Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Hermione Granger and the wishing stone	By : fatedsoul Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 33389 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the characters or the world and I am making no money off this story. I just think it's fun to Play with poor little Draco and Hermione. ^^

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
A/N: Sorry for the delay on this chapter. This is one of only a few chapters that I have written that actually takes a moment to look at things from Draco's point of view. Hope you enjoy it and as always, please rate and review. I really do love hearing from you.

<3

Envy

***

Music filled the hall, which had been decorated for the occasion with floating Jack-o-lanterns, and black candles topped with flickering red flames. The ceiling had been charmed to show the moon as a small sliver, turned on its side and smiling down at the students gathered inside. The stars above it twinkling in such a way that it gave the impression that it wasn’t the moon but the Cheshire cat smiling down at them.

Hermione barely had time to take in the decor before everyone but Draco had disappeared into the crowd.

Bekka had intercepted a very unhappy Potter on her way to the dance floor, taking the dark haired boy by the the elbow as she walked and pulling him along with her.

Hermione would have to remember to thank her, she really wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with the dark haired boy and his unwanted advances.

“Hermione,” the way her name fell from Draco’s lips caused a shiver to run down her spine.

She knew if she turned around that he’d be looking it her with that look, fire smouldering inside thunderstorm grey orbs. The look that melted her resolve, the look that twisted inside her and made her want to be in his arms. Even as she turned to face him she knew she shouldn’t.

He smiled at her, that sweet tentative smile that was meant for only her. The smile that made no attempt to hide his emotions. “Would you care to dance?” He asked, offering his hand to her.

Taking his hand she couldn’t help the smile that graced her features. “I would be honored.”

He swept her onto the dance floor with all the poise and elegance that she expected a pureblood wizard to have, one hand snaking around her waist as the other curled around hers.

The music that assaulted her senses was neither the gentle hum of a melody nor was it the harsh beat of rock.

The other dancers kept their bodies closely pressed as their forms slipped and ground against each other, or they kept their distance, dancing together yet separately.

For a single breath Hermione almost envies the sweaty masses who danced as if the act itself was sex. The thought of Draco’s hard muscled body pressed against her caused heat to pool in her center.

The soft snicker that left the blond caused her gaze to leave the other dancers and focus fully on his sharp features. He’d also been watching the others and when his eyes fell back to hers, there was mischief playing in their depths. “Lets show them how it should be done.” He offered before his grip tightened slightly and he spun them into a waltz.

The feeling of jealousy melted as they moved, each step was measured against the beat of the music, his grip on her firm and gentle at the same time, demanding and caressing, their hands curled perfectly together.

If Hermione had considered the grinding gyrations of the other students something akin to sex in its most primal form, then what she shared with Draco, there in the Great Hall for all to see, could only be classified as making love.

The world around them melted, leaving only the warmth of his hand on the small of her back, the lingering smell of his soaps, mingling so perfectly with her own, and the intensity of his storm grey gaze that never wavered from her. She was lost, willingly and happily falling into that storm that raged only for her.

“‘Mione, I know you still don’t remember everything we’ve gone through together, everything we’ve done. I know you may never remember. But it doesn’t change the fact that I love you and want to be with you.” His voice was soft, barely audible above the music pounding around them and yet she’d heard him clear as day.

She’d feared this day since the moment she had woken up in the world she’d created, yet as the days had passed she’d also wanted it. Wanted his full declaration of his feelings for her, wanted the chance to allow herself to feel the heat that radiated off him whenever they were together. “You can’t start a relationship with another person if they don’t trust you enough to tell you their secrets.”

“I’ll tell you everything. I’ll tell you why I don’t cast, why I don’t fight back when Potter and Weasley attack.” He swore, vulnerability showing through the storm. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know after the dance, just promise me you’ll think about it.”

She had almost forgotten that there were parts of himself the blond had yet to share, her words had been a warning to him, not a demand for information. She had been the one lying to him. In that moment, as he swore to share with her something that seemed to cause him untold shame, she realized that she had to tell him. Tell him what she had done, tell him why she didn’t remember their adventures. If he was going to be honest with her about everything, she would do the same. She would come clean, and if, after the revelation had hit him, if he still wanted her, she would gladly have him. “Alright.”

The relief that flooded his features, lit him from the inside out and the smile that twitched at the corners of his mouth made her think he intended to kiss her.

“The fact that you even touch that mudblood is so revolting Draco.” The voice was like nails on a chalk board, shrill and filled with an air of superiority.

The snarl that left Draco rumbled through her and before Hermione knew what was going on she found herself behind him. “Don’t you ever call her that again Parkinson.”

The dark haired girl waved off the comment as if it hadn’t been said with enough malice to curdle milk. “You and I need to talk Draco, now.” She stated, her left hand moving to rest of her hip. The beads if her dress clicking as they collided. The Slythrin was dressed as a 1920’s flapper, the short beaded green dress swaying against her thighs with every breath she took, a single peacock feather curling up from the back of her head.

“I’m busy Parkinson.” He snapped, still using his body as a shield between Hermione and the other girl as if he expected them to jump at each other’s throats.

“Do I sound like I was asking Draco. We NEED to talk Now.” She stressed the words of her demand as if he hadn’t understood her the first time.

Well muscled shoulders dropped slightly and he turned back to face Hermione. “I’m sorry ‘Mione. I’ll make this as quick as I can. I wont be gone long.”

“Draco...” Confusion filled her and colored her features as she looked between the blond and the darker haired girl. Draco’s eyes were filled with a mixture of dread and shame while Pansy made no attempt to hide the snide smile that curled against her thin lips.

He swallowed before moving to close the distance between them, once again looking as if he meant to bring his lips to hers. The thought caused Hermione’s heart to pound against her ribs.

The disgusted huff that left Pansy made Hermione want to hex her hair out, but the sound had caused Draco to visibly stiffen, and the show of affection became a gentle peck on the cheek.

“I’ll be back soon.” He whispered, though the words lacked conviction. Without pausing he turned from her and followed Pansy out of the Great Hall.

Hermione stood, dumbfounded, and watched the blond retreat. He had asked her out, had once again claimed he loved her, offered to tell her all of his secrets. For that moment, on a dance floor filled with people, he’d made her feel special. Like she was the only person, the only thing, that mattered to him. Yet in the next breath he had left her cold and alone to trail after another woman.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as her gaze drifted from the empty doorway to the crowds around her who still dance, completely oblivious to the pain that filled her soul. Her body felt heavy as she moved from the place she and Draco had occupied to an empty table at the far end of the Great Hall.

Every ounce of joy she had felt, every brimming drop of hope for happiness in the world she had created had been shattered, becoming jagged shards of sorrow that ripped at her veins and tore apart her heart. She had managed to allow herself to fall in love with a man who chose Pansy Parkinson over her.

*

Guilt Twisted in Draco’s stomach as he followed Pansy to the small hidden room behind the suit of armor by the stairs leading down to the dungeons. He knew he should have said his peace to her in the Great Hall, consequences be damned, but the idea that the conniving slut could tell Hermione his secret before he could come clean had caused him to follow her.

“You are SO pathetic Draco.” She chided, seating herself on the only piece of furniture in the room, an over stuffed high backed chair of cherry wood and emerald velvet.

He hated that chair, “I’m done Parkinson. Tell anyone you want what you think you know abut me. I’m not going to play this game with you anymore.”

The laughter that bubbled from her was cold enough to send chills down his spine. “It’s cute the way you think I need THAT to make you do what I want.”

Hate darkened the edge of his vision, not just for the dark haired woman in front of him, but for himself. Time and time again he had betrayed his feelings for Hermione, had lowered himself to obeying the commands of a girl he could not stand, all because he could not bring himself to own up to the truth.

“I have a MUCH more potent secret now Draco. Have ever since the first time you got on your knees for me.”

“She’d never believe you.”

“Oh no? I don’t think the story is that far fetched. The secretive Draco Malfoy, who ditches the little mud blood every time the beautiful pure blood heiress calls for him, is actually involved with her and is just using the dirty little know-it-all to get under Harry Potter’s skin.”

“Every word of that is a lie.” He seethed, hands fisting at his sides causing pain to radiate up his arms. “You are nothing more then an ugly pure blood bint who has been using what she thinks she knows to force me to do what she wants.”

“Regardless,” Pansy shrugged, her thighs spreading slowly. “You can’t deny what you’ve done without lying to her Draco. I tell her what you and I do when you ditch her for me, and she’ll never speak to you again.”

Pain lanced up his arms, a constant reminded of what he had to lose, of why he continued to roll over for the likes of Parkinson, Potter, and Weasley. As he dropped to his knees, shame extinguished the raging hate.

He had no right to ask for Hermione’s love, he was no more then a pawn in other people’s games. Yet all he wanted was the quick witted Gryffindor. The thought of her was the only thing that made his existence bearable. He would admit everything to her, after the dance he would tell her why he didn’t cast, and he would tell her about Parkinson, about why he allowed himself to be used by her, and what he had done. Then, even if she never wanted to speak to him again, there wouldn’t be any more secrets, there wouldn’t be anything left for anyone to hold over his head.

*

Hermione found herself watching the door to the Great Hall, the music continued to pound against her senses and the people around her continued to dance and talk. Laughter filtered through the music from time to time, but none of it reached the brunette. On three different occasions as she scanned the crowds she had caught sight of Pansy Parkinson, yet there was still no sign of Draco.

“Why are you sitting here all by yourself Hermione?” Ginny’s voice broke through the buzzing fear and uncertainty that had filled Hermione’s senses.

Finally turning her attention to the red head she tried her best to smile. “Draco went somewhere with Parkinson a while ago. He said he’d be right back but…”

Confusion colored the other girl’s features for a moment before she shrugged and sat down next to her. Neville joining them before another word could be said. “I’m sure it’s nothing big. You know how Parkinson thinks she’s the queen of all Slytherin. She’s probably just mad about what duties she has as prefect.”

Relief washed over Hermione as the words sunk past the fear. It was a completely logical explanation. Parkinson was known for her fit throwing, and Draco wouldn’t have wanted her making a scene in the middle of the dance. Ginny had remained the loyal friend that she had been in the world that had been, helping Hermione find the simplest explanation and sooth her irrational fears. Yet a few splinters of uncertainty remained. “You’re probably right. But, he isn’t back yet. She’s here, I saw her talking to Bekka and your brother earlier, then again talking to Nott. He finally asked me out and now I feel like he’s avoiding me.”

“Maybe he’d planning on coming clean to you Hermione.” Neville’s voice broke into the conversations, a low relaxed rumble.

Hermione and Ginny both turned their attention to the dark haired man who was still charmed to look like he belonged in the lake rather then at the dance.

“He said he’d tell me everything.” Hermione admitted. “But why would that cause him to avoid me?”

“He’s probably not avoiding you. He’d probably trying to get the nerve up to do what he has to do. To say what he needs to say. You can’t just keep a secret for your entire life and then not feel a sense of apprehension when it comes time to tell someone.” He offered with a shrug.

“I still hate the fact that you know something and wont tell me.” Ginny huffed, pouting at him.

“I have no right to tell anyone. I had no right to know to begin with. It was just something that once it was said, it couldn’t be taken back.”

“One of these days Neville, after Draco and I talk, you and I are going to have to discuss how you came to know this secret.” Hermione stated.

“You, and me can have as long a talk as you want when the time comes ‘Mione. But I’m not saying a word about anything until Malfoy tells you himself.”

She nodded, watching as Ginny pressed into his side. Once again sorrow bubbled through her, she wanted that kind of pure uninhibited love. Yet even as her own longings filled her she couldn’t help but find happiness at the sight. In the world that was Ginny had been madly in love with Harry who had never shown her the kind of desire and love that radiated from Neville whenever he was near the red head.

“I have no idea what is going on, but I’m thinking it’s boring.” Bekka’s voice filled Hermione’s ears moments before the dark haired girl’s weight settled on her lap.

“We were talking about the fact that Draco finally asked Hermione out.” Ginny offered.

The raven haired girl’s features lit with excitement as she twisted from her perch on Hermione’s lap to hug her around the neck. “Congratulations ‘Mione. I knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out on you forever. Not with you being such a smart, sexy witch. So where is the blond bombshell so I can tell him that it’s about damn time.”

“He went to speak with Parkinson and hasn’t come back yet, though she’s around. I actually saw her speaking to you a little while ago. What were you two talking about?” Hermione asked, once again feeling a little pang of sorrow.

“I was talking to Parkinson?” The raven haired girl shrugged and stood. “I have no idea, honestly I have been chatting it up with a lot of people tonight. Don’t remember saying to words to that twit, but who knows. She may have been part of some conversation or another. Anyway, enough talk. I want to dance.” Her gaze shifted from Hermione to Ginny and she held out her hands to the other girl. “Come on hot stuff, lets tango.”

Ginny giggled and placed her hands in the other girl’s allowing her to pull her to her feet. “Make sure and watch closely love, I don’t want you to miss a thing.” She called to Neville as she was drug towards the group of dancers.

Hermione couldn’t help the small smile that graced her lips as she watched the two girls. They were completely without fear or inhibition.

“That’s the first smile I’ve seen since Malfoy left with Parkinson earlier.” Harry’s voice was soft as he sat next to her.

Turning her attention to the dark haired boy that had once been her closest friend, she almost rolled her eyes at his choice in costume. Dressed in half plate mail that covered his chest and left arm, and deep green dragon hide tunic, pants and boots. A large shield was strapped to his back, covered in blackened bursts and long deep gashes. All he needed was a sword or axe and he would have looked every part the pictures of ancient dragon hunters. Hermione couldn’t help but feel slightly uneasy by the way he was looking at her. His gaze so focused it was almost as if he was trying to see through her and into her soul. “Hello Potter.”

“You know, if you’d let me take you to this thing, I wouldn’t have left you alone to go snog some flat nosed bint.” He offered.

“He didn’t leave to snog Parkinson.” She snapped, though the thought had caused unease to rise in her chest. Draco had been gone for almost half an hour, yet Harry, who had gone to the social with Bekka purely as friends had stayed with his date until she had gone to dance with Ginny.

“If you say so. Doesn’t really matter though. I didn’t come over here to fight with you. I just wanted to talk.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“A lot of stuff. Would you be willing to get away from all these crowds and just take a walk with me? I’ll be able to explain myself better if I’m not trying to yell over the music.”

A part of her set off warning alarms in her head, Harry had been making unwanted advances on her from the beginning. Yet, she had known him since they were kids. He had been her best friend, had always been there for her. The idea that he would, that he could, cause her any harm was completely absurd. “Alright. But Just for a little bit. I’m waiting for Draco after all.”

He nodded and stood, offering his hand out to her.

Taking the offered hand she allowed him to help her to her feet and then followed him through the crowd, her eyes scanning every inch of the Great Hall for any sign of Draco.
- 12
- 13
- 14
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Hermione Granger and the wishing stone