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Fragments Of A Malfoy	By : SchuylerD Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 4091 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Chapter Four: Inquisition

Draco spent the next three days working in the greenhouse and every day Hermione would come in, talk briefly to Professor Sprout, and leave without so much as glancing at him. He repotted Mandrakes until his ears ached from the constant pressure of the earmuffs. He was desperate to do some other kind of work - anything but stand by this table day after day with his hands in dirt.

Professor Sprout stayed with him each day; she putzed about the greenhouse talking to the plants and Draco could have sworn she had some kind of relationship with them and could speak to them in an odd plant language. She never mentioned anything to him about the incident with Hermione only days earlier, so Draco figured she really didn't have "spies" in the greenhouse as threatened.

The work was helpful; being occupied helped Draco feel a bit more like himself again - who he used to be before the previous summer. He caught himself almost enjoying the ache in his muscles as he lay down to sleep at night in his titanic bed. Sleep came easily now; he'd curl up on his right side with a pillow tucked under his head and drift into a world of dreams only moments later. He could not remember his dreams but he knew he'd had them because upon waking, a vague sense of disturbance niggled at his subconscious. Was it Lucius the center of it? Or could it be Hermione? Draco couldn't yet tell.

As he dressed for another day in the greenhouse, he wondered what business Hermione had with Professor Sprout day after day. He wasn't brave enough to come out and just ask her and she probably wouldn't tell him anyway. Still, the curiosity grew until he simply had to know. Potter wasn't at school as far as Draco could tell; he hadn't seen any students besides himself, Hermione, three Hufflepuffs and one Ravenclaw. The Hufflepuffs were always in Quidditch gear when Draco saw them so he assumed they were spending the summer training. But why would Hermione be there? Wouldn't she stay with her parents like usual? And why would Potter not be around to act as her supreme protector as always? The plot grew thicker as Draco pondered it all.

On his way downstairs, Draco passed Professor Snape in the hallway.

"Professor Snape?" he asked.

"What is it, Malfoy?" said Snape with his usual monotone. He always appeared to be in a hurry and today was no different. His eyes told Draco that he was not happy with being interrupted form his business.

"I was wondering--could I ask you something?"

"Spit it out, Malfoy I don't have all day."

"Do you know why Hermione Granger is in school for the summer?" Snape's eyes narrowed and Draco felt a pang of fear that he'd asked the wrong question. He hurried tried to cover his mistake. "And the Hufflepuffs - are they training for Quidditch?"

"That is their business, Mr. Malfoy. I suggest you ask them." With that, he swept off down the corridor.

Back to the beginning, thought Draco. He needed a cigarette to get him through the long day ahead. Taking a look around, he sneaked out behind the greenhouse and pulled a fag from his pocket. Using his wand to light it was awkward at best. He put the fag in his mouth and pointed his wand at the tip. "Lacanum inf--"

"What are you doing?" a voice shouted. Draco turned to find

Hermione Granger running towards him. She grabbed the wand out of

his hand. "Do you want to set your head on fire?"

"Give it here, Granger," he said none too politely.

"No. Anyway, smoking isn't allowed; you know that."

"I don't sodding care, Granger, now give us the wand!" He lunged

for it and Hermione stepped back, holding the wand aloft. She was shorter than he and obviously hadn't counted on his longer arms and graceful fingers. He grabbed the wand from her hand, their fingers touching for a split second. In that second, their eyes locked and Draco felt almost a sizzling sensation in his fingertips, akin to a spark. He wondered if the wand had backfired and quickly looked to see if anything was on fire. No, that wasn't it. The sizzling in his fingers turned into warmth that spread to his shoulders and moved lower, filling his loins with aching need. Realizing he was experiencing the beginnings of an erection, he quickly turned away from Hermione and pretended to look for the fag that had fallen from his mouth. "Sod it, Granger, where's me fag?"

"You just stepped on it," came her answer.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, looking under his shoe. He picked up the mangled cigarette and looked back at her with what he hoped was a poisonous glance.

"You shouldn't have been trying to smoke on school grounds, anyway." She paused. "Why do you smoke?"

"It relaxes me," he explained.

"Books relax me," she replied. "And they don't cause anyone to catch on fire and don't pose any unnecessary hazards and--"

"Right!" he grumbled. The erection was fading now that Hermione was arguing with him. He felt safe facing her again but when he did he caught his breath.

"What?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest and shifting her weight onto her left foot.

Draco blinked. Had she been wearing that before? Hermione wasn't in her school uniform or any kind of clothing he'd ever seen her in. Ahh, he thought. It must be Muggle clothing. "What are you wearing?" he blurted out.

She looked down at herself, then back up at him. "Clothing. You've seen it before."

"Is that...Muggle clothing?"

"Yes, it's Muggle clothing. Dumbledore gave me permission to wear 'whatever was comfortable' this summer. Are you going to tell me how disgusted you are that a witch should wear such garments and shame the name of 'witch' now?"

Draco stared. He knew he was staring but couldn't stop. Hermione's light jumper was of a fabric he'd never seen--it was almost fluffy or...fuzzy. The pale tone of it made her cheeks seem rosier as the hue reflected up onto her face in the sunlight. She almost glowed. He also couldn't help noticing how flatteringly the jumper accentuated her breasts, clinging to every soft curve. He didn't know when girls stopped developing, but if she stopped right now, he'd be more than satisfied. She wasn't extremely busty, but he liked what he saw. Very much. Draco silently cursed the long black school robes they were always forced to wear in class.

His gaze hadn't even traveled down to her form fitting trousers when he heard her cough slightly.

"Malfoy. I'm up here," she said.

He looked up at her, suddenly extremely embarrassed. Shite! I was standing here staring at her breasts and she knows it! Shite! He tried to play it off. "Ah, yes, of course," he said, groaning inwardly at his ineloquence.

To his surprise, Hermione sported a bemused smile. She shook her head slightly; jostling the sun kissed chestnut waves that ran from her crown to her shoulder blades. Draco's eyes widened as he realized she wasn't angry with him. She of course had every right to be. What was he thinking? She had every right to be? No she did not. She was a Mudblood, and Mudbloods don't deserve anything! His father's voice loomed in the back of his memory as he recalled the rote teachings of his childhood. Mudbloods shame the name of 'wizard'. Mudbloods and Muggles should be exterminated.

Draco shook off the unpleasant memories. Concern registered on Hermione's face and Draco forced himself to train his gaze on her eyes. He wanted very much to look at her chest again, but surmised that she would not stand for such brazenness and she might walk away. And much to his horror, Draco did not want her to go away.

"What are you doing at Hogwarts?" they asked simultaneously. Hermione smiled again and Draco fought the urge to join in her mirth.

After a moment's silence wherein Hermione looked her shoe and

Draco did the same (a black sandal with a delicate silver buckle), Hermione finally spoke. "What are you doing here?"

"I asked you first," he answered.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him and turned up the corner of her mouth in a half grin. "Did you just make a joke, Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged.

"I'm studying...as usual. Did you really need to ask?" she said, her voice sounding resigned and just a bit tired.

"Studying what?" he probed.

"It's something for Herbology. I'm sure after spending all day in the greenhouse you wouldn't be interested in hearing about it."

"It has to be done here? Now? All summer?" He was shooting off questions to her, suddenly needing to know everything.

"Well, I'm also conducting an experiment, but it's very--" she paused, obviously uncomfortable. "It's a private matter."

A 'private experiment'? Draco was intrigued. "What sort of 'experiment'?" he asked nonchalantly, as if the matter weren't already burning in his mind.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss it. But I can talk to you about the Herbology project," she answered.

"You're all right," he replied, not interested in more talk of plants. Draco Malfoy, he counseled himself, you are having a civil conversation with Hermione Granger. You have to be barmy. There's just no other way. They're going to lock you up right alongside Professor Lockhart.

"What are you doing here?" she volleyed the question back at him and he knew he had no answer to give.

"I'm..."

"Don't you know?"

"Yes. Of course," he fumbled with his words, his brain racing.
"Were your parents too busy?"

Parents? Yes. Too busy. Very busy parents, no time for their son. Make it sound good. "Right. The parents. They're having guests and all..."

"That's unfortunate," she said.

Draco felt a pang in his stomach reminding him of how wrong Hermione really was with that statement. Guests kept Lucius busy - he could be fucking them instead of his own son. The thought of Lucius darkened Draco's demeanor and he scowled without even realizing it. "What about your parents?" he countered.

"I had to beg them to let me stay at Hogwart's this summer. They wanted me to go with them to Bali, but I thought they could enjoy their second honeymoon together more without me around."

"What's a honeymoon?" Draco blurted. Stupid Muggle expressions, he thought angrily. He hated having to ask what things meant--it showed weakness. He watched Hermione's face (don't look down, keep staring into her eyes, or at her nose - or her mouth. No, don't look at her mouth. Bloody hell!) and saw that a slight blush had risen to her cheeks.

"A honeymoon is a time that a man and a woman spend together right after they're married," she explained, not without embarrassment. Her self-consciousness was completely lost on Draco since he hadn't yet picked up on the nuances of what the word "honeymoon" really meant. "It's usually a week or two and..."

"And?"

"Most children are conceived during that time. I was."

Now it was Draco's turn to grow red in the face.

"Are you - blushing?" Hermione peered at him closely and burst out laughing. "Draco Malfoy - blushing! I didn't think I'd ever see the day!"

Filled with rage at this Mudblood witch laughing at him just because he didn't know her stupid Muggle customs, Draco moved toward her. He didn't know what he was going to do when they touched; he just wanted to shut her up. The sound of her laughter infuriated him. Instead of raising his hand to her or casting a spell with his wand, Draco turned on her, held her upper arms tightly, and backed her up against the wall of the greenhouse. His face was so close to hers he could feel her shock and the quickness of her breath coming in warm puffs against his face. Her eyes were dark and wild, opened wide at this sudden attack. No words or sound came from her mouth. Her mouth. Draco allowed himself to give in for an instant and focus on her lips. Slightly parted, her lips were rosy without needing cosmetic charms. They looked silky and soft, and Draco wondered how her lips would feel under his. His body pressed up against her, holding her in place, Draco felt himself physically respond to her warmth and nearness.

Neither of them spoke. It was almost as if Hermione were waiting for something to happen. Draco was surprised that she didn't try to scream or even push him away. Encouraged by her passivity, he pressed into her a bit harder, eliciting a sudden short intake of breath from the young woman.

He'd silenced her laughter, but now what? What did he want to do next? He looked into her eyes again, unblinking; holding her gaze, trapping her. His lips were so close to hers he could feel the heat emanating from her skin. The feel of her breath on his lips intoxicated him and his eyelids grew heavy. He moved closer, just a fraction...

"MALFOY!" a voice screeched. Draco nearly jumped out of his skin as his sensual trance was broken. A hand descended upon his shoulder and a sudden yank ripped him from Hermione, who ducked and ran off around the greenhouse toward the castle doors. Draco was spun around to face an enraged Professor Sprout. He's never seen her face look so red.

"Just what do you think you were doing? You are not only fifteen minutes late for your work in the greenhouse but you've been trying to scandalize one of Hogwart's best students! Dumbledore will hear of this!" She glanced down and Draco watched her face grow even redder. He followed her gaze and saw the crushed and forgotten fag lying next to his wand on the ground. "Smoking? You were smoking? Near my precious plants? You could have killed them all! They're very sensitive to smoke--" she paused and grit her teeth. "Right. Straight to Dumbledore."

"But Profess--"

"No words, Mr. Malfoy, I'm warning you," she hissed. "Not one word."
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Fragments Of A Malfoy