Until Again | By : RynStar15 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 15443 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter and do not make any money by using the world of J. K Rowling here. |
Nearly every day it was something new. She’d catch him looking at her across the hall during dinner. He would brush shoulders with her in the corridor when there was plenty of room to go around. He’d follow her into the store cupboard during Potion’s class when she needed more ingredients. He never said a word, but the occurrences happened more and more throughout the years. She never told anyone about it.
It wasn’t until fourth year that she noticed things change. Walking into the Great Hall on Viktor’s arm she’d caught eyes with him, watched his go wide, his mouth drop slightly. That was the first time she’d ever responded. She had smiled back, watched his jaw clench. Worried she’d done something wrong.
She tried to ignore it. In front of people and to her face he was the same cruel, arrogant boy. The snide remarks were fewer and further between, but those smoldering looks frequented.
It wasn’t long before those eyes invaded her dreams, her spare moments. Wasn’t much longer before she was sneaking her own looks, hoping to catch him in the act. She grew more worried that someone would notice the smile she gave him, the smirk he returned with. Someone had to notice that they bumped into each other far too often in the halls, that they sat in far too close proximity in the library.
When she realized on the first day of their fifth year that he was a prefect as well her heart fluttered. He’d caught her eye in the prefect car on the Hogwarts Express and winked at her. She’d felt her knees go weak. The growls emanating from Ron kept her focused, however, on the very real fact that he was everything she hated.
She was nervous the first night they shared patrol together, but nothing happened. She hadn’t even run into him. Doubted he’d even shown up. The second time she wished vaguely that she would catch a glimpse of him. But there was nothing. By the third mutual patrol she realized how much she wished he would make some kind of move, something that would explain this irrational behavior. The looks and brushes had become a little more than a little unnerving and she was finding it hard to remember who it was she was dealing with.
It was mid-December the first time it happened. She walked the corridors, wand in hand, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders, watching her breath mist before her. Arms surrounded her and her heart jumped into her throat, a muffled scream falling to the gloved hand clapped over her mouth. Before she even had time to raise her wand she was shoved against the wall, the hand being replaced by a pair of lips. Horrified, she shoved against her assailant hard enough so that he took a step back into the moonlight streaming from a high window, her wand at his chest. He looked down at her, his eyes dark as the night around them, his gaze one of pure desire. She kept her wand raised until his hand came forward and lowered it. Softer this time, he stepped forward, pressing her into the wall, his entire body enfolding her. When his lips met hers again she was ready, her face tilted up to meet his.
She knew she would later dream of the feel of him, warm and hard, his lips eager. His fingers dug into her, clenching her neck and arm so tight it was almost painful, but erotic in the most primal way, evidence to all he held back.
When he pulled away they were both panting, their breath fusing in the frosty air. Their eyes held for a long moment, the tension palpable.
And then he was gone as if he had never been, the only evidence of his presence the heat from where he’d touched her. She stood there for a long time, her fingers pressed against her lips before leaving the occurrence to fade away into the night.
The next day he had avoided her at all cost, not meeting her gaze when she snuck one across the hall, not searching her out in the corridors or even the library after dinner. And then it was Christmas break and he was gone and Hermione was whisked to Headquarters to be with everyone after Arthur was attacked. Seeing the distress upon his family and friend’s faces and feeling the tight fear of possibly losing the only father figure who understood her, she was reminded harshly of her betrayal. She was set, therefore, by the time they returned to Hogwarts that she would ignore him completely until he got the point that she wanted nothing to do with him or his kind. Her loyalty was to Harry and the Order and she would not waver.
And so the weeks passed under the tyranny of Umbridge and she continued to assist Harry in DA lessons and ignored Draco’s every advance. Well, she would have if there were any.
It wasn’t until spring began to blossom that she started to feel his eyes on her again, noticed his immediate propinquity in the halls, his lingering presence in the library. She told herself it was only because he was a part of the Inquisitorial Squad, nothing else. He suspected she was up to something. And why shouldn’t he? Several DA members were reporting being followed. She knew it was only a matter of time before they were caught.
She was more observant during patrol in case he decided to repeat their previous encounter. But he was nowhere to be seen.
As the end of the year approached she was immersed in O.W.L practice tests, the library dimmed except for her table. Madam Pince allowed her to stay after hours as long as she closed up after herself. Rubbing her tired eyes she pushed herself to her feet and dragged several tomes back to their places on the shelf, knowing she wouldn’t get anything more done tonight. She never heard a sound before she was shoved face-first against a shelf, the book in her hands smashing her fingers against the wood. She shrieked before her mouth was covered and she cursed herself for leaving her wand in her bag next to her chair. She struggled but her captor was much too strong. She whimpered as she recognized his scent, that cologne which seemed to permeate her robes after a simple brush in the hall. His hard body pressed her into the shelving, his hot breath on her neck. She felt a thrill of fear, but also of something completely foreign when his lips found the crease of her neck and shoulder, his teeth gently nipping. Determined not to let him know how much this simple act affected her she bit her lip until it hurt, trying to dislodge him. The book slipped from her fingers to thunk onto the floor as his hands found her hips, rounding to span across her tiny waist, pulling her back so that she could feel his erection against her bum. Every touch was like fire spreading throughout her body and she was finding it harder to remember that she was supposed to be fighting him off.
He’s the enemy, he hates you, she thought, attempting to pull away again. But he only held stronger, his hands rising to cup her breasts and she gasped in outrage, shoving at him but he only squeezed harder, his lips rising to her ear sending shivers down her spine.
Sounds of distress spilled from her as his hands snaked their way under her sweater before she could stop them. They were on her bare breasts, massaging and thumbing her nipples and she hated the sharp shocks of pleasure that drove straight to her core from it.
The sound of glass breaking had him tearing away from her, running for the door. She sank like a puddle to the floor and for once was thankful for Mrs. Norris as she wound her way around the legs of a table, the shattered lamp strewn across the floor.
He found her again a week later as she exited Potions several minutes after the rest of the class, having stayed behind to question Snape about the assigned essay. She gasped as an arm shot out to drag her into a dark alcove, sparing no time in capturing her lips, his hands on either side of her face, holding her still as his lips worked hers, dragging an unwanted moan from her. She didn’t even think as her hands flew to his shoulders and he squeezed between her slightly parted legs to press against her core eliciting a harsh groan from her. He grabbed her thighs and drew her up, undulating his hips against hers, sending white hot waves of need shooting through her. She couldn’t even comprehend the consequences of her actions, her entire being engulfed in his actions, in her desire.
She couldn’t seem to draw in enough air as his hand kneaded her bum, his fingers brushing over her panties which suddenly felt wet. She tried to pull away, embarrassed, but he only shoved his fingers beneath the fabric and straight into her, causing her to cry out in surprise and, horribly, pleasure. His other hand shot up to cover her mouth, his eyes wide, and she was forced to cling to him so as not to sink to the floor. He pressed closer to help keep her aloft, and the two of them just stared at each other, listening for signs that she had been heard.
Staring into his steely grey eyes she was suddenly all too aware of the situation she had somehow found herself in and shoved against him in horror and disgust, her legs dropping to the floor, but he rammed her back against the wall and his fingers pumped harshly into her until she was keening, the sensations unlike anything she’d ever imagined. Her knees buckled and she was forced to grab his hard shoulders to stay upright as his lips found hers once more with bruising force.
She couldn’t stop the rocking of her hips against him as the pleasure built up inside her until she felt like a dam ready to burst. She whimpered as liquid heat cascaded through her over and over, her entire body feeling like a wound cord. She felt like she was scrambling for something just out of reach…
“Don’t fight it,” he growled into her ear, the baritone of his voice flooding through her, more erotic than she’d ever realized. Abruptly he hooked his fingers and that dam exploded, her entire body arching like a bow, her mouth open in a scream that was drowned in ecstasy.
He was gone before she came down from her high.
She spent the next few days in retched turmoil. What she’d experienced had been so incredible, so invigorating, and yet at the same time she felt like a traitor. How could she carry on with him when she was working so hard against him? And why was he doing this in the first place? Was it some sort of sick, twisted power trip for him to make her fall apart? Didn’t he hate her as much as she hated him? It certainly seemed so when they weren’t alone. And did she care? She could just as easily turn this on him, make him need her, make him think about her all the bleeding time; force him to wonder if he was doing the right thing. Because she knew it was wrong of her to continue this. And some part of her loved it simply for that reason.
She wasn’t hurting anything, not really. No one knew, no one suspected. She was the good girl. They would never imagine that their little bookworm angel was keeping a dark, dirty secret. And it wasn’t as if she was turning to his side; she was still helping Harry, still dedicated in bringing down You-Know-Who. So what if she was eliciting in immoral activities with someone? She was free to do whatever she liked with whomever she liked. Besides, there was no proof that he was actually with the other side; he was simply a snobbish prick. There was nothing wrong, therefore, for her to continue seeing him. In secret.
And so, for the first time, she sought him out. It was nearly two weeks later when she finally gained the courage and she told the boys she was running to the library before it closed for a book she already had tucked in her trunk upstairs. She knew he was patrolling the third floor and waited for him in an empty classroom, the door cracked the slightest amount so she could see out of it. She listened for his footsteps, her heart banging in her throat, and when she finally saw his silver-blonde head she stuck her wand out of the crack and quickly disarmed him, pushing the door open to catch his wand. His head snapped to her, fury radiating from every hard muscle. She smiled and waved his wand in front of her, stepping back into the dark of the classroom, taunting him. He smirked and followed her inside, snapping the door shut, throwing them into pitch black. His hands were on her in a heartbeat, his lips taking hers with vigor, shoving her backwards until the back of her legs slammed against a desk. He lifted her onto it and her hands scrambled eagerly under his sweater to feel him, his soft skin, his hard muscles. His own hands were tearing at her clothes, fingers pinching her nipples, gripping her thigh, dragging her even harder against him. One hand snaked between them to cup her mound, stroking her and causing her to gasp in pleasure. She grabbed his head so tightly she knew it must hurt but he only growled and bit her bottom lip, hard. She whimpered as heat flooded through her and she ached to feel that incredible bliss he had given her before. Rubbing against his hand she tried to convey her need, heard the rumble of his chuckle.
“You want me to make you come again, don’t you?” he murmured. She nodded, lifting her hips higher against him, kissing his neck, tasting the salt of his skin as his skimmed her underwear down her legs. His other hand groped her breast, massaging it before rising to cup the front of her throat, squeezing firmly, not quite hard enough to cut off her air supply but enough to get her attention. “Ask me nicely.”
“What?” she asked and his grip tightened while the fingers of his other hand continued to explore her sopping core.
“Ask me nicely,” he repeated, his digits poised just in front of her entrance.
“P-please,” she ventured.
“Again.”
“Please,” she moaned, rotating her hips, seeking his touch. She felt his teeth on her throat and sucked in a shaky breath, jerking when he thrust his fingers roughly into her. He worked her hard and fast, her head falling back, her nails digging into anything they could find. Her mind went blank but for the hot waves of pleasure scoring through her. She couldn’t catch a full breath, his free hand was everywhere, taking in all of her while his mouth kept her reeling as it sought out ever more sensitive areas of her body she’d never even known existed.
“You like it when I touch you like this, don’t you?” he growled. She nodded against his shoulder. “Do you feel dirty fucking around with me?” Again, she nodded, kissing up his neck, searching for his mouth. “Knew you liked being dirty. Acting so innocent all the time. But I know better.”
She screamed as he bit down hard on the apex of her shoulder and neck and the orgasm ripped through her, leaving her breathless in its wake. He laid her back against the desk and took her mouth ferociously. Grabbing her hand he thrust it to the front of his pants where his erection strained against the material. She fingered it nervously, unsure of what to do. She was still debating when a crash sounded down the hall. He cursed harshly, pulling away from her.
“You owe me,” he snapped, readjusting himself while snatching his wand from the desk beside her. Easing the door open he looked both ways before slipping out, stealing one last smirk back at her.
***
The end of term was nearing and she was immersed in her upcoming exams and the fact that Harry was having more and more dreams. She worried he wasn’t keeping up with his Occlumency on purpose.
She caught his eye in the halls and he would smirk, letting her know he hadn’t forgotten about her keeping up on her end of the deal. Her stomach fluttered with nerves and excitement at the very thought, but the fight against Umbridge had mounted to an all-out war and she could hardly spare time to study let alone plan a secret rendezvous.
It was stifling in the Great Hall where the fifth years were packed in, a large hourglass ticking away the time while she scribbled hastily on her History of Magic exam. She looked up with the others at the commotion and leapt to her feet when she saw Harry on the ground, writhing in pain, clutching his scar.
“Remain seated, please!” the wrinkled wizard observing their testing called out as everyone was now leaning over their desks to see what was going on. “If I see one single person out of their chair you will receive an automatic ‘T’!”
She retook her seat but watched him lean over Harry anxiously, glancing at Ron who likewise looked worried. She heard Harry announce that he was fine but wished to be excused. He caught her eye upon exiting and she had trouble concentrating on the rest of the exam, simply wishing it to be over so she could check on him.
She had reservations about the dream he’d had, sure it was Voldemort luring him into a trap. But she agreed to watch his back while he checked everything out at Headquarters. Wand at the ready, she was still caught unprepared when the door banged open and she was thrown against the wall, the back of her head smacking against stone so that stars burst in front of her eyes. Pushing herself to a sitting position she tried to call out to Harry to warn him but her mouth was covered by a beefy hand and she was dragged to her feet, struggling as she watched Umbridge yank Harry’s head out of the fire by his hair. She could hear the two of them fighting but as she was shoved roughly against the wall she caught two grey eyes across the room and her heart stopped.
“-you foolish boy. Take his wand,” she heard Umbridge say and watched him rip Harry’s wand from his limp hand, his body bowed back excruciatingly low. “Hers too.”
She tried to fight Millicent off but it was no use, the girl was much larger than she and her wand was wrested from her easily. She looked back up at him where he was leaning against the window sill, twirling Harry’s wand in the air, smirking.
She didn’t allow herself to think about the sting of his betrayal until much later as she lay in the hospital wing in more pain than she’d ever felt in her life. She’d been too busy fighting for their lives to really let it sink in. She could still see him silhouetted against the setting sun, could see the triumph gleaming in his eyes. How could he do this to her? She had thought they’d had…something. Certainly there was something. Why else would he have singled her out like this? She wasn’t naive enough to think she was his only…encounter, and certainly not anything more than that…but had it meant nothing? All of their sneaking around, stolen glances…was it just a game for him?
One thing was for certain: she was never going to see him again. She had learned her lesson, a hard one, but she had learned. She would not be fooled again. Men like him only wanted one thing. He’d probably had a real laugh about it with his Slytherin mates and her face burned with humiliation, tears of pain, physical and emotional, drenching her pillow. She looked at Ron snoring quietly on the bed next to her, the bandages hiding the deep welts she’d seen earlier that day when she’d first come around, disoriented and scared. But he had calmed her, explained what had happened, even sat next to her and patted her hand awkwardly when her eyes welled up with the news of Sirius. He had been full of concern for her, telling her how they’d all thought she was done for. Her heart had squeezed at his words and she knew. He was the man she should be thinking about. Who cared about him when she had someone as sweet and wonderful as Ron who obviously cared for her? He wasn’t half the man Ron was and she was stupid to waste her tears on him.
She sucked in a painful breath as she rolled onto her back and nearly screamed when she saw a dark figure looming over her. She watched as he put a finger to his lips and anger boiled inside her.
“You!” she hissed. “How dare you-”
“I had to see you.”
“Get out of here,” she growled, shaking with rage at his audacity. “You have no right-”
“I know. But there are things you don’t understand-”
“You’re right. I don’t understand how you are still here. Get away from me.”
“I will. You just have to answer one thing for me.”
“I don’t have to answer anything, especially for you. If you don’t leave this second I will call Madam Pomfrey-”
“And I will just come right back. All you have to do is answer one question for me, honestly, and you will never see me again outside of the classroom.”
She contemplated his proposal. What could it hurt? With a quick glance to ensure Ron was still sleeping soundly, she ground her teeth.
“I answer this question and you will leave me and my friends alone?”
“Answer it honestly and I will never seek you out, never contact you, never look your way again.”
Good enough for her. “Fine. What is it?”
“You felt something when you kissed me, didn’t you?”
Ron snorted and shifted just then but he never took his eyes off her. She stared up into his shadowy face and steeled herself. He had sold her and her friends out, nearly gotten them all killed. Ron, despite all his faults, would never do that. He had stood by Harry, never complained when he was shunned aside even though she could see the pain in his eyes. He was loyal, caring, brave. Everything this vile snake wasn’t.
“No,” she lied, watching his eyes flame. “Now leave.”
He stood there a moment longer, his face hard, before turning on his expensive heel and striding out of the infirmary.
The day she left the hospital wing she was walking up to Gryffindor Tower alone, the halls eerily quiet as the students took advantage of the sunny grounds. Her heart sat heavy in her chest with the knowledge that everything had changed, irrevocably. The world knew Voldemort was back and the war was on. Nothing would be as it was. Their young lives were about to get a rough shove into maturity.
She strolled to her bed, her brow furrowed when she saw a folded piece of parchment lying on her pillow. Looking around to ensure everything else was untouched she picked it up and opened it, her heart clenching.
Should have been honest.
***
XOXO
RynStar15
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