Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Bittersweet	By : valkyrie136 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 32804 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is Harry Potter or Harry Potter related nor do I profit from any of these stories. They are purely for fun.

Chapter List
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When she came too, Hermione looked around herself in complete confusion. When had she collapsed?

Checking her body for bruises, she was surprised that although her head was fine, there were finger shaped bruises forming on her hips.

“What in the--?” She carefully matched her fingers over the bruises, but it meant nothing—they just looked like a few fingers imprinted on her flesh.

Had she done that?

Could she have some sort of strange condition? This was the second time she had lost time.

“Maybe I had a seizure or something?”

She stood on shaky legs, and leaned against the side of the building for support for a moment before finally finding the strength to stand.

Strange, that achy feeling was back.

She thought of going to Madame Pomfrey, but she would prefer to find a solution to the problem on her own. After all, it could just be a surplus of pain delivered before her cycle hit—that would explain the ache.

But all the same, she chose to nix the visit to the greenhouse and made a beeline for the library instead. If she could at least read over some symptoms, just to make sure she wasn’t going crazy or anything, she could rest in peace. Of course, if something was wrong, she could always go see Madame Pomfrey.

__

“I can’t, wait a minute Ron!” Laughing, Hermione dodged Ron’s attempt to catch her as they made their way into potions.

Embarrassed as their behavior attracted several pairs of eyes, she flushed a bright shade of red and looked contritely at her feet as Ron deftly closed the distance between them and took her hand.

“Please keep your hands to yourselves while within this class…” Snape drolled, staring pointedly at Hermione and Ron, “…and whenever within my eyesight.”

There were snickers and giggles as the two took their seats; Hermione’s face was an even deeper shade of red, and a quick glance behind her showed Ron’s face was as red as his hair, all the way up to his ears.

“Fuckin’ mudblood whore,” She heard Malfoy’s voice from directly behind her.

Immediately her embarrassment died away as something akin to rage boiled within her.

Carefully, she twisted in her seat and met Malfoy’s pale gray eyes and quietly but carefully said, “Jealous, Malfoy? We can’t all have the freedom to love so free—consider it your privilege as a pureblood.”

She knew her barb had struck home—Malfoy, everyone knew, would no doubt marry Pansy Parkinson and unite two great pureblood families. She wouldn’t be surprised if there was a marriage contract.

Turning back to face the front of the classroom, she ignored Malfoy with practiced ease.

After the lesson was finished, and Snape had deducted a satisfactory amount of points from Gryffindor—citing Neville’s ‘failure as a wizard to produce a child’s potion’ and Ron’s slightly better potion.

As badly as Hermione wanted to leave with Ron, and perhaps, continue where they had left off [each time they snogged it seemed that it might happen], she chose to remain behind and wait for Neville while Snape undid the effects of the potion.

After all, if left alone with the mean professor and a bevy of Slytherins, since the classroom was in the dungeons, she would stand by him.

As soon as they exited the classroom, which counted as being out of Snape’s sights in this part of the castle, half a dozen Slytherins loitered.

Hermione’s hand hovered just above her wand as she and Neville sought the quickest exit.

Unfortunately for her, Theodore Nott stepped in front, arms crossed and smirked, “All alone Granger?”

She ignored him, “Come on Neville.”

“Going to go swive Weasley?” A girl laughed, her voice high-pitched, “I bet he’s already got her knocked up.”

They all laughed, and despite herself, she felt her face redden, but all the same, she and Neville made their way out, unscathed, but unfortunately she did make eye contact with Malfoy, who was laughing at Nott’s remark all the same.

Slimy git, she thought.

__

That night, Hermione was in a hidden alcove of Hogwarts, having snuck out with Ron under the invisibility cloak.

“You smell so good, Hermione.” Ron nuzzled the side of her neck, and she melted, shivers racing up her spine and liquid heat pooling between her legs.

She was embarrassed by her bodies reaction, but she couldn’t stop herself from running her hands through his hair, or pressing her breasts against his chest shamelessly.

His body never failed to send shivers down her spine—it was the body of a man, muscular—his hands were so big and she felt so…girly.

Ron could achieve the impossible and make her feel like a woman when everyone else saw her as Granger—the genderless albeit intelligent third member of the golden trio.

“So soft,” He breathed, “God I love you Hermione.”

He slid his hand up her waist, giving her hips a quick squeeze before sliding his hands underneath her blouse.

Hermione froze for a moment, then almost toppled onto him when his hands touched her breasts.

It felt so good.

She had never understood the male preoccupation with breasts or why girls let boys touch them down—she didn’t even think her breasts had much usage besides the purely biological but now she knew.

Hermione let her hands roam over his back while pushing as close as she could into his palms—when suddenly a strange noise caused her and Ron to abruptly freeze.

Ron turned around, and Hermione hid her face behind him while he confronted—she peeked out—not an irate teacher but Malfoy!

He started to clap his hands, slowly, evenly, and a cruel smile twisted his features, “What a show for the voyeurs, eh Zabini?”

“Couldn’t agree more,” And to her further humiliation, she watched the darker boy step put from behind Draco.

“I must confess, though, the moment I realized it was Weasel and the mudblood, it was disgust, not desire, that I felt.”

“But Malfoy,” Zabini began in a patronizing tone, “Not even a horny Granger doesn’t get to you just a little?”

“It’s disgusting, like glimpsing two monkeys mating.” He spat.

“Fuck of Malfoy, Zabini.” Ron snapped, so angry that his face was as red as his hair.

Hermione wanted the floor to absorb her, but could only content herself by hiding behind Ron.

“You would know a great deal, wouldn’t you Malfoy, having lived in the animal kingdom. When you were a…what were you? A ferret?”

Hermione had adjusted her blouse, and with all her clothing in the right place, she felt ready for battle.

Malfoy was so angry at her comment that she was certain he couldn’t get the words out to insult her—his face was contorted in a vicious sneer, and he took a menacing step towards her.

Ron was ready to fight, and Hermione was ready to hex, and that was how Filch discovered the four of them, a gleeful smile on his face.

“Detention for all of ye,” He was ecstatic, but neither side paid him any mind.

“This doesn’t end here,” Malfoy snapped.

“Oh sod off Malfoy,” Ron bit back, “Find something productive to do with your time and quit bothering us.”

Hermione looked at Ron in surprise—and felt a tiny smile twisting her lips upwards. Did Ron know how much it would annoy Malfoy to seem insignificant?

Lips pursed, Malfoy turned on his heel and almost as if he had snapped his fingers, Zabini turned and followed.

“Wait, come back ‘ere!” Filch bellowed, following the two.

Watching the greasy Filch chase after Malfoy and Zabini was more than enough to douse their mood, even if the revelation of their spectators did not do otherwise.

The two walked back to the common room, quiet, but still holding hands.
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