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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
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Hermione was very rarely frustrated with the magical world. There were so many wonderful uses for magic, and the science of it was so fascinating it kept her up reading for nights on end sometimes. However, at times like this, she wondered why the amazing power of magic couldn't be harnessed to create a cell phone alternative, so she could shoot Draco a quick text message.
She knew on some level she was being irrational. Lucius Malfoy might be the bane of the Wizarding World, but he was Draco's father, and he had managed to survive seventeen years living with him. Still, she couldn't help but be nervous. Draco had certainly never in his seventeen years done anything as rebellious as declaring that he wanted to date a muggle-born and to hell with their family tradition. He was usually pretty big on upholding the dignity of the Malfoy name. Lucius might just lose it completely.
If she was honest with herself, she was just as worried that Lucius would get Draco to change his mind and this wonderful new relationship would be over before they really had a chance to enjoy it. The thought of Draco breaking up with her had her so anxious she was twisting her hands.
She was frustrated about other things as well. Lucius had the absolute worst timing on the planet. One second she'd had Draco's taste on her lips and his hands in her hair. Drowning in that unique way he made her feel. Like all the world had dropped dead and it was just the two of them. The next second Draco's father had intruded and dumped a lifetime's worth of baggage on her soul.
That seemed to be the source of the trouble. This thing with them...it was very fragile magic. Any outside interference seemed to wreak havoc on the delicate enchantment they were under. This was intricate and special and invasive. They needed to be fierce guardians of this new passion. Give it time to grow wild. She would not allow her friends, or his friends, or their families, or anyone to trample on the new growth of a masterpiece like this.
Hermione decided to go to dinner despite not being very hungry just to have something to occupy her - and almost immediately wished she had not. Padma for some reason had not attended dinner, and her twin Parvati was giving her the stink eye. Ron was sitting awfully close, but Parvati could go ahead and bite her. She had been friends with Ron for years, long before he had a girlfriend, and she was not going to allow Parvati to make her feel uncomfortable about that close friendship now.
So she made herself a tiny plate and took tiny bites and tried to ignore the girl. Finally, Parvati spoke up, and the tone of her voice could have chilled butterbeer. "So, Hermione, where is your boyfriend this evening?"
Could she be any less subtle? Hermione restrained herself just barely and managed not to roll her eyes. She took a delicate mouthful of fruit and made Parvati wait while she chewed and swallowed. "Draco is having dinner off campus with his father this evening."
Ron stiffened beside her just barely but said nothing, and Hermione smiled to herself. He may not like the whole Draco situation, but even he could be taught to keep his opinions mute. Parvati narrowed her eyes a bit and opened her mouth to say something else, but Colin Creevey a few seats down jumped in, and she was forestalled.
"That's right! I heard you ran into Mr. Malfoy today, Hermione. Was he terribly rude to you?" Hermione chewed her next bite while she remembered barely concealed sneers, condescending tones, and outright dismissal.
"No more than he is to anyone else, I suppose," she answered truthfully, giving Colin a small smile to show her appreciation for his concern. One would think that would be the end of the conversation, but when gossip was afoot, Lavender would have her say.
"Well sure, Draco was right there. I'm sure he was on his best behavior...whatever that is." Lavender smiled dreamily in Hermione's direction. "It's so terribly romantic how protective he is of you. Did you hear about that awful row he got into with Theodore Nott last week when he got disrespectful?"
"No actually, I hadn't heard," she answered, slightly floored. Romantic? People thought Draco was romantic?
"Did you see the flowers he sent her the other day? There were so many she could have filled the prefects bath with them three times over," Ginny added to the conversation, and Hermione put her fork down and just listened as the gossip continued. She had seen public opinion shift lightning fast before, case in point the Triwizard Tournament, but it was still eerie to see Draco's master plan play out in real time right before her eyes.
The mood at Gryffindor table had definitely gone ass over teakettle. All at once, Draco had gone from public enemy number one to a brave underdog fighting tooth and nail for love against his tyrannical father. It was unreal. She shared a look with Ginny who gave her a saucy wink, and Hermione smiled genuinely for the first time all afternoon.
She refused to be one of those girls who let her whole life be consumed by a boy, so she went on about her planned evening activities despite her increasing worry. Her meeting with Snape was predictably fraught with tension and slurs on her person and did nothing to put her into a better mood. Even the library offered little of it's usual solace. The calm peace and quiet was ruined by her loud thoughts. She found herself rushing to finish her assignments, a rarity for her. She felt like a nest of doxies had taken up residence in her stomach, and she couldn't concentrate on anything.
She even tried to go to bed early. Taking a quick shower, throwing her hair in a French braid and getting into her most comfy jammies - none of these rituals did a bit of good. She just stared at the ceiling in her room and worried. This wasn't necessarily a new feeling, she'd always been a worrier, and she had a feeling Draco Malfoy was going to cause her more grief than Harry and Ron ever had put together.
Hoping she wasn't blowing everything being a needy, clingy girl, Hermione tossed off her covers and went looking for her Gryffindor Golden slippers. She enveloped herself in Draco's lovely cloak for warmth and set a disillusionment charm before she left her room. The common room was full and noisy, and Hermione directed a fond glance at her boys, playing wizards chess by the fire.
At least someone wouldn't be up worrying tonight since the boys would think she was snug and safe in her bed. If anyone had been paying attention, they might have noticed the ripple in space of her moving through the room, but young people especially were unobservant, and she found a disillusionment charm to be satisfactory most of the time. She doubted she would have any trouble with the Slytherin dormitories as long as she didn't run into Snape.
Draco stood in the shower so long the water ran cold, letting the hard drops beat the back of his neck until he began to shiver. He felt emotionally wrung out and needy.
He wanted Hermione.
He wanted to go to Gryffindor tower and try to figure out how to sneak in, find her bed and just curl up with her. Hold her until everything bad and confusing and wrong in his life faded into the background and all that was left was her sleepy sighs and indecently soft skin and sweet scent.
How could he be her boyfriend? He didn't even know where the girl slept.
It was late anyway, and she had told him she would see him on the morrow. He just needed to suck it up and go to bed. Even if he did know where she was, he had no right to go barging in on her sleeping and demand her time and attention. Pansy used to pull that nonsense. The last thing he needed to be was clingy and needy. She'd run in the other direction.
He'd expected to feel powerful and elated. He'd fantasized about this moment for years. He'd stood up to his father and held his ground, and his father had even conceded some things. He'd made actual progress in etching out a future for himself outside of the Death Eater legacy.
Instead, he felt anxious and weird. The whole thing felt incomplete. He was still waiting for the big slap down. The big lecture. It was a let down. Like he'd dived through a rainstorm to catch the snitch, but when he looked, all he had was a fist of air and empty victory.
He was back at Hogwarts, his father was back at home, and his future was untethered for the first time in his life. He just wanted to hold onto something solid and real, and he didn't know anyone more down to Earth than Miss Hermione Granger.
Moping a bit, he made his way to his room, way more melancholic than he ought to be. Maybe he'd have a stiff shot of firewhisky. He'd sleep well and hard, and everything would be more hopeful and shiny in the morning. When he was due to see his girl.
His girl. There was a terrifying thought.
He'd gone a few steps into the room before the déjà vu hit him. The curtains around his four-poster were drawn tight.
No.
He couldn't believe it, even as he strode over purposely and grabbed the pull and saw it with his own eyes:
Hermione Granger in his bed, wrapped around his pillow, dressed in elephant pajamas. Not giant pajamas. Regular pajamas with tiny little pink elephants on them. He blinked and closed his mouth with a snap before he drew flies. She was covered from head to toe in oversized cotton, feet encased in fuzzy socks, hair twisted into some sort of messy braid, and she was still the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. He was instantly hard.
How had she known how much he would need her tonight? He stood and stared at her for several minutes, letting her presence wash over him. His heart kicked his breastbone like a drum, and his breath was ragged in his ears. She was here. She was fucking here. He forced down the dregs of panic that told him something was bad and wrong and that any second the whole thing would explode in his face. There was no reason for that. Why couldn't he just relax and enjoy?
He kicked off his shoes, stripped down to his shirtsleeves, and then hesitated. Maybe something awful had happened again. Maybe she wasn't here for him, maybe she was just hiding out. Did it matter? If something awful had happened? The important thing was that she had come to him. Surely it would be okay for him to carry out that stupid fluffy fantasy he'd had about just holding her tight, sleeping. Just because his cock was straining against his pants didn't mean he needed to whip it out. He could just hold her.
Unless she wanted to take up where they had left off earlier. That unruly thought did nothing to calm his libido. He shoved a whole cartful of dirty thoughts to the side and decided it was his bed and his girl, and he could hold her if he wanted to.
He cast his usual silencing charm, carefully pulled his curtains closed, and climbed into bed with her. He tried not to wake her, sliding up close and personal, putting an arm around her, breathing in the smell of her slightly damp hair. He bit his lip, keeping his silence, when he shifted closer and her round ass pressed up against his pelvis. He shifted even closer, relishing the lovely pressure. She stirred almost immediately, rubbing back against him innocently, and he let out a ragged sound despite his best intentions to be quiet and let her sleep.
A sleepy, "Draco?" had him smiling like a loon. His name came to her first, even when she was just coming out of sleep. He hadn't lied to his father. He did feel ridiculously soft and fluffy towards this girl. Every time she gave the smallest clue that she felt the same, he soared. When she gave the tiniest rejection, he dipped. It was like being on a broomstick in a tropical storm.
He kissed her neck, just because he could, and reveled in the feeling that he had her all alone, in his bed, and could take all the time he wanted with her. She tasted like girl and sweetness and goodness and all of the things he had never even thought he had wanted until recently. Now he couldn't imagine going without. He ruthlessly squashed his insane compulsion to suck on her neck like a twelve year old until a hickey bloomed, to mark her in a dozen places where everyone could see.
Holding on to restraint by a fingernail, he kept his kisses feather light and sensual. She was a classy young lady and could hardly walk around covered in welts and red splotches that loudly screamed 'Draco was here!' He was a wealthy pureblood; he could afford to drape her in diamonds instead. Still, he was surprised at how visceral the urge was to mark her physically.
Gone were the days of casual girlfriends. The shallow courting game he'd played for years would never be good enough again. Now he knew what he had been missing. Now he knew why people even wanted to have relationships in the first place. A week ago thoughts like this would have had him running scared. She made him feel fearless.
She turned over, slipping her arms around him and kissing him on the mouth. Sleepy, sweet kisses that stole his breath and made his heart slam uncontrollably against his chest. He might have just stayed in bed kissing her forever if she hadn't pulled back and asked a question. "How did things go with your father? Did you work things out?"
Draco barked a laugh and rolled over onto his back, his earlier anxiety returning like a gale force wind and buffering against him. Hermione didn't seem to mind. She rolled over, too, propping herself up on one arm, giving him another soothing sweet kiss.
"Well," she prompted with her usual tenaciousness. The fact that she was in his arms, speaking in a sweet tone of voice, didn't change the fact that she was Granger. She would have her answers, even if she had to drag them out of him by his entrails. There it was, that grounding effect of hers that he had been missing earlier today. He could count on her not to change the game. To stay herself no matter what.
He skimmed a hand down her back, found the curve of her waist and splayed his fingers possessively there, holding her to his side. Compulsively kneading and flexing her skin, reaffirming her presence was real and solid and not some sort of figment. He was growing slightly lightheaded from breathing deeper than he exhaled, but she smelled so good in the enclosed space he couldn't seem to help himself.
"It's fine. We worked things out." He tried to kiss her again, distract her. And she let him nibble her lips for just a few seconds before pulling back again, all the leverage on her side.
"So, I'm invited to tea then? We will bond over scones, and Lucius Malfoy will tell me all the best gossip like we are best girlfriends."
Draco dragged a weary hand over his face, wondering why on Earth he had wanted to see her tonight. The fantasy of her was all girly smell and luscious kisses. The reality was an endless storm of questions he never wanted to answer. "Not exactly," he hedged, shifting a bit to bring her closer, pulling the tie from her hair and working to loosen her braid one twist at a time.
"Did you tell him it was no big deal, that I was just a dirty little shag?"
Draco focused back on her face, trying to read her emotions. Her voice was light and teasing, a silly little grin on her lips, but he knew her well enough now to realize that she was trying too hard to sound casual.
Snape had once advised that he not rely on the family code to do the right thing, but rather avoid doing things that would cause him shame. If it was something he would feel uncomfortable sharing with a teacher, priest, or his mother, then he probably shouldn't do it. At the time he'd rolled his eyes and carried on. Now he understood.
Draco most definitely did not want to tell Hermione the spin he'd put on things to his father. There was a downright unpleasant feeling swirling low in his middle, maybe it was guilt. He should have just declared that he'd date whomever he wanted. Instead, he had tried to get his father to approve by leveraging her position in society. He was an idiot for enjoying getting the upper hand on his father and not thinking ahead to the fall out.
He sighed dramatically, knowing he couldn't lie to her, and admitted it in a tight voice. Better the truth than thinking he had told his father that she didn't matter at all. "I told him that you were good for our reputation."
"He bought that?" she queried, skeptical. Merlin, she was adorable. So disheveled and sleepy eyed, quirking her brows at him, twisting her lips. He worked another strand of her hair loose, focusing on the soft silky strands running through his fingers, to distract him from his wayward thoughts that told him to pin her to the bed and kiss that pretty mouth breathless.
"I'm very charismatic," he declared, trying to be glib, and she frowned even deeper, pulling back, physically and emotionally.
"Is that still what this is?" He was screwing it up already. Draco sat up, following her to keep close. Come on, Draco, he berated himself silently, don't be an idiot. This isn't some brainless twit. This is Hermione Granger, and she can't be manipulated or charmed. He was dead tired. Wrecked from emotional upheaval. But he needed to keep it together. He'd almost ruined this once today; he wasn't going to do it again.
"No, it definitely is not." He cupped his hands around her pretty face, leaned in, and ghosted a soft kiss across her lips. Remembered the way she had looked as she told him she cared about him. Remembered the sweet way she had told him she wanted to be with him, too. He wasn't the one who needed to be reassured. She'd already done that, selflessly and bravely, and he needed to live up to her example.
"I also told him I might be in love with you and that I wasn't giving you up, no matter what," he admitted in a whisper, his face burning in embarrassment and his voice a little too fast to be dignified. "It was a Hell of a conversation."
He might have stumbled on, made more confessions, backtracked, fucked up some more, but she kissed him then, and it was a balm to his battered soul. Soft, sweet, sucking kisses that tasted like absolution and forgiveness and acceptance and all the things he'd never had.
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Jealousy