So That's What They Do | By : BitterWind Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 3625 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, the books and movies,and its characters are not my creation. I make no money from this story; just for fun. |
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He took his hand off her and walked away to a nearby stump. The sound of the skrewts still faintly echoed across the glade, as she numbly walked forward towards him, her hand grasping her wand in her pocket. He put his hands on his face, then brought them to his knees and looked at her. There was something strange about being stared at this way, she thought. His eyes seemed very gray in the moonlight.
“I’ve always liked you, Hermione. Ever since I first saw you on the train in the first year. I thought you had a bright face, always changing, always showing how you feeled. Not like my family, where we try to hide our true feelings. I watched you all the time. Every year, you were there, and every time I repeated my father’s words to gain his approval, I watched to see your face change, you were exciting to watch. I’d even go to library and watch you read. I would want to scream every time I saw Potter or Weasley touch you, or talk to you. And then...this year,..” he bit his lip and stood up, closing the distance between them. “This year, when I first saw you, it took everything I could to scorn you. You’re so much taller…” he reached out hesitantly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Your hair looks lighter…”
“I know you probably hate me, but I can’t stop thinking about you. And this year, I think about how I really really want to touch you. I think about you every night before I go to sleep. I wonder if your lips are soft, what you smell like, what it would feel like if you were on the bed next to me. Would your skin be like velvet? Would you let me touch your breasts? Could I kiss your neck? Would you make a sound? I think about you a lot when I go to bed. I wish you liked me.” His eyes never left hers. His voice never wavered.
She opened her mouth to cry foul; that he had actually wished her dead, second year, when the chamber of secrets opened; that not once had he ever shown the littlest inkling that he was anything other than a hateful, evil, Voldemort worshipping ferret…
“I like you too.” she said.
“What?!” he said.
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