Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Fondu Au Noir	By : Wander_Lust Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 77864 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor any of its characters nor am I profiting from this in anyway!

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
The night is anything but peaceful. Lightning flashes lighting the common room for but a second as I enter from the halls, alighting my reflection in the window I am across from. I look eerie in this lighting, pale, thin and ghostly. I move away and across to the boys dormitory. My feet are as light as a feather as I go up the stairs hurriedly till I'm in front of his door. I carefully open the door a crack to peek inside to check if everyone is already asleep. They are. Good.
I open the door further and let myself in not bothering with a disillusioning or silencing charm. I am not afraid to be found here. If I could have my way I wouldn't even bother having a bed in the girls dorms, I would just come sleep here every night.
"Arghm!"
My eyes fall on Ronald Weasley, dead asleep and snoring outrageously. This would be the only reason I would stay away, because of these other loud, dirty, immature boys.
I look away and move again to his bed. His blood red bed curtains are drawn so I reach out and pull them back, my eyes landing on him from where I stand.
Green eyes framed behind glasses readily stare back at me. He is waiting for me, a pleasant surprise. I feel a thrill spread through my body because of this and smile at him as I climb into his bed, holding up his comforter to slip my cold body inside. Immediately the warmth of his body heat engulfs me, along with his scent which I breath in deeply. He doesn't say anything as I do this, just watches me with those eyes that look so different in the darkness.
"Harry," I say around a smile, leaning over to kiss his lips.
Harry pulls away, shushing me with his face unhappy. The smile slips from my own mouth as I eye him with question and hurt at his rejection. He sighs.
"Hermione I told you not to do this anymore." he whisper in a tired sort of voice. I frown at him, my own ire quick to react.
"I never agreed to your demands, Harry." I say, not bothering to lower my voice as he furiously shushes me as he reaches over for his wand. I couldn't care less if I woke anyone up, what matters is Harry and what has been festering in him ever since the start of school term.
"Muffliato! What are you doing Hermione? You could have woken everyone!"
"I don't care!" I burst out, my anger exploding in my chest.
I climb on top of him, using my arms and legs as a means to cage him in; Harry meets my stare with unwavering unimpressed gaze. It frustrates me even more. I feel like hitting him.
"Why are you doing this to me, huh, Harry? What are you punishing me for?" I ask, my face scrunching as I hear the watery edge to my voice. Harry can hear it too, I know because his eyes suddenly soften from their annoyed look. I'm just so angry that my emotions feel out of control. It's only ever like this with Harry.
"I'm not punishing you Hermione. I'm just..." He lets his sentence trail, unable to say whats really on his mind.
But I know already, have known since the start of term.
"Kiss me." I demand. The steeling set to my eyes makes it clear that I'm not looking for coyness. I want a real kiss.
Harry reaches out for me, one hand twining into my hair as he pulls me down on to lay my body on top of his, the other trailing down my spine and pushing my hips down onto his and staying there. I shiver and close my eyes as his lips move over mine.
My own hand goes to his hair as I touch my tongue to his lips for the first time. Harry's reaction shocks me.
His head jerks back as his hips go forward and I feel something, bulging from his pants. His hands are on my waist the next second and practically throwing me off beside him before he curls up on his side away from me.
I sit there stunned staring at his back for a second before I reach out to touch him.
"Harry," I say, placing my hand on his shoulder as I edge near to get a look at his face. Harry hides his face further into his pillows, and shies away from my touch.
"Go to sleep Hermione." he demands, his voice sounding muffled.
I stare down at him debating if I should listen or if I should press but... I lie my head down staring at his back. Had I really just felt what I think I felt? Harry's-my Harry, my brother- erection... It was there, I'd felt it press up into me, as if straining to reach me through layers of clothing...
I blush, all the earlier anger and out of control emotions flying out of me to be replaced with something else entirely, something strange and foreign. I'm not mortified like I should be. I feel hot, strangely curious, a little bit mortified that I don't feel disgusted. There's something I can't ignore in my lower abdomen. It's getting hard to swallow and breath normally. I've never felt this before.
I feel hyper aware as I lay facing his back. He too seems to not be breathing. Is he ashamed? Guilty? Scared?
I don't want him to be. I don't want him to feel scared that I might be disgusted that he reacted that way to me because I love him more than anyone or anything. He's the only thing I have in this world and I cannot lose him.
I scoot closer to him till I'm pressed against his back. I ignore how his body stiffens as my forehead touches the spot between his shoulder blades and I slide my hand around his waist to spoon him. I close my eyes and wait to see if he'll reject my touch again.
Harry takes a hold of my hand with his own and gives it a squeeze, his body relaxing slightly. I smile softly and nestle even closer. Soon I'm lulled to sleep as thunder, lightening and rain wage war outside.

Eyes. I can feel them on me. I don't look to find whose staring. It's not cowardly, I'm not afraid of the stares, I just don't have a reason to acknowledge these eyes. They're not Harry's green eyes. I know it's not him because Harry's eyes are magnetic and instantly when I feel them my body reacts.

It's a natural reaction. One forged when were in our mother's womb. We were once one and then we were split apart but I am still him and he is still me.
I flip the page of my book comfortably despite the weight of these eyes. Being stared at is nothing new since Harry and I were brought back to the wizarding world. The-twins-who-lived, they call us. Unlike for Harry, the eyes that stare at me are no longer filled with awe and reverence. That ended in my first year when my know-it-all goody-two-shoes behavior annoyed everyone around me.
Now the eyes that stare are filled with emotions that alienate me from them. I do not mind. I will not let their ideals belittle the values I hold. They are not worth compromising my education. They are not worth compromising anything.
These wizards and witches that surround me, they are fickle, selfish and ignorant. They don't care about the house elves that they enslaved or the goblins they don't respect. They are fearful, spineless. They look the other way to bigotry, deeming first generation wizards and witches as muggleborns, and unwilling to try and modernize their world, treating what they deem as 'half-breed's like werewolves and centaurs with inequality.
It's what I'm reading about now, reviewing their backwards laws and decrees with blatant disdain in the archive section of the library while I wait for Harry to come so we can walk down to the Great Hall together. He's coming all the way from the Quidditch field so I know it will take him awhile.
I would have liked for him not to do Quidditch at all. When he got the seeker position in our first year I had a go at him. We rowed like never before. I tried reasoning with him citing all the dangers and the negative effects it would have on his schooling. When that didn't work I started yelling and threatening him, saying I wouldn't speak to him anymore. He'd gotten angry then and I'd started to cry and beg him but he still did it. It had been the first time Harry had denied me anything and it hurt worse than any curse.
We still fight about it because no matter what I will never like the sport and I'll always try to sabotage his chances of playing. He shouldn't be doing things that will damage his body; he should be here with me instead, taking an interest in the things that matter like the laws that surround this world we live in and the changes that need to be made in our society.
Plus, I hate the way that Ginny Weasley clings to him. She thinks she's in love with him. I could spot her greedy pathetic affections for him from a mile away. It's ridiculous really. She doesn't even know Harry! So what, they play the same barbaric sport and he's sort of friends with her brother! It doesn't make her anymore special then the other girls that want a piece of the 'wizarding hero'!
But she thinks she's special. I can see it on her face and its getting worse and worse as the years go by. I have to grudgingly admit that Harry might be nicer to her then the other girls because he's been getting closer and closer with Ronald. This is annoying in itself since Ronald and I have never been able to see eye to eye. To me, he's an incompetent, loud-mouthed, buffoon. Many times he'd butt in when I'm trying to convince Harry to not do something daft. I'll admit I get shirty with him easily because he's an outsider and has no business getting involved in anything that has to do with Harry.
Harry likes him though. I don't really understand hwy or how his came to be but he does so I have to put up with his presence at least two times a day. Thankfully, Harry always comes to me at the library alone. I know that Ron is not the only person who finds it barmy how close we are with each other; that Harry would go all the way from the field to the library just so we can go to dinner together when he passes it on his way to get me. His relationship with his sister is nothing like ours but his twin brothers help him to understand surprisingly more than I would give him credit for. He never bothers Harry about it; if he'd did I'd sort him out quickly.
I flip another page and scribble an interesting tidbit onto my parchment to review for later. I notice then that the feeling of being watched is still present but I still don't raise my eyes because-to be frank- I can't be bothered enough to care. Harry is late to come pick me up which is not a big deal. It happens sometimes and I'm a grown woman who can walk to the great hall by herself.
I just don't like it very much. Harry is my other half and I want to be around him as much as possible. I like seeing his face, hearing him laugh and talk more than I like anything else in this world. Other's-whether it be man or woman-feel the same why. They all know that Harry is special.
I pack my belongings and head to the Great Hall sans him. As I walk the halls other faces pass by, staring with their eyes as always. I walk with my eyes straight and my shoulders back. I know this gives me an unapproachable air and I wield this like a sword around this castle. I don't want to be approached and hear these witless peoples thoughts. I had enough of that my first year in the wizarding world.
Once inside the Great Hall it is apparent that the Qudditch team have not yet finished their practice since none of them are in sight. Annoyance bubbles in me as a take a seat a little apart from everyone else at the Gryffindor table facing the exit so I can see when Harry comes in. Angelina must be pushing them hard again which means that Harry will be too tired to sneak out and sleep with me tonight. I hate it when I have to sleep alone in the girls dormitory. It means a restless night unless I can manage to get Madam Pomfrey to give me a dreamless sleep draught.
I notice Malfoy come in looking pale and ferrety as always. I don't expect him to look this way so I'm surprised when he does and our eyes meet. I'm grateful that I hadn't taken a bite of food yet lest I choke. His face is void of its usual sneer that he wears when he looks at me, in fact, it seems almost as if he is about to smile. I don't trust it and find myself not tearing my eyes away from his gaze as he makes his way to his table.
It's no secret the disdain Malfoy feels towards us. He's gotten Harry into more detentions then Ronald can count and he loves to insult me and my classroom tendency's any chance he can get. He irks me to no end. Not because of the immature comments he makes about me- I can take any bout of criticism or insults- its the way he treats Harry and the way that he loves to goad him into trouble. It's unacceptable in my book.
I'm distracted from our little stare off at the entrance doors reopening. The Quidditch team enters impressively in their gear chatting amicably with flushed dirty faces. I spot Harry among them easily, a Weasley on either side. He's smiling down at Ginny whose talking excitedly to him, reveling in his attention. I see clearly the moment Ginny decides to take initiative and places her hand on Harry's arm as she gives him a womanly smile.
I'm up out of my seat in the next beat. Eyes are on me again but I don't feel them. I feel anger and disgust at this girls filthy intentions. My eyes are locked on Harry who finally gazes back at me as I approach.
"Hermione," His green eyes are surprised as they meet mine and I hold them with a glaring force.
Without a word, I snatch the arm Ginny is still touching and pull him away heading for the Great Hall doors. I can imagine what they all must be saying in there now. 'There she goes again! That bossy Hermione Potter is always dragging Harry off some place! Probably forcing the poor bloke to study in the library for an exam half a year away without his dinner! Merlin, what a bitch!'
I've heard those exact words uttered before. I do not care. Let them say whatever petty things that come to their minds; they just don't understand.
Ginny wouldn't say these things, though. No, the red haired love-sick fool would think herself too above the gossip but she'll be staring after us with clenched fists. I just know it. She'll be wondering where I've taken him and why and what exactly is wrong with me that I have to butt into their time together at every chance I get.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" I can hear his concern in his voice but I don't answer as I march us away. I take the secret passageway behind a tapestry to get us three floors up and away from everyone else but it doesn't seem far enough. I'm pulling at him incessantly, my minds eye paranoid picturing Ginny chasing after us.
"Hermione!" Harry digs his heels in, easily stopping me as he places his arms on my shoulders and turns me to face him. His eyes search my own earnestly worried but its not enough. I wiggle out of his grip and slide into his arm, nestling myself against his chest. I breathe in his scent. It's a clean smell, his smell. Familiar and comforting.
"Hermione?" His hand gently holds the back of my head, sliding his hand soothingly over my hair as his other arm holds me. "Did something happen?"
"No," I reply holding myself against him for a second more before pulling back to look at him. "Are you not going to meet with me in the room of requirement tonight?"
Harry looks away from me and I'm instantly annoyed. I know what he's going to say before he even says it.
"I don't think that I will, Hermione, and you shouldn't come to my room again if I don't come. We keep getting really close to being caught and I don't want to risk it."
"Since when did a little risk stop you from doing something? Why don't you tell me what you're really thinking Harry?" I wait for him to say it, to be honest with me again because I know that he thinks we're getting to old to sleep in each others beds. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't realize how well I can read him.
My face morphs into one of disappointed anger and I turn sharply on my heel and walk away knowing full well that Harry will chase me.
"Don't be mad at me, Hermione, please! I just..."
A flurry of unforgiving rage sweeps through me. I quickly spin around and harshly grab hold of his wrist before I burst open the closest door to us and push him inside, using momentum to then slam him against the door where I harshly slap my hand right next to his head. Harry doesn't even wince at any of this, just watches me fixedly behind his bespectacled eyes.
"I know exactly what your 'just' means! You think you're out growing me and that you don't need me anymore-"
"No, you're wrong Hermione," he interrupts, his voice brooking no room for arguments. It's a tone rarely used on me, normally is vice-versa. I know that my words aren't true but I'm looking to get a rise of him so he's aggravated into confessing whatever issue he's been having. His response isn't as satisfying as I would have liked for it to be. I give him an unimpressed glare.
"Am I? You've got a funny way of showing me I'm wrong. Your actions actually convey that I am one hundred percent right! You've been spending a lot more time with the Gryffindor quidditch team-"
"That's because we're trying to win every game before Christmas break!" I ignore him, talking over him pointedly.
"-And, and, you don't get to the Room of Requirement until way later when you know perfectly well that I'm waiting for you to come! You know I can't sleep until you get there and yet you still don't care. And then you get mad at me when I go to your room instead! You spend forever chatting with the massive idiot Weasley or playing that barbaric wizards chess! And you let that Weasley girl flirt with you all the time!"
Finally Harry looks away and there's a hint of guilt on his face. He can't deny it because he knows I'm right. Finally he has given me something I can work with to push him closer to the truth I'm craving. I move closer to him still, completely invading his space as I glare into his eyes.
"Is this because of what happened last night?" I ask roughly, putting the real issues at hand to the fore front so they can't be avoided. Harry blanched, squeezing his eyes shut as if I physically struck him with my words.
"Don't," he bit out, muscle in his jaw clenching, "just don't."
"Harry, I don't care about it!" I say, my eyes trying to connect with his so he can see the truth in them. "I could never be upset at anything you do to me!" I lay my forehead on his. "You could kill me and I wouldn't even mind. I love you Harry. We are all each other have."
"Hermione." he breathes, sounding tired. I press a kiss to his lips. He doesn't move, doesn't breath. I don't care, his lips feel soft and his scent is surrounding me. He pulls his head away and easily escapes from my arms.
"I have to go Hermione. Dinner is going to end soon." he excuses pathetically, his eyes not meeting mine as he quickly escapes from me. I watch him go, silent, lips pressed into a hard line. I don't like this. I hate this distance.
But I let him go.
I stand there for a few minutes to breath, to calm myself. When I feel ready I open up the door and head back for the library. The sick churning feeling in my gut that's screaming at me to fix whatever this is with Harry is one that can only fade away with the distraction of books. I need this distraction.
Since I already finished all my reading and homework for school I debate in my head which my own pet project I should throw myself into. Should I further my ideas for S.P.E.W? Start an outline on all the laws and decrees in the ministry and the pros and cons of them?
The library is gives me a great comfort. I place my things in my favorite spot and roam the shelves for the books I need, all the while trying not to think of Harry. I levitate a bunch of thick tombs back to my table. Tort reforms and Alternatives: Magical Creatures is the first that I crack open along with an archive of dropped cases involving werewolves.
I start to read but the words aren't sticking in my mind. I keep seeing Harry's face- eyes downcast, body language uncomfortable and defensive- and it hurts. I'm frustrated with it all. How did this happen? Why? When did everything change?
As twins, we have always been close. We never left each other's side, sharing the pain of the Dursley's... I just don't understand it. We have always, always, done everything together, needed each other, needed the comfort of the others touch to compensate for the Dursley's harsh hands.
How could Harry actually expect me to accept his behavior when it had no reasoning and made no sense? Its not a question of him not needing me anymore. He will always need me, so why?
Since summer Harry has been like this and I just can't stand it any longer. Every time I press for answers, demand a reason, forcibly act like nothing is wrong, he reacts negatively and draws further away. I scrub my face with frustration, letting out a little scream of indignation as I pull on the roots of my hair.
I feel desperate. Scared.
What if Harry pulls so far away and I'm left dead in the water?
I shudder as something hard and heavy settles in my stomach.
But Harry would never do that to me. He knows...he wouldn't. Couldn't.
I take a deep breath, remove my elbows from the table and stare down at the open pages before me. I force those treacherous feelings down and concentrate on the words before me.
Tort: Common Law Werewolves Series
Mandatory Registration- All werewolves must register as a werewolf to the Ministry of Magic and be issued a Werewolf Identification Card sixty days after first transformation. Failure to comply will result in a 10,000 galleon fine that must be paid within thirty days. Failure to pay within the thirty days will result in a 10% increase each day fine goes unpaid. Risk of arrest after three years.
Worker Torts:
Workers Right- Werewolf may apply for a Werewolf Workers Right Card. If approved, werewolf pays first installment of 500 galleons, second installment of 50 galleons.
Shopkeepers Privilege- Shopkeepers have the right to deny work to all werewolves (registered or unregistered) unless werewolf has a Ministry appointed Werewolf Workers Right Card.
Assumption of Risk- If plaintiff voluntarily and knowingly hires a werewolf it bars and reduces plaintiffs's right to recovery against a werewolf if werewolf can prove plaintiff knowingly assumed the risks at issue inherent to the dangers of the werewolf.
I continue reading, falling into a familiar pattern as I scribble the torts furiously on my parchment, meticulously highlighting with different colors the torts that need the most work. The issue of Harry slowly slipping away if only for a little while.

I blink my eyes sleepily, finding complete darkness all around me, my head resting on the pages of a book. It's not the first time that its happen and wont be last. Every time I have fallen asleep here, Harry would come and get me, carry me to the room of requirement so we can sleep.

My heart responds to the thought that even despite his earlier coldness, Harry has still come to get me. I sit up, still sleep muddled, to find a dark mass beside me as I expected.
"Harry," I say with a sleepy loving smile. "you came for me."
I reach out for him eagerly.
"Wrong."
I freeze, my hand stilling in mid air as an icy fear grips my heart. My mind goes blank as I stare up in terror at the figure, the image distorting into a big fat menacing giant towering over me. I react, flinging myself backwards without a sound, bumping my elbow on the corner of the table on the way down. Despite the pain, I don't make a sound.
The towering mass doesn't speak as it normally should. It petrifies me further. It moves closer and I scramble like a crab backwards until I bump harshly against a bookcase.
I press my lips together as I press back against the shelves, the hard edges of books digging into my skin. The mass is upon me. I close my eyes and turn my head away, barely even breathing. Nausea is building up in me, along with a bleakness, a disgust, a horrible debilitating repulsion. I whirl in these oppressive feelings as the mass does nothing.
And then I feel it, something touching my face. I squeeze my eyes tighter, my hands clenched so tightly my nails are digging into my skin. The nausea threatens to spill over and there's only one retreat from this, one way to escape. Harry.
"Potter, open your eyes."
I concentrate on Harry. He's here with me. I can feel him.
"Potter, snap out of it!"
His heart beating in time with mine, or hands clasped tightly, fingers interlaced and were flouting, our naked bodies hovering in a black abyss. Like inside our mother's womb.
"Potter! Oh, sod it..."
I could stay like this forev-Slap!
My head whips to the side with the force of the hit, smacking into the shelf behind. I blink furiously as tears of pain swell in my eyes.
"Shit- didn't mean to hit you that hard." A casual voice drawls not sounding all that apologetic. "Then again you can consider it payback for hitting me in third year."
I know this voice. That pompous drawl marred by a hint of anxiety and that foul arrogant way of speaking can only belong to one.
"Malfoy?" I hiss, my eyes adjusting now to the darkness to make out his tell-tale platinum blond hair.
"Five points to Gryffindor for stating the obvious." I ignore his sarcasm, my eyes noting the blankness of his face and the cod gray eyes fixed on my forehead.
"What are you doing here? It's past curfew, you know." I hiss, wincing at the throbbing pain that suddenly shot through my temple now that my shock wore off.
"I can ask you the same thing, Potter, if I didn't already know that you feel asleep studying like a good little know-it-all. Besides, its my night to do prefect rounds, did you forget? Tsk, tsk, you're losing your touch."
I grit my teeth in annoyance. The insolent smirk on his face makes want to slap him and he's kneeling way to close to me, still trapping me against the bookcase. I huff in annoyance and nearly choke on it as Malfoy's foreign scent invades my nose. He smells nothing like Harry. He smells rich and clean and a hint manly with some cologne.
In all the years I've been at Hogwarts I've never encountered another's male scent like this and it throws me off. I'm used to the smells around me of my housemates. I'm very sensitive to them and I don't mind their scent because it's familiar. Maybe because Malfoy wears an undoubtedly expensive cologne I feel out of my element?
"What? No retort, Pott-"
"Get away from me Malfoy." I push him away as I speak without breathing, about to stand. Two hands clamp down on my shoulders, holding me still and my eyes shoot up to Malfy's face looming over me, a sliver of the moonlight hitting half of his face. His eyes are hard as they meet mine, his mouth sneering down at me. The earlier panic returns at full force as his scent surrounds me again at my gasping breathing.
"Is that anyway to talk to a prefect that just caught you in the library after hours?"
Its ridiculously hard for me to breath. I can't seem to get the air into my lungs properly because his scent is too overwhelming. My throat feels tight, closed off to the point where I can't speak to tell Malfoy to bug off.
I can see him noticing all this and he's watching as if its its an interesting sitcom show. Oh, god, I think I'm going to pass out. I blink away the tears I didn't even know where pooling in my eyes, blurring the whole world.
"You really are losing it, aren't you, Potter? Having panic attacks just from being alone in the dark with a boy whose not your brother. You're really pitiful." Is it my panicked state that makes his voice sound almost tender? The hands on my shoulder slowly rub down my arms and back up in a soothing matter but I know this can't be.
"Get...away..." I gasp out, relieved to be expelling some air not contaminated by his scent. One of his hands leave me and then a sensation runs throughout my body, making a tremor shoot down my spine.
I'm powerless as my whole body relaxes and my breathing returns to normal. Unable to control my relaxed muscles I slump forward right into Malfoy's arms. I know that he used some sort of spell on me, most likely the laxo corpus charm. I'm irrationally mad that Malfoy would actually cast a spell on a fellow prefect even if it is not a dangerous one.
I wish I could push myself off of him but-similar tp pertfiicus totalus- the laxo corpus charm renders the body unable to move, relaxing the muscles to such a state its like becoming boneless, even the tongue can't function so I can't even tell Malfoy off.
"There- much better, right, Potter?" the prat dares to say with that damnable smirk on his face. I wish I can signify in any way how much I would like to turn him back into a ferret. He laughs meanly at my helplessness, his gray eyes alight with joy at my expense. "You know, I like you much better this way. Speechless and pliant." he says nearly startling me out of my skin as his arms wrap around my as he stand up, carrying my like a princess.
I'm in utter disbelief as my head lulls back, and even more so when he reaches out to place my head against his chest and my arms tucked across my stomach so they're not hanging. Then his hand flicks awkwardly in his hand and all my things are neatly packed and levitating in front of us.
I completely don't understand this situation. I fervently wish I had control over at least my voice so I can ask Malfoy what in the world he is playing at? Not only is he semi helping me by forcing my body to relax from its panicked state, but instead of levitating me, he's carrying me like a princess instead of just leaving me there like I would normally expect Malfoy to do.
Everything about this is odd. This goes against Malfoy's typical behavior. I scramble my mind for a reasoning as he carries me down the hallways heading for Gryffindor tower.
His heart beat is a steady thump against my ear. I'm aware of every part of my body touching his. His hands, large hands, with long fingers are against the bare skin of my thighs, the other curled around the slope of my shoulder. I can feel the movement of his legs as he walks. His strides are very long. His body is surprising big. Being in his arm is nothing like being in Harry's. I'm dwarfed here.
Only Harry as ever held me like this. He's carried me as I slept from the library to the Room of Requirements so we can sleep. And when we do our bodies a line perfectly because we just fit together like a matching puzzle piece. Most people think Harry is short because standing next to the tall lanky form of Ronald Weasley Harry seems dwarfed and almost weak looking.
But he's strong. He can easily carry me to the Room of Requirement even if its just a ways down from the library.
Malfoy carries me easily all the way from the library to Gryffindor Tower. The fat lady is snoring away as we approach. My world momentarily turns tospsy turvy as Malfoy maneuvers me so that I'm slumped vertically against the wall next to the portrait hole. As he does this hands trail up my legs, over my back, seemingly everywhere.
If my body wasn't so relaxed I know I'd be having another panic attack. When he's down, Malfoy's enter length is pressed up against me, holding my body up with his. His hard chest is pressed over my own. I'm aware of how different his body is from mine and from Harry's. He's wider, taller, and seemingly stronger. It puts me on edge. It frightens me.
I want Harry.
I want to push him away from me with all my might. My head falls forward to Malfoy's chest and his smell invades me again. I feel disgusted. I wonder if Malfoy is doing this as some sort of punishment or if he's doing this to generally help me. Does he realize how much I hate that he has touched me like this? Does he know how much it makes my skin crawl that his hands have ran up my skin?
No one has ever so much as held my hand other than Harry, let alone put there hand on my waist and wrapped their arms around me.
Malfoy removes one hand to claps my jaw and lift my face up to his.
I can't really make out his expression in this darkness but I can feel his eyes on roaming my face. I want to ask him what he's looking for...why he's holding me like this and why he hasn't let me go yet...
His face slowly descends closer and closer and closer still. I can feel his breath ghosting over my lips and...oh god is he going to kiss me? The thudding of my heart beat is so loud in this darkness. He's breathing pretty fast himself and I hate how we're breathing in each others breaths. And then I can feel him moving closer, past my lips, his cheek sliding against my own and his breathing is stirring my hair. I can feel his hot breath against the shell of my ear. It feels intimate and I hate it.
He hovers there for moment just breathing. Surrounding himself in me as I'm forced to be surrounded by him. That repulsion is back, making me feel nauseous all over again. What is he going to do to me now? What ideas is he coming up with in his head?
And then I feel his lips on my ear.
"Finite."
Malfoy wrenches himself away from me as he says the spell and the sudden release coupled with his sudden departure has me crashing down to the floor along with my stuff that he let fall to the floor.
I look up to find him already down the hall with those massive strides. I scramble through my things for my wand, my greedy fingers curling around it as I point it at Malfoy's back.
My hands are shaking and I know I look a total fright. It's all Malfoy's fault. I want to hex him. Hurt him so bad he'll have to be sent to the hospital wing. I keep my wand trained as best as I can on him with all of my trembling until he turns the corner down the stairs. Even then I still keep my wand up as I force myself to gather my things in case he chose to come back.
I should have hexed him. I should of hexed him.
I keep thinking this as I hurriedly pick up my things with one arm, then speak the password to enter. Only when the portrait hole is closed behind me-fat lady grumbling all the while- do I lower my wand.
I stumble back against the wall of the little tunnel and take a steadying breath. I'm back, safe, in my tower where Harry is close by. Harry. I'm immediately angry at him.
Why didn't he come get me from the library? How could he just go to bed without finding out if I was in the tower or not? And now look what happened...Malfoy...
I shiver as I collapse down onto the sofa in front of the fireplace. For a moment I feel Malfoy's hands roaming up my leg, his body pressed against mine, all over again. My anger intensifies. If Harry had come for me then this wouldn't have happened at all but no-Harry just has to try to distance himself from me.
I turn my head to look at the boys staircase. I'm tempted to go up there and crawl into Harry's bed but I won't. Not tonight.
Let him wake up alone!
I climb up the girls staircase and to my bed. I meticulously put my clothes away and wash myself until I'm satisfied. When I finally crawl into bed, the canopy drapes pulled all around me, I wonder whom is really being punished being alone in their bed.
The answer is an easy one.
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Fondu Au Noir