boys would. And that alone made her feel a bit guilty. That she was starting to see Malfoy as a person, not just an enemy, and she knew the boys would never understand that.
She chuckled to herself as Malfoy had to grab the front of the broom that was suddenly spinning towards him. Poor Maya fell from the broom and tumbled onto the grass, laying spread eagle as she started at the sky. Malfoy leaned over her and was obviously talking to the girl. She smiled up at him, making Hermione wonder what he was saying. She shook her head, his treatment of this girl baffled her. He wasn't this nice to anyone else, she wasn't even sure he had noticed the other first years, even the ones from his own house.
Hermione watched him extend a hand to the child and pull her off the ground, throwing an arm around her shoulders as they made their way back up to the castle. As they disappeared from her sight she shifted her focus to the sun shining off the lake. The sun was low, making her glance at the clock. It was almost time for dinner. Despite having missed lunch and being remarkable hungry, she didn't much feel like joining her friends in the great hall though, not just yet. She leaned her head against the window, knees tucked up to her chest. Maybe in a few minutes she would go down.
---***---
Granger was still sitting on the window ledge when Draco entered the common room, Maya and a house elf carrying a huge tray behind him. He had noticed her watching him help Maya with her flying, and had had a hard time keeping the smirk off his face. That patch of lawn had been purposefully picked by him, on the off chance that she looked out the window when she woke up. What he hadn't expected was for her to actually sit there and watch them for the rest of their session, but it made him do an internal dance of glee. He had been right when he'd suspected that befriending Maya would peek Granger's curiosity. He just hadn't known how much at the time.
He felt her eyes on him and knew she had questions, but he ignored her, waving the house elf towards the coffee table, “Just there is fine.”
Draco caught her move slightly out of the corner of his eye and glanced in her direction. Her eyes narrowed and she turned her body to look between him and the house elf. Remembering her obsession one year with freeing the house elves he quickly thanked the creature as an after thought. The house elf bobbed a quick curtsy and disappeared with a crack.
Her eyes flew back to him and he saw the corner of her mouth twitch into an almost smile. He focused on her a little more. She looked exhausted and her eyes were puffy, which made him strongly suspect she'd been crying. He glanced at Maya, shuffling her feet near the door, he'd have to figure out why Granger had been crying later.
He moved to the tray and pulled off the cover, showing a couple dishes with food and drink on them. Granger visibly brightened at the sight of the food.
“We ran into McGonagall on our way up here and she said she would have dinner delivered, in case we weren't up to eating in the great hall tonight.” He turned to face Granger again, “I hope you don't mind that I brought Maya, she needs some help with some homework and I figured it would be easier to just bring her along rather than try to find her later.”
She slid off the window sill and approached the couch, settling onto one end, “It's fine, that does make sense.”
She then turned to the little girl, still hovering by the door, “Hi, Maya, I don't think we've officially met, I'm Hermione.”
“Hi,” Maya said edging closer.
“Would you like to come sit next to me? I promise I don't bite.”
Maya nodded eagerly and settled onto the couch beside Granger, taking the plate of food she offered her and digging in enthusiastically.
Trying to hide a smile, Granger couldn't help but chuckle, “Hungry?”
Maya nodded, “Flying always makes me hungry! I think it's the fear of falling and all that adrenaline coursing through my veins! So nerve wracking!”
Granger let herself smile for real this time, “Flying makes me very nervous too,” she confided.
Draco grinned internally as he grabbed a plate of food and sat in the arm chair, watching Granger and the little girl closely. He knew she wouldn't be able to help trying to befriend Maya, she needed everyone's approval.
“Really?” Maya's eyes got huge, “But you are so good at everything!”
Granger gave the girl a sad smile, “I'm not that good at everything.”
“Draco thinks you are,” she mumbled around a mouthful of food.
Draco nearly chocked on his own food and had to swallow quickly, schooling his face into a mask of indifference as Granger looked at him sharply. He had not been expecting Maya to say that, sure he'd said to talk him up, but not that blatantly.
He shrugged, outwardly calm as his heart rate threatened to run a marathon, “I may have mentioned you were top of most of our classes.”
Granger narrowed her eyes at him.
“What?” he groused, not looking away from her, “So, maybe I was also hoping if she thought you were the best at everything she'd talk you into helping with her homework tonight and I could go relax. Teaching her to fly is exhausting!”
She shook her head, “Of course you would have a selfish reason for complimenting someone else.”
“Come on, Granger, her homework is history of magic and I know you find that shit fascinating. I would be bored out of my mind, and do you really think she'll learn from someone who can't stand the material?”
He held his breath as she pursed her lips, clearly thinking. Please let her say yes, not only because he wanted them to have the opportunity to bond and for Maya to start changing Granger's mind about him, but he really, really, didn't want to go over history of magic with Maya. He hadn't been lying, that shit was boring.
“Fine,” she sighed, turning to Maya, “He is right you know, you will probably learn much better from someone who finds the material interesting. Would you be okay with me going over it with you?”
Maya shook her head vigorously, putting her empty plate back on the tray, “I don't care who helps me, as long as someone does.” She shot a sheepish glance towards Draco, before turning back to Granger “I also find it boring so having someone make it interesting would be nice.”
Draco clapped his hands, “Perfect! While you two do that, I'm going to hop in the shower! Not only is teaching you to fly exhausting, but it's actually quite sweaty work dodging you all the time.”
Maya hung her head a little, making Granger glare at him.
Just as she was about to say something he stood with a wink and bolted to the bathroom, “Thanks, Granger, I owe you!”
---***---
Hermione glared at Malfoy's retreating back, how could he say something like that! He just didn't think, did he? Clearly the little girl was upset by what he'd said about her flying. She shook her head, turning back to Maya, she just didn't understand him.
“Don't pay any attention to what he said, Maya, he's just being a pratt and doesn't think before he speaks sometimes. I'm sure you're not that bad.”
Maya shook her head sadly, “No, he's right, I'm terrible at flying. Even my brothers are better at flying than I am, and they're practically babies.”
“How old are they?” Hermione asked, setting her empty plate down on the coffee table.
“Six, both of them, they're twins. Ernest and Arthur.”
Hermione swallowed thickly. Twins. Her thoughts turned to the twins she had been closest to and how now there was only one. Refusing to cry again today, she cleared her throat and blinked quickly, “Why don't you grab your books and we'll start on this homework?”
Thankfully, Maya didn't seem to notice her brief lapse in control, instead she jumped up and dashed across the common room to her bag that she'd left near the door. Returning with a stack of books, she set them on the coffee table and settled on the floor, parchment and quill in hand.
Hermione examined the books, one was the first year textbook for history of magic, but the others were clearly from the library. Her essay must be on the gargoyle strike of 1911, since most of the books had something to do with that topic. She smiled at the girl, “At least you came prepared, these are good choices.”
Maya grinned, “Draco picked them, we stopped at the library on our way up here, he said you would want them if you agreed to help me.”
“Did he?” Hermione turned over one of the books in her hands, contemplating it, unsure whether to be impressed he had indeed picked most of the books she would have, or annoyed that passing Maya off to her had clearly been his plan all along.
Again, poor Maya was oblivious to her mental dilemma, “He's been the best thing that's happened to me since I got on the train in London. I was so scared to start here, and he's helped me so many times. He's kind of like the big brother I never had, but always wanted. That's why I don't mind him teasing me about my flying, I know I'm terrible, but I know he doesn't mean it in a mean way. Just a fun way.”
Hermione furrowed her brow at the book, beyond confused. How could the person Maya was describing be the same Draco Malfoy she had known for years? Even the one she had started to see him change into these last few weeks was still more like her childhood tormentor than the helpful, tolerant brotherly figure Maya was describing. He was still an ass a lot of the time.
“Is he really that nice to you?” The words were out of her mouth before she realized it. She blushed profusely and was glad Maya didn't seem to notice, and that Malfoy wasn't here for this conversation.
“He's the best,” Maya sighed, unrolling her parchment and pressing it flat on the table, “He's the person that's been the nicest to me since I got here.”
Again, Hermione felt like they weren't talking about the same person, but she knew they were, which was a very confusing feeling. Deciding to analyze it later, she placed the book she was holding back on the table and got down to business.
“Let's start with you telling me what you know about gargoyle's,” she said picking up a second book and flipping through it.
---***---
Draco was startled from his musings when his bedroom door banged open and someone raced across the room towards him. He hastily shoved the book he'd been reading behind the pillow of the chair he was sitting in, schooling his face into a calm expression.
Arms were thrown around his neck and black hair hit his face, tickling his nose. “Thanks for helping me today, Draco, and for suggesting Hermione help with my gargoyle essay, she did make it interesting!”
Catching a glimpse of Granger scrutinizing them from his doorway he smirked as he put his arms around the small girl, “No problem, Maya, glad we could help. Are you all finished?”
Maya leaned back and looked up at him with adoring eyes, “Yup! And Hermione said she would walk me back to my dorm so I don't get lost again.”
“I can do that Granger,” he said. He kind of wanted to see how their conversation had gone anyway. Just how much had they said about him?
Granger waved her hand at him dismissively, “It's fine, I have some books I need to return to the library anyway, so I told her we'd take hers back on the way out. Maya just wanted to say good night before she left or we wouldn't have bothered you at all.”
Maya hugged him tighter again, leaning in conspiratorially, “She's soooo nice, Draco!” she whispered, “No wonder you love her! I do too!”
Draco sputtered, “I... ugh, I don't...”
But Maya was already gone, dashing across the room again and taking Granger's hand as they made their way across the common room, leaving Draco flabbergasted and alone to seeth at the implication that he loved Granger. He absolutely did not! If anything it was the opposite! That was the reason he came up with this whole plan. To destroy her! Because he hated her, hated her being perfect and smart and beautiful and like she thought she was too good for him. He hated her friends. He hated everything to do with her! He did NOT love her!
Draco sighed and dropped his head back onto the chair, closing his eyes. But of course Maya would think that. He was pretending, after all, to like Granger and he'd told Maya that he liked her. That he wanted Granger to like him back. Of course Granger would win her over, and he wasn't surprised that Maya had clearly started idolizing her. The chit seemed to like anyone who was nice to her, himself included.
Deciding not to let the girl's comment bother him, he stood and made his way out of his room. If anything it proved he was doing a good job acting, pretending that he did, in fact, like Granger. Time to do a bit more and see if he could figure out why she'd been crying this afternoon. After all, that's what friends did right? Asked questions and talked about things when one of them was upset? And if he got a little bit of flirting and seduction in too that would just be a bonus.
---***---
There was tea and cookies on the coffee table by the time Hermione got back from walking Maya home and Malfoy was sitting on the couch, book in one hand, steaming mug of tea in the other. He glanced up and smiled as she entered. That smile alone was enough to set her on edge, it looked genuine and she didn't know what that meant.
“Want some?'
She couldn't help it, she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, “Isn't it a little late for tea?”
“Relax, it's caffeine free. Think of it as a thank you for helping Maya with that essay, I so did not want to!”
Hermione stood there staring at the tray on the table, trying to understand what it meant. It couldn't only be a thank you, could it. Maya may have said he was the nicest person here, but Hermione knew better. This was Malfoy, he didn't do nice things. Not to her anyway.
“Granger, it's tea,” he sighed, “not poison.”
Hermione sighed, a warm mug of tea did sound nice, and she had done some thinking on the way back, deciding that she really did need to try to be nice to Malfoy and see if it made a difference in how he acted towards her. He was nice to Maya, but Maya adored him, maybe if she was also nice to him, maybe just maybe, they could start to get along. She admitted to herself it would be nice to not be constantly on edge around the person she not only shared head duties with, but a living space as well. But old habits clearly are hard to break and she couldn't help that the first thought that entered her mind when he smiled and offered tea was that it was a trap.
“Granger?”
Hermione shook herself out of her thoughtful daze, noting the look on his face. If she didn't know him better she would have called it friendly concern. She scoffed to herself silently as she took a cup and tucked her feet up under herself as she sat on the other end of the couch.
“Thanks, Malfoy, it has been a long day and tea would actually be nice.”
He casually took a sip of his own tea, “I noticed you seemed pretty drained when we came in with dinner. Everything okay?”
Hermione focused on her tea, feeling the warm liquid flow down her throat and settle in her belly, “Yeah, I was just tired and a bit emotional after last night and this morning.”
There was no way in hell she was going to tell him that she'd been crying her eyes out in the shower for hours. He may be being nice to her, but she wasn't about to tell him everything like she would her friends. She leaned forward and grabbed a cookie, munching on it slowly, lost in thought, wondering if she would have told the boys about crying like that if they'd been here. She suspected she wouldn't have. Even though they were so close, there were just some things you don't tell even best friends and blubbering like a baby trying to drown your tears in a shower seemed to be one of them.
A hand came to rest on the back of her neck, and she froze. Malfoy had put down his book and tea and moved closer, much closer. She turned her head so she was face to face with him, staring into his grey-blue eyes. What was he playing at now? He was staring at her so intently it was making her squirm internally.
“Malfoy -” she started, but inhaled sharply when his fingers squeezed lightly and moved to her far shoulder, massaging as they moved.
She cleared her throat and tried again, not breaking eye contact with him, “Malfoy, what are you doing?”
He didn't say anything, he just smirked causing her heart rate to increase, as he reached for her half drunk tea and placed it back on the coffee table. Then he brought his hand up to the shoulder closest to him, pushing it at the same time as he pulled her other shoulder, forcing her body to turn away from him.
Hermione chewed the inside of her lip, as his fingers worked on the muscles of her shoulders, torn between yelling at him to stop touching her and letting him continue because, dear lord, that felt amazing.
After a few minutes his hands moved lower, teasing out the knots in her back as he went and Hermione realized it was now too late to say something. She had already been sitting here enjoying it for too long, saying something now would make it awkward. She swallowed lightly as he pushed her shoulders forward, encouraging her to lean on the arm rest so he could reach her lower back easily.
His hands were firm and warm, and Hermione was amazed at how good he was at this. Who knew that the pompous Draco Malfoy could be so good at giving a massage. But then again, she mused, there was that one time he had massaged her feet and that had felt amazing too. So should she really be surprised? No, the surprising part was that he was doing it at all.
Between the tea, the long emotional day she'd had and his hands working magic on her, Hermione felt more relaxed than she had in ages. She couldn't help it, she sighed deeply and rested her head on her arms.
After a few more minutes she felt him slide even closer to her as his hands travelled back up her back to her neck and she briefly thought about telling him to stop, that this was inappropriate. She could feel his leg pressed against her butt. She should really care, if anyone walked in on them like this there would be so many questions. But she didn't care, not right now.
Malfoy pulled her up from the arm rest and back towards him as his fingers slid into her hair, rubbing gentle, but firm circles on her scalp. Hermione groaned lightly and leaned her head back into his hands. That felt so good.
A soft chuckle from behind her registered in her brain, making her realize she had almost fully collapsed backwards into him. “Malfoy -” she breathed, trying to sit forward, ready to tell him to stop.
One of his hands slid around to the top of her head, firmly pressing it back into his shoulder as he continued his ministrations. His other grazed down her left arm, sending a shiver through her.
Another shiver travelled down her spine as she felt his warm breath near her ear.
“Feels good, doesn't it?” he murmured.
Hermione could actually feel his lips move against her ear when he said that and that just wasn't right! She tried to wiggle her head out of his grasp, “Malfoy, you should stop.”
She heard him swallow. Gods, he was so close to her she could hear and feel everything he did! Was that her imagination or did his tongue graze her ear lobe as he licked his lips.
“Should? Or have to?” came his reply, his left hand starting to graze back up her arm.
And that motion snapped Hermione out of her stupor, that motion felt entirely too sensual. Too intimate. A massage she could explain to anyone who asked questions. Letting his fingers ghost along her bare skin was another matter entirely.
“Have to,” she stated firmly, sitting up forcefully and wrenching herself out of his grip and off the couch, glaring at him.
“Suit yourself, Granger,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, settling back onto the couch comfortably. “Deny it all you want, but that felt amazing, didn't it?”
“So, what if it did. That doesn't make it okay,” she said angrily, resting her hands on her hips.
Malfoy smirked, “You had a rough day, I thought you could use a little help relaxing, nothing wrong with that.”
Hermione shifted restlessly. Was he right? Was that all that had been? A way to help her relax? She had definitely needed that, to relax that is, but was that really the way to go about it?
Malfoy suddenly stood and stepped right up to her, “Unless you wanted it to mean something more than that.”
And there was that dangerous edge to his voice that Hermione couldn't handle, the one that made him sound entirely too sinful. That tone that set her nerves on edge. She shook her head, “Ugh, Malfoy, just – just no.”
He took another half step forward and she had to suck in a breath as his hand came up and grasped her chin, tilting her face to look him in the eyes. Her heart did a little stutter step, but she told herself it was the nerves. She was nervous he was this close, that was the only explanation.
“No need to sound disgusted, Granger, I heard you groan when my fingers were in your hair.”
Hermione's face flamed and she jerked away from him, “Oh my god, Malfoy! That was not what that was!”
She started towards her room, needing to be as far away from him as she could right now. She could hear him walking after her. What was his problem tonight?
“Yeah right, Granger,” he snorted, “then what was that noise you made while you were basically leaning into me?”
If Hermione could have melted into the floor from shame she would have. She didn't know why she done that, leaned into him. Why she had allowed him to do that to her. It had felt good and she'd just let him do as he pleased. What had she been thinkging?
She reached her door and turned to glare at him, “It was nothing, Malfoy! Nothing that meant anything. Now leave me alone!”
She slammed the door, leaning back against the wood, her mind racing. What had that been? Why had she let him give her a massage like that? She couldn't even begin to come up with an answer. Her nerves were too fried after today, clearly she wasn't thinking rationally. At all.
A fist hit the door making her jump, “Granger!”
Hermione sighed, he seriously just would not take a hint. “What, Malofy?”
“Sweet dreams.”
Her heart did another little stupid stutter and she closed her eyes, wishing the floor would swallow her whole. Then she heard his footsteps walk away from her door and after a minute or two heard his bedroom door close. She hastily locked her own door and raced to her bed, crawling in without undressing and hugged a pillow to her chest. What was wrong with her?
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