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Jealousy	By : brandnewdaydawning Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 78826 -:- 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
- 8
- 9
- 10
He was clearly unbalanced. Swinging from one mood to another with no warning quick as lighting. Hermione tried to back away and remembered how close she was to the door. She straightened her spine and tossed her hair back. He'd made a quite a mess of it, there was no fixing it without a sink full of water and a wand. Who was crazier? Malfoy? Who was obviously insane and didn't even know it, or was it her? She was the one had chosen to expose herself to his foul personality, let him paw her, and toy with her reputation. She was supposed to be the smartest Witch of her generation, but she was acting like a complete ninny. Perhaps she should see if therapy was covered by her parents insurance because obviously she was in need.
He gave her a slow condescending look, sweeping his eyes from her feet to her eyes, and nodded, seemingly satisfied. She felt his look like a physical caress. She had to stop herself from crossing her arms over her chest, and then messed it up by flinching when he gave her his patented knowing look. Deep down she was convinced that he had absolutely no idea about anything and his stinking father had taken him aside and taught him that all knowing look.
"Get out of my way." She went for cool and collected but her voice sounded angry and had a wet Crookshanks tone to it. She didn't care. She gave him her best look of deepest loathing and twisted so she could get the door open. "We'll talk about this later, when you've had time to come to your senses." She threw over her shoulder, breezing through the doors like she didn't have a care in the world.
She really hoped he came to his senses; murder most foul would be difficult to cover up. She would have to transfigure him into a ferret and keep him indefinitely, and rodents really weren't her thing. She was more into lovable furry creatures, like cats.
She was so furious at Malfoy that she almost didn't notice people staring at her. So caught up in her anger that she managed to get to her seat without scurrying or acting embarrassed. Who cared what they thought anyway? She'd spent several years at this school without their approval and wasn't sure how it had suddenly come to matter so much. Well screw them all. Let them think what they wanted. She was breaking up with Malfoy first thing in the morning. That was that.
There would be no more insane make out sessions that made her head spin. She was quite obviously not mature enough for it.
She smiled at Ron, inordinately pleased with his scowl and the bruise on his cheek. Just having him all riled up on her behalf made her feel so much better. She reached for her toast and buttered it with a calm sense of serenity that she had been lacking ever since she had embarked on this whole romance escapade. Obviously this whole boyfriend thing wasn't for her and she felt much more balanced just knowing that no matter how the cards fell she would be better off without one.
Her blessed tranquility however wasn't to be. Like always Malfoy intruded relentlessly.
Her bag dropped on the table in front of her knocking over the butter. He leaned in close, right in front of everybody to drop a warm soft kiss on her cheek. "You rushed off without your bag."
She felt the color flood her face like she was being dipped in warm red paint. Oh, she hated him. She hated him. She hated him. She suddenly realized she was out of breath and took a shuddering lungful of air as she turned to say…something. But he was already on his way to his seat. She let out a sigh and hauled her bag off the table, knocking over the salt in the process and dumped it on the floor without bothering to clean off the butter smear. It didn't matter; she was going to burn that bag anyway.
The problem with pushing Granger's buttons was that somehow she managed to push his buttons back. She had always been able to get under his skin, make his blood hot. Something about her was able to effortlessly skirt all of his usual defenses. Now she had a new weapon. Apparently his teenage libido found her incredibly irresistible. Just being around her had his hormones in a twist and his mind all clouded. Luckily she had no idea about her new found power over him. At least he hoped she didn't. He was going to have to curb his overwhelming impulse to touch her.
As much fun as it was to shock her and set her off balance, it was playing havoc with his own reactions. The thing was, in order to get her breathless and unbalanced; he himself was becoming intoxicated and aroused. Not that it meant anything. She was a pretty girl. He was a normal teenager. If his reaction was a little out of the ordinary it certainly didn't have anything to do with her. It was the excitement of duping the Wizarding world. It was the thrill of infuriating his father. It was the buzz from blatantly partaking in the forbidden. Not only was Granger muggle-born, she was the Gryffindor Princess, she was Weasley's obsession, and she was practically the sister of his arch enemy Potter. She was everything that he should never even consider touching…
That was why he found her so alluring.
He doused his pancakes with syrup and took a fierce bite to drown out the lingering taste of her tongue in his mouth.
"So Draco, are you shagging Granger or not?" Theodore Nott's distinctive drawl cut across the table silencing conversation. Draco deliberately swallowed his food, meeting the other boy's eyes with calm command. If he could only manage to be in as much control over his encounters with Granger he would be sleeping better.
"That's none of your business Theo." He took another bite of pancakes. Her scent was clinging to his robes. It was distracting.
"Well, we are just wondering what the hell you are doing traipsing around with that…"
He sat down his fork with a quiet clink. "I'd be very careful about what comes out of your mouth Nott."
Theodore visibly swallowed but then his face turned mutinous. "Since when are we not allowed to speak our minds about Gryffindor trash Malfoy?"
He stood up very slowly, enjoying his impressive height. "I'm going to assume that we are now discussing Potter."
The silence around them had spread to the Ravenclaw table but the Hufflepuffs remained cheerfully unaware of the tension. The pause stretched uncomfortably long and Draco was wondering if something more needed to be said when Theo finally spoke, averting his eyes. "Of course Draco, you know how I feel about Potter. He needs to be put in his place."
He sat down and quiet conversation began hesitantly, almost immediately overpowered by the delivery of the mail.
A crisp white envelope emblazoned with the Malfoy Crest lifted his spirits immediately.
Draco,
Some disturbing misinformation has made its way into the Prophet. You have allowed your control of the situation at Hogwarts to slip to the point that some brainless twit has the gall to report outrageous gossip to some reporter. Splashed across the front page is a photograph of you on broomstick with that Mudblood friend of Potter's. The alteration is very good, I'm having it researched, it looks very genuine.
We must convene immediately to devise a plan and collaborate on the best way to minimize the damage to your reputation. I am deeply disappointed in your inability to manage your affairs at Hogwarts in more dignified manner. In my day a salvage job such as this would never have been necessary.
Lucius Malfoy
Draco resisted the urge to immediately pen a response to the letter and folded it carefully, placing it in the inside pocket of his robes. He took another bite of pancakes and despite his best efforts let his gaze stray to the Gryffindor table.
She was chatting with her friends, blissfully unaware of the article about her in the Prophet. She slowly turned to her paper, unfolding as she laughed at something the She-Weasel said. He had forgotten she took a subscription to the paper. That made the whole situation even more delicious. She glanced down at the front page, shaking it out with a practiced flick of her wrists. He fancied he could hear her gasp as her mouth fell open but he was too far away to make out the sound over the school chatter.
He had a sudden irresistible need to see what was written about them in the paper. He pulled his fathers' letter out for effect, letting anger settle on his features. Before pushing his plate away and climbing to his feet. He stomped over the Gryffindor table. He could have gotten the paper from any one of a dozen other students. He didn't care. He wanted to look into her eyes and see her dismay. As long as he kept his hands to himself he could enjoy watching her squirm.
He grasped her arm above the elbow and leaned close enough to whisper in her ear. "Come outside with me."
She didn't even jump at his touch. She looked up at him with wide surprised eyes apparently too shocked to be offended and nervous by his closeness. "Malfoy," Her dismay apparent in her voice. "Have you seen this?"
She smelled so good. He didn't know what perfume she wore but he was going to demand that she quit immediately. It was distracting. He couldn't be panting all deep like this when he was around her. Weasley was turning an unpleasant shade of Puce and Potter looked as alarmed as Granger ought to have been. After all he had laid his Slytherin hands on their precious princess. He got an unholy thrill from their distress. He should have thought of this ages ago.
Her lips were very close to his and he tamped down the wild desire to kiss her. Brand her as his in front of Potter. Stake his claim for the entire world to see. His blood was rushing so fast through his veins that it was making him lightheaded. "I have something to show you too, come outside with me."
His voice came out husky and low, and he told himself he'd done it on purpose. She rose to her face almost hesitantly, clutching the paper way too tight. He forced himself to step to the side, mourning her closeness, so she could get out and Potter rose to his feet. "Is everything alright Hermione?"
"Oh, everything is fine." She said as she clumsily folded her paper and grabbed some toast. "I'll see you in transfiguration."
As simple as that she left with him. Either her acting skills had dramatically improved or she wasn't at all skittish in his presence. He couldn't decide if that was good or bad.
He took her bag, and stuffed the paper under his arm as he passed her the letter from his father. This time leaving with her did not feel like he was walking the gauntlet. People must be getting used to them already. He'd have to do something to shake them up. What fun was all of this if he couldn't horrify the masses?
He pushed open the doors and they walked out into the courtyard. She was blessedly silent while she read the letter from his father. The courtyard was empty for a short while; everyone was finishing up with breakfast. But soon it would be heavy with hustle and bustle. A good opportunity to be "caught" together in lover behavior.
"I don't understand," She stopped and looked up at him. "I thought that you wanted your father to be upset."
She was charmingly naïve and open. He'd have to break her of that. Her big brown eyes were like a map of her emotions if anyone cared to read it. He didn't care. He couldn't give one hoot how she felt, or what she thought, or how good she smelled. He grabbed her hand in a friendly way and gave her a tug so she would follow him. No witnesses here, but one could never be positive. He leaned down close to her ear to speak to her. That's the way a lover would be about it, and that way there would be no overhearing of the conversation.
"I do want my father to be upset. But I can't look like I'm thrilled about it. How you managed to be pegged the brightest Witch of the age, I'll never know."
"Just because I'm not naturally devious like you, doesn't mean I'm not intelligent." She whispered back, turning her head to place her words in his ear. Her warm breath tickled his skin. "So brilliant mastermind schemer, what's next on the agenda?"
"Well, the whole school is talking, Weasel is furious, and my father is in denial. I think that what we are doing is just fine."
"Where are we going?"
Did she ever stop asking questions? He gave her a look to hush her mouth and parked her underneath a willow tree by the lake. He dropped down beside her and spread open the paper. A full cover picture of himself and Granger graced the front page.
Even though he had coerced the picture from that runty Gryffindor that had been in the stands, Colic or whatever his name was. He hadn't really gotten a good look at the photo before he had stuffed it in an envelope to send to the Prophet. It looked completely different in large scale full blown color. The look on his face as he gazed down at her as they lifted up in the air must have been some sort of trick of the light. It looked downright…tender.
The story was pretty much just the details in the anonymous letter he had written. That he and Granger were exclusive, seen together everywhere, bla bla bla. Her credentials, his pedigree, all syrupy light stuff. Thankfully no younger year pictures of Granger. The creme de la creme was that he had asked for his mother's engagement ring, which was a well-known heirloom that had been in his family for centuries. He had done no such thing of course but it would be difficult to prove or disprove and it was vague enough that his family wouldn't protest it.
Just lovely.
He let out a sigh of satisfaction and handed Granger back her paper and stuffed his father's envelope back into his pocket.
"Did you know about this?" She shook her paper at him in a rather threatening way. She was a lot more violent than he had given her credit for. Always prancing around arrayed in her Gryffindor Righteousness about not bullying younger students, and about fairness for all creatures. But surprisingly she wasn't much of a pacifist…she was passionate. And quick to anger. He thought it was very sexy. "This is unacceptable, I can't have mongering reporters making up wild stories about me and splashing my life all over the paper."
"Relax Granger." He pulled an apple out of his pocket that he had intended for a late afternoon snack and polished it on his robes. "This is how we wanted things to look. Serious relationship. You're my Queen, I'm your devoted lackey…you know, your normal Gryffindor romance."
"People are going to ask questions! Did you really ask your mother for her ring?"
He reached out and tugged her closer, the doors would be opening anytime now and people would be streaming out into the courtyard.
"Well, just tell them that the Prophet is always exaggerating and smile." He tucked one of her wayward curls behind her ear and offered her a bite of his apple. She looked appalled and pressed on with her chatter.
"That will work for you because people expect empty headed prattle from you. My friends are going to want the truth." She was starting to sound hysterical. How bizarre was it that he found that adorable. He let his hand trail down her arm and sighed. Her skin was indecently soft.
"So make something up. Just don't make me look bad."
"There is nothing I could possibly say that isn't going to make you look bad." Her voice had taken on that quiet breathless quality that he liked so much. She was close enough that he could count her freckles. Smell her warm scent.
"So tell them to mind their own ruddy business." He leaned in. She was so close. He brushed his lips over hers just as the doors to the hall banged open admitting the first wave of students. She didn't notice. Oh Merlin. Her lips parted and he leaned in closer, brushing her soft lips with his tongue. He dropped his apple to bury his hand in her hair and taste her properly.
CLICK
FLASH
"Malfoy, Do you want to buy this photo too?"
She pulled away from him abruptly.
"YOU!" She scrambled to her feet. "You sent that photo to the prophet. I don't know why I am surprised." She stomped her little foot, gave a little squeal, turned on her heel and left. He looked up at Colic, or Colin, or Creepy, or whatever his name was. It didn't matter…he was going to kill that scrawny little Gryffindor.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Jealousy