Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Squirm	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 28992 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and will not make a profit from this story.

Chapter List
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Thank you for all the kind words. It, truly, means the world to me. If you'd like, follow me on facebook (MrBenzedrine) for updates, sneak peeks of chapters, and better communication! Handle is MrBenzedrine89. Look me up on Tumblr as well! My info is on my author's page, and my door is always open.
~A.
New Year's Eve brings about a need for the new. It sparks a life inside of simple minded folk who want for nothing more than a fresh start to their transgressions in hopes that, one day, they will atone for their mistakes. Luckily, I am not simple, so I have no need to think myself above my sins. However, for posterity's sake, I still scribble a hope down on a slip of eggshell colored parchment and throw it into the flames; it's a tradition passed down from Malfoy to Malfoy. I sit alone in my parlor this year. I've opted out of the foolish parties this evening. I've nothing to celebrate. My life -my hopes and dreams are shattered beyond repair.
A chime bellows off in the distance, alerting me someone has arrived on the property, outside the gate.
"Mipsy," I shout and wait as a small, hobbled house elf appears in the doorway. "Find out who is at the gate, would you? And then turn them away."
"Right away, Master Malfoy. Mipsy is on it." The elf pops away, leaving me to my own devices. I can't seem to see the hands in front of my face; I'm entirely too sloshed. So, when the elf returns, cowering before me, I can't help but snap.
"What?"
"A Miss Granger is at the gate, sir. She tells Mipsy she won't leave until she speaks with Master Malfoy."
My head perks up. "Granger, you say?"
"Y-Yes. Mipsy tries explaining to her, but Miss Granger is stubborn."
"Yes… Definitely Granger." I smirk. "Send her in."
"Yes, Master Malfoy."
My head spins from the liquor I've sipped on for most of the evening, but I still manage to catch a glimpse of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. The time is ten till midnight. Shouldn't she parading herself around a party in some lavish cocktail dress? Or, perhaps, at home with her darling Weasley?
I hear the front doors swing open, and the approaching of footsteps, but I pretend not to pay notice, even after she steps into the room. I stare into the flames of the fireplace, though out of the corner of my eye, I take in her beauty. She stands tall, her head held high, wearing a simple satin gown, purple with gold accents. Her hair is done up in a thick bun with strands falling around her face, framing her cheeks. Her eyebrows produce a scowl so dastardly I can feel the heat radiating off her skin from over here. I act as if she is nothing more than a throw pillow, irritating her further.
"Malfoy."
The corners of my lips pull upward, but I say nothing. I know why she is here.
"Malfoy!" she shouts again, stomping her way toward me. I allow her the privilege of blocking my view of the fire, forcing me to meet her gaze. "Answer me, you… you…"
"Foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach?" I offer, my smirk widening. I've had that memorized from the first time she called me it our third year. I'd hoped to use it against her one day, but the opportunity never presented itself. Might as well take what I can get.
"Did you…" she starts, crossing and uncrossing her arms. "Did you send this to my doorstep this evening?" She thrusts out her left arm to reveal a stunning diamond bracelet. On it sits a golden snitch charm with an amber stone.
"You're wearing it," I say, refusing to answer her question. "That must mean you like it enough."
"I thought it was from Ron," she says, glaring. "He accused me of sleeping with someone else because of this trinket."
"I'm surprised he didn't try to take the credit himself."
"I notice you're not taking credit, either."
"That's because we both know the answer. Who else could afford something like that?" I nudge my finger toward her wrist. "You're welcome."
"I… I didn't… I didn't want this, Malfoy."
"So, you can send me a Christmas present, and I'm to ignore my manners and not return the favor?"
"This is more than a favor," she says, waving her wrist at me. "This is too much." She reaches for the clasp with her other hand. "I can't accept it."
"Well, I don't want it. You think I'm going to wear it around my wrist? I'm proud of my appearance, yes, but I'm not bent."
"Why?" she asks, giving up on unclasping it. Stubborn little thing. I bought it that way, with a difficult clasp.
"Why am I not gay?"
"Why would you buy me something so expensive? We work together. We're not-"
"-I felt like being generous. As you and the rest of your friends continuously attempt to remind me, I'm less than that. Forgive me for trying to make amends." My tone is short and crisp, cutting her resolve off at the pass.
"Well…" her voice grows softer. "Even still. It's too much, Draco."
My name. She's said my name, and I'm not sure what possessed me to stand, despite my obvious drunkenness, but I do. I step closer, focusing on not stumbling. My eyes narrow. My voice comes in a rasp. "Say that again."
She looks bewildered at my request, but she doesn't step back. Bold. Ever so bold. "It's too much."
"No." I shake my head as the room spins. "We both know what part I mean."
She glances down to her decorated wrist, and then draws it to her chest, thinking. It isn't my imagination; I'm sure she can feel the spark in the air between our stances. It's like lightning bottled up in the faintest of moments, but it's there. I watch her drag her lower lip between her teeth and listen as she exhales, "Draco."
My name, said out loud by her lips, sends that lightning between us coursing through my body, and I dare one more step closer. "So… Weasley was upset?" I manage to tread another step, until I'm only a foot away from her, now. "Over such a small trinket?"
"He wasn't pleased," she whispers, and I can hear the pitter patter of both our hearts in the silence. "Even less when I told him I thought it was from you."
"Hmm." I nod, extending my hand, offering it out to her. She stares at it, untrusting, but I roll my eyes and take her wrist anyway, drawing it up to my eyeline. "Why is that, do you think?"
"He despises you."
"Oh, yes. I know that," I sneer, eyeing the craftsmanship of the bracelet."I meant: why is it, do you think, your thoughts fell on me when you received such a breathtaking gift?"
I listen to the hitch in her breathing, and it's heavenly. "As you've said. Only someone like you could afford something like this."
"That's not entirely true. Potter has a fair share of galleons. So does your dear friend… what's her name? Weasley's sister?"
"Ginny."
"Ginny." I nod. "Yes. She's a professional Quidditch player now, isn't she? Surely she would gift you with something so pretty?"
"But it was you."
"Yes. It was." I lean closer, bringing her wrist up close to my lips. The alcohol makes me braver than I've ever been around her. It talks now. "My point, Granger, is that while your first instinct should have been one of your many friends, you automatically thought of me. Why is that?"
There's a deafening silence between us as she contemplates her answer. "I suppose… it's the way you look at me."
"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow. "And how do I look at you, pray tell?"
"Like… like a meal." She blinks rapidly, embarrassed at her words. Or it might be my calculating grin I form in response. Hard to tell, really. "I should go."
My grip around her wrist strengthens, and I tug it closer still, so that my breath ghosts pulsepoint. "Should you?" I press a soft kiss to her veins just below her palm.
She swallows, causing the muscles in her pretty throat to contract. "Ron will be waiting for me. I told him I would pop out for only a moment…"
"So close to New Year's countdown? And he just let you leave... Really…"
"Y-Yes…"
"Why don't I believe you?"
"Because you're paranoid. And arrogant."
"Touché." I leave another kiss, this one with a hint of tongue, just a bit lower, closer to her bracelet. "But you aren't fleeing or hexing me, and that says more than an empty promise Weasley is waiting for you."
Her eyes are half lidded, vexed at her current situation. She likes what I'm doing to her, of that I am certain. For so long now, I've found myself torn between the want to fuck, kill, or kiss this woman -tonight, kiss wins the betting pool. The clock behind us chimes midnight, and I wrap my free hand around her waist, removing the distance between us.
"Midnight," I say.
"So it is."
"You're missing a New Year's kiss with Weasley."
She purses her lips together, caught in her own lie. I make it easy on her.
"No one should go without a New Year's kiss."
And then I lean towards her, head tilted, assessing the situation. Her breathing stills, and her lips part, and it's all I need to go the distance. My mouth sets on hers, and for a moment, we are one. Her taste is something indescribable, but her tongue - oh, her tongue as it dances with mine, against its better judgement, soothes the gentle beast within my soul. I'm lost in her trance. This siren has stolen something from me, yet again, and I fear I might never get it back: loyalty.
The chime of the grandfather clock echoes around us, but it's fodder compared to the gentle sigh that escapes her lips as I pull away and pry my eyes back open. Chocolate meets steel. I find myself smirking, though I know it isn't in my best interest.
"I imagine you can see yourself out the door."
"What?" she blinks a few times, coming down from her daze. Her eyes widen at the realization of what we've done, but she isn't one to dwell on it, and she pushes it deep down, opting for a brave face, like myself. She steps back, away from me, touching her lips with her fingers. Too stunned to say anything else, she stalks her way to the archway to take her leave, pausing momentarily to turn back toward me. I stick my hands in my pockets, awaiting any further lashings for my transgressions, but all I receive instead is a glimmer of a smile.
"I… erm... "
"A thank you will suffice," I tell her. "For the gift."
And just like that, her face falls into a perturbed glare. "I never asked for it."
"But you liked it, all the same."
She tilts her chin up. Gryffindors and their pride. "Thank you."
"You're most welcome."
She turns to leave, and I add,
"See you at work."
She rests a beat before replying, "I suppose you will. Goodnight… Draco."
"Goodnight."
Feel free to leave your thoughts!
~A.
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