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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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The library was wonderfully serene. The familiar musky scent of books. The comforting shadows dancing on the walls. The blessed silence.
Hermione made her way to a table and dropped her bag on a chair to mark her place. Not that there would be much traffic on a Saturday. The place would fill up with last minute studiers tomorrow, but today people were sleeping in and enjoying the sunshine. Hermione however needed to make up for going to bed early the night before.
Not that she had slept well. Her dreams had been plagued with broomsticks and grey eyes. Very disturbing, and hardly conducive to a good nights rest. Besides, she had needed to get out of her dorm before her roommates woke up, or worse, before Ginny woke.
She wanted to put off that heart to heart for as long as possible.
She might be able to fool Ron, and maybe even Harry, but Ginny was in a completely different league when it came to ferreting out the truth. No pun intended.
She browsed around the library, finding a book or two she needed, and three that she did not. But she had been meaning to read up on beetles, and the book on goblin culture looked intriguing. She very carefully kept the book entitled "The joys of flying" carefully concealed under the others, with the spine to her stomach. When she sat down she braced her bag up against the stack, if Ron were to see that it would open a whole new can of worms.
She pulled a stack of notebooks from her bag and spread them around her, digging out quills and her notes. She pushed a breath out between her lips and got down to serious business.
Two essays later, she was pouring over her Arithmancy notes and carefully outlining possible year end projects. It was important to get an early start so she could be certain to have plenty of time to produce her very best work. The professor had said that their final projects would be worth 40 percent of their grade.
When she felt someone slide in the seat next to her she finished the sentence she was writing before turning to say hello to Harry, who usually came to bully her out of library by noon for lunch. To her utter dismay it was not Harry who had shoved her cloak off the chair and onto the floor, pushed her backpack aside, and was thumbing through her stuff.
It was Malfoy
She felt her smile slip from her face like chalk in the rain. "The joys of flying…Hermione…you can't be serious!" He said pushing her other books off, causing them to tumble roughly to the table. "You can't learn that through a book."
"Hey!" She said, indignant on behalf of the books. No need to throw them around. "Anything can be learned from a book." She said snottily, putting her nose in the air and leaning back into her chair to escape his disturbing proximity. He refused to take a hint.
He slipped one arm over the back of her chair, his long fingers brushing her shoulder and leaned in close to her. "Is that right? When the time comes I suppose you will order 'The joys of Making Love' and you and the lucky bloke can cuddle and read it together."
Hermione blushed scarlet with the intimate turn of conversation and tried to jerk her shoulder free from his touch, but his fingers dug into her skin and held her firmly in place.
"Relax." He breathed in her ear.
"I can't." She hissed back, deliberately keeping herself from moving away from him. His arm was brushing against her shoulders, his body coiled close to hers. He smelled so good it ought to be a sin. Leather, expensive cologne, and the warm musky scent she had come to associate with fresh from Quidditch practice.
He leaned forward slightly, his chest rubbing up against her arm, and turned the page of her book.
"I can see why the Weasel turned you loose. You're wound so tight a good hug would break you in half."
"I am not." She whispered furiously in return, flipping her page back over so she could continue reading. That was best, just ignore him.
"You are stiff as a board; don't you ever loosen up?" He breathed against her skin. She pulled her book closer and bent over it, avoiding his eyes.
"I'm stiff because you're you. I'll have you know I was plenty relaxed around Ron." She replied haughtily in a low voice, surreptitiously peering over her book. Several people were watching them openly, the library gone deadly silent. Usually she craved that quiet, but not when the only reason for it was that ears were straining to hear her personal conversations. Really, didn't these people have lives of their own?
Nosey Busybodies.
"Perhaps too relaxed?" He replied, equally quiet, but even a bare whisper couldn't disguise the haughty taunting tone to his voice. He could even sneer in an undertone. "What I mean to say is that a lover's touch…" he ran one long finger up along her shoulder and grazed the bare skin on her neck…"should leave you excited and breathless. Something must have been missing if poor-boys touch left you pliant and relaxed."
Hermione silently cursed the rash of gooseflesh that broke out over her skin. Surely he noticed. Judging by his smug look, he had.
"That isn't what I meant. And it's really none of your business anyway."
The words on her page seemed to rearrange themselves and refused to make sense. She couldn't even concentrate well enough to read, he was too close. His scent was overwhelming. His words beyond disturbing. Had there been something wrong with the physical part of hers and Ron's relationship? After all, a single touch of his had never left her shaking and distracted.
It was just because it was Malfoy
She was disturbed and disgusted.
She was.
"The question is…" He continued, obviously paying her denial no mind. "Was the problem on his end, or yours?"
His finger moved along her throat, and down the curve of her breast, his large warm hand coming to rest at her waist. Hermione realized with a start that she had been holding her breath and took a shuddering lungful of air, glancing around apprehensively at the people around them. Could they hear the way her heart was beating erratically? Could he?
"It's my opinion that Weasley just doesn't know how to touch you properly. He doesn't have any passion, any fire."
"Hermione, it's time for lunch." Harry's flat cold voice intruded on the moment like a bucket of cold ice water in her face. Hermione jumped in her skin and looked up at Harry's angry face guiltily.
"Oh, right, lunch." She squeaked, shoveling things in her backpack and elbowing Malfoy sharply to get him to put some distance between them. Within 60 seconds she had jammed her stuff messily in her bag and was walking away with Harry. She didn't glance back at her table and she didn't say goodbye.
"I thought he wanted to be your friend." Harry said as they pushed their way out of the big double doors.
"He does want to be my friend." Hermione replied strait faced, firming her voice into her usual no nonsense tone that seemed to have deserted her when she was speaking to that presumptuous Git.
"Mione' are you blind? He was coming on to you!"
"Don't be ridiculous Harry, its Draco Malfoy we are talking about here. He certainly wouldn't lower himself to flirt with the likes of me." She replied in a self-aggrandizing way, peering out of the corner of her eye to see if her best friend of six years was buying a word of her bologna. Apparently not.
"I trust you completely Mione' but I just can't believe that you are being this naïve. The fact of the matter is that Malfoy has an agenda, he always has an agenda." Harry's face shifted into that granite hard look that he wore when he talked about you know who. "I'm not going to let him hurt you. I certainly can't tell you who to be friends with, and won't try, but if he crosses you than he is going to deal with me. And I'll expect that you don't tell me whose face I can smash in."
Hermione felt sick. She was on one hand warmed by Harry's fierce protectiveness. And at the same time she felt cold because she was lying to this wonderful loyal friend. She opened her mouth to tell him everything when Ron suddenly joined them from a side hallway, his girlfriend on his arm, and her mouth closed with a click.
At lunch, Hermione dug out her notebook and a muggle ink pen. She preferred them over quills, not necessarily because they were any easier to use than self-inking quills, but because they seemed to fit better in her tiny hand.
Information and conversation about my personal life were not any part of our original understanding. Nor will it be in the future. Unnecessary physical contact will also not be tolerated. Meet me in the trophy room after dinner to discuss a more acceptable method of attaining desired results.
She transfigured the jagged notebook page into elegant parchment that even a Malfoy couldn't sneer at, before rolling her note up and putting it in one of the small letter tubes she kept in her bag. She left it unsigned, not necessarily out of fear of interception, but because she didn't know how to sign a letter addressed to a fellow conspirator whom she hated. It wasn't as if she could sign Love Always, Hermione like she usually did.
When the trio rose from their seats Hermione offered a quick apology because she needed to get to the owlery.
"I'll go with you Mione'" Ron suddenly offered out of the ether. "Malfoy might be lurking about ready to pounce on you again." He added darkly, squashing the hope that he wanted to spend time with her. Hermione nodded coolly and lead the way silently to the school owls. Angry with Ron's silence Hermione made no secret to hide who her message was bound for.
She tied the tube to one of the schools' owls, gave it a pat, and said quite clearly. "Would you be so kind as to deliver this to Draco Malfoy?"
"YOU'RE WRITING TO HIM NOW!" Ron exploded loudly, causing the owl to fly quickly away in a wave of feathers, hooting reproachfully.
Hermione rose calmly to her feet, secretly enjoying his rage. Didn't like a dose of his own medicine, did he?
"Ron, I can write to whoever I want to." She bent over the wipe the feathers off her robes.
"He's evil, He's Dangerous. He's Draco Malfoy!"
"He isn't evil Ron," She replied, hiding a grin and linking her arm with his to lead him out of the room, just like old times. "He is going to be head boy next year for sure, his grades are only second to mine. And if he is willing to make a go at friendship, then so am I."
He pulled away from her, looking at her with comical horror. "I forbid it." He said decisively. "I forbid you to see him, write to him, or even talk to him."
Hermione felt her familiar outrage at Ron overwhelm her. He was just so unreasonable. She spun to face him, hands on hips, eyes blazing. "You listen up mister! You don't get to tell me what to do. You don't own me. No one does. And no one forbids me to do a damn thing!"
"Hermione someone has to! You are being a complete idiot! I'm your boyfriend and I know what is best for you!"
"No, you're Padma's boyfriend. Remember! You're with her now. So go tell her what to do."
He opened his mouth to scream back at her but no words came out. Hermione turned quickly as Professor Snape swooped down on them. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for screaming in the hallways like first years."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest but realized that she had been hit with the same silencing spell.
"Get out of my sight, the charm will wear off by dinner, and in the interim Hogwarts will be free of your incessant arguing."
Hermione stormed off down the hall to her dorms. She stomped up the stairs, in no mood to explain without words that she had no words. In her room she found a majestic eagle owl tapping her window. She let in the bird, which pompously held out one slender leg for her to retrieve her message. He swooped away without waiting to see if she had a reply.
The long elegant script was unmistakable.
Not the Trophy Room. Too public. I'll see you in the old charms classroom, left of Godric's statue in the west wing, at promptly 7:00.
DM
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Jealousy