Chapter Text
Keep your head down, get good marks, talk to no one.
Keep your head down, get good marks, talk to no one.
Keep your head down, get good marks, talk to no one.
That was his mantra for the year. Keeping his head down was easy. All his friends were either dead or yanked from school by their families, hiding in disgrace. Returning to school was conditional to the success of his probation and he actually wanted to finish his schooling. Replace the last two horrid years with better ones, and a better one constituted trying to remain as invisible as possible.
Get good marks was also a fairly easy task, especially when you keep your head down. Most of his time was spent in his room or in a secluded part of the library. His head was thrown into books, assignments and side work Professor Slughorn gave him as his teaching assistant. His marks were the best they had ever been, even with all the catch up work he’s been finishing. Something he was proud of.
Talking to no one was going well, because no one wanted to talk to him. Which was…fine. Understandable. He wouldn’t dare to act like his place in the war never happened. Draco carried the blame and hate with strong shoulders but a weak neck. Sometimes it would weigh a bit heavier than most days, but still, he didn’t dare complain. When a fourth year hexed him, he said nothing, did nothing. The lad’s uncle died in the final battle, by a death eater Draco had never talked to, but the association was there nonetheless.
So talking to no one was maybe the easiest one to do, but also the hardest one to handle as of late. Only because Hermione Granger’s mantra was apparently ‘Follow Draco around, study with Draco and talk to Draco.’
He had no idea what her issue was or why she thought he was worth talking to. He apologized to her, she was the first person he apologized to actually. He wrote a letter, presented it to her immediately after the first feast and gave a very straight forward but thought out apology verbally as he handed over the parchment. She accepted the verbal one with some hesitation then asked him to stay as she read the note.
“I don’t think that’s best. It’s—“ He tried to warn her that his apology note was four pages long, both sides taken up on the paper by his rather small and precise handwriting. He popped his knuckles, a nervous habit, the crack making her wide dark brown eyes meet his. Her mouth slightly parted.
“This is…longer than I thought.” She commented then eyed the paper. “I—I’d rather you stay here while I read it. So I can accept your apology properly.”
He held his breath, knowing he really didn’t have a choice. If he were to leave then he’d appear cowardly, like he couldn’t own up to the written words. So there was really nothing he could do but stay and watch her eyes dart over his handwriting. Draco tried not to watch her face as she read, he knew he appeared creepy, but he found it nearly impossible to look away from the freckles on her cheeks and the way her lips moved to silently read the words.
She made noises too, which made him uncomfortable. He’d bend his neck to the ground, crack his knuckles, lean his weight on his feet and hold his breath. Just waiting for her to finish. When her eyes appeared to be watering, he panicked. An award cough left his mouth and he painfully tried to speak.
“Granger, really this is sort of private—“
“I’m almost done.” She snapped at him. Oh great, he thought, she probably was crying because he mentioned, very directly, his wrong doings and shortcomings. Gods he was such an idiot. He should have handed her the letter and walked off. He couldn’t believe he allowed her to pressure him into staying, now it looked like he made her cry yet again to the average onlooker.
With a sniffle, Draco watched her fold the paper and press on the broken seal to try and keep it in place. She looked down at the parchment for a while, still quietly sniffling and he waited in a purgatory of anticipation.
“That was…very well written and thought out.” She said, then finally looked up. Her eyes appeared brighter when there were tears glossing over them. He couldn’t breathe, there was a hanging pause at the end of her sentence that made him think she was about to say ‘but’ and it would essentially be the omen for his final year at Hogwarts.
“I—Thank you Malfoy. I can feel the emotion behind every line and I know you mean every word. I accept your apology.” She said, a small half-arsed smile pulling at her lips. Draco nodded, her shoulders finally slinking once he released air.
“You’re welcome.” He said, voice cracking.
For a second, their eyes locked and all the noise around them filtered into a quiet lull. Something strange tucked itself deep underneath his chest when her eyelashes fluttered a few times and she bravely stuck out her hand to his.
He raised his arm forward automatically and looked at her with no expression. His hand engulfed hers, swallowed it whole as they shook up and down twice.
She smiled again, one corner of her mouth then her eyes moved down his body like she was appraising a piece of furniture and it’s worth. It made him uncomfortable and slightly irritated. She removed her hand, the warmth slipping away then turned on her heel and left him standing outside the Great Hall.
In hindsight, that was probably an omen after all. Granger from that day on decided to slowly, but consistently, distract Draco from his goals for the year.
He was walking to the library on a Saturday morning just after breakfast when he heard an odd and chipper greeting.
“Good morning, Malfoy.” The light and pleasant voice called. His head whipped up so fast it nearly detached and rolled off his shoulders. He just caught Granger passing him, offering a wave and smile as she headed in the opposite direction. She was dressed in Gryffindor garb, obviously attending today’s Quidditch match.
“Morning.” He drawled, brows almost touching as she tried to figure out why she said hello. The frightening part of it was that she actually struck up a conversation with him, purposely going out of her way to engage him.
“You’re not going to the game? It’s a nice day for Quidditch.” She said, looking at the books in his hand and the satchel around his shoulders.
“Uh, no. Have some assignments to do.” He made sure to keep his appearance calm.
“Shame. It's the Gryffindor and Slytherin match today. Ginny’s confident we’ll win.” She said, all information he knew, except about the winning part. He was very confident Slytherin would win.
“Mm. Well…good luck.” He then turned around, kept his head down and walked two steps before she called again.
“If you get done early you should join. Slytherin will need all the support they can get today.” She replied cheekily, accompanied by a…a smirk?
She left before he could reply, he was thankful too because he was surely giving her one of the most bizarre looks she would have ever received.
She continued like that. Greeting him in the hallways, which caused him to now keep his head up so he wouldn’t miss her smiles and polite welcoming. It also meant that he could now see the glares and sneers sent at him. He didn’t mind it, but it did make him want to roll his eyes whenever he would receive them from people who witnessed Granger being nice to him.
Like he didn’t deserve her kindness. He already knew he didn’t, any extra measures to reinforce the idea was a waste of breath and head space. Draco was very aware how much he did not deserve the smiles and warmness Hermione Granger was offering. There was no lie he could tell himself though, that he actually very much appreciated her friendliness.
“Morning.” He heard her voice and lifted his head to see Granger standing above his desk. He frowned at first, wondering if the notice-me-not charm he put on himself and his area had lost its strength. Or maybe he forgot to cast one. Idiot, now he was found, by none other than Granger and she looked eager to disturb all three parts of his mantra.
“Morning.” He said, leaning back straight, giving her attention despite his body going still. Before he could ask her any questions, the witch grabbed the chair that was across from him and brought it over to the side he was on. Draco, shocked to silence, watched as she plopped herself directly beside him and pulled out a potions quiz he had graded.
He only blinked, thinking he was suddenly hit over the head and missed the part where he and Granger were comfortable enough with each other to interact casually in public. It had only been greetings, now they were okay with working together? .
“I was wondering if you had a minute to go over my quiz? I know you helped Slughorn grade these and by the looks of it, graded mine.” She said, being impossibly close to him as she flipped her sheet to the part where he knew what answers she got wrong.
His nostrils were assaulted by the scent of her hair and perfume. The floral sweetness from her hair products blended with the sandalwood on her skin was a surprising mix but it was pleasant to inhale. Despite him stiffening at her proximity, his body was very relaxed.
“Um, sure.” He said, voice quiet.
“This one. I’ve talked to everyone in class and they all put down the same thing but got it wrong. Lotus root properties were first used in the region known as Vietnam by Potioneer Polonius Prixen, as a sedative. The textbook says that nearly word for word. Why is it marked wrong?”
Draco winced, knowing she wouldn’t like the explanation.
“Because it was actually used by the Potioneer Platius Prixen, his twin brother.” He said and watched as her light pink lips opened in disbelief. She quickly turned to the page in their textbook where the sentence was written.
“Right here. Polonius Prixen, no mention of a ‘Platius.’” She crossed her arms like a child happy to prove her point.
Draco couldn’t help but half grin at her annoyed look.
“That’s because the book is a misprint and Slughorn was supposed to tell the class.” He explained and her lip twitched.
“Well why didn’t he?” She questioned, she huffed.
“I think Slughorn mentioned it to me one night while we were brewing and thought he said it to the whole class. That’s probably why he added it to the quiz, just got confused.” He shrugged, wanting to explain the old bat of a Professor, genuinely feeling bad that it was put on the quiz and he had the unfair advantage. “It was a trick question. No one got it right.”
“Except you.”
“Right.” He said, feeling like he cheated under the weight of her gaze .
“So, why didn’t you bring it up to the rest of the class?” She asked him, and it was clear it was a test of his goodwill intentions.
“He only mentioned it to me the night before the quiz. I thought it was potions trivia, not a question for a grade.”
Hermione looked down at the quiz, clearly annoyed with the circumstances. Had she answered the question correctly, she would’ve received a perfect score.
“Well that’s….stupid.”
To their surprise, he chuckled. Almost embarrassed by himself and worried she’d take it the wrong way, he straightened himself out and turned serious once more.
“Sorry erm…” He said, watching as she sadly turned her paper back into her book bag. “I’ll uh—talk to Slughorn. Let him know what happened. I’m sure he’ll remove the question and give everyone updated scores.”
As soon as he threw out the suggestion, her head whipped up. A wide smile spread over her lips and those dark brown eyes shimmered with admiration. Draco’s throat tightened at the sight.
“You would do that?” She asked for confirmation. He cleared his throat and looked at
“Yeah I mean…there was a learning disadvantage that affected everyone and Slughorn would understand.” The nonchalance of his attitude did not match how weird it felt to be on the receiving end of one of her smiles. He’d seen her smile with her friends, laughing with Weasel and cheering Potter on with those wide grins and now perfectly straight teeth. But he had never been the cause for one of those blinding smiles. His shoulders felt lighter seeing it.
“Thanks Malfoy!” She said excitedly and placed her hand on his upper arm, right below his shoulder. Though the touch lasted less than a full second, Malfoy still twitched away, caught off guard by the action of gratitude. Granger didn’t see, luckily, or maybe she just didn’t care. She picked up her bag and stood from the desk, the trailing scents of wood and flowers remaining in his space.
Draco watched her curls sway and bounce as she walked away from him and there was a seeping heat covering his arm where her hand had been. He couldn’t focus for the rest of the night.
After almost three months into the school year, Draco concluded that Granger not only knew his mantra, but was determined to disrupt all aspects of it.
He could no longer keep his head down when he walked. There was a selfishly pleasing feeling of Hermione Granger finding you worthy enough to say hello to. That feeling, he realized, was causing him to search for her.
He’d stretch his neck during meals to catch her eye, which he always did, then awkwardly grin and nod up at her in greeting. Or he’d seek out her head of curls in between classes, walking at a pace he knew that would surely interfere with hers. And then when they’d find each other, she’d smile at him and wave. Not just a normal wave, it was a girly wave. The type of wave you would send to a crush in a flirty way. Her slender fingers would take turns dancing back and forth at him. The feminine wave had clutched at his core, so now, his head was always lifted as he walked, searching for her and her wave.
There was also a domino effect of Granger openly talking to you. Her questions in potions and her willingness to sit by him in the library made others assume he was different. He wasn’t a death eater anymore. He was Hermione Granger’s friend. Which meant people asked him for help regarding potions, mainly younger students that he suspected Granger sent over to him, but regardless, people began looking at him like a classmate and not like the man who almost killed their beloved Headmaster.
It made school easier and harder at the same time.
While he could deal with her interrupting the other two parts of his mantra, he really needed good marks. Draco was finding it harder to get his work down as quickly as he previously would when he’d work alone. But for whatever reason, Granger would also seek him out in his tucked away spot and work on assignments with him.
It was mainly silent as they studied, but Granger sat too close to him, so their elbows would almost always touch and he could smell her intoxicating perfume.
“Sorry, does that bother you?” She would say, looking at their limbs touching. Lucky for them he was left handed and she was right. He wouldn’t even glance at where they connected, trying to appear unaffected.
“Not at all.” He would reply aloofly.
Both diligent students liked the silence, but she slowly began to engage him in casual conversation and he latched onto it like a greedy leech, but the way she casually touched him was more addicting. If he said something funny, she had a habit of grabbing his arm and throwing her head back to laugh. It almost made the air leave his lungs and his body heat.
She would sometimes nudge his free hand with hers when she wanted his attention, or she would run her feather on the back of his knuckles and coyly smile when he’d meet her stare.
“I just wanted to know if this answer was right.” She would say, pushing her work over to him so he could check.
Draco would slightly lean towards her, wood and flowers surrounding his nose.
“That’s right.” He would say and always choose not to comment on why she was asking. Hermione Granger knew the answers were right, there was no need to double check, especially from the person second in their overall class standings.
But the delicate taps from her fingertips or the leisurely way she ran the feather up his skin made his body feel like he was thrown into a bath of sunlight and he had suffered the longest winter.
Her angle was always unclear to him. Questions burned his brain of what she was doing or plotting, but then they melted under the warmth of her simple touches. He valued it far more than considered normal and he even began to feel the twistings in his stomach allude that maybe the touches and looks meant something more.
Was he so starved for affection and attention that the friendly company and touches of Granger had him thinking she was flirting with him?
He really couldn’t be sure. And Draco, not willing to give up any of those things, brushed it off and basked in her warm smiles, friendly touches and pleasant conversation.
But then she began pushing it. He was positive she stepped over their boundaries purposely. She seemed delighted to make him as uncomfortable as possible. Making it her life’s mission to get him to blush and blunder like a bloody buffoon.
“I never asked but what’s that ring you always wear.” She asked, turning her quill and running the feather up his ring finger on his right hand. He jerked at the sensation, his skin pricked up his spine. Calmly flexing his hand to take attention away from his twitchy response, he looked at the ring while he spoke.
“It’s an heirloom. Passed down to sons in the Malfoy family once they get placed into Slytherin.” He mumbled, slightly cringing at himself for still wearing the ring his father had presented to him when he was a first year. He was finally able to wear it in fourth year once his fingers grew.
He looked up to find Granger looking at it, inspecting it really like she was trying to make a sound opinion on the thing.
“I like it.” She said surprisingly. He almost gaped at her. Brown eyes flickered up to his, an approving smile on her face. “It’s quite pretty.”
Draco made a face then looked at his ring.
“It’s not supposed to be pretty, it's supposed to symbolize…power, ambition and…determination.” He said rather quickly. His ring was a representation of his house, the good aspects of it at least. It’s not some bloody thing only worn for show.
Granger surprisingly chuckled. He turned his head and raised his eyebrows. She gave him one of those looks specific to her face, that told him they were about to debate and she was about to win no matter what he argued.
“Are you saying your ring cannot be pretty and all those things you just mentioned?” She said, a crafty smile on her face. He shifted in his chair and looked down, but she went on. “Something can be both pretty and powerful, you know.”
“I know.” He said quickly and defensively, like a child being scolded.
“Take me for example.” She responded confidently.. Malfoy’s eyes shot up, seeing her smile remain and her attention back on their homework. When he stared for a little too long, she looked back up, feigning ignorance for the sake of her argument.
“What? Would you disagree?” She asked defensively, though it was a rouse, and he began blushing.
“No.” Was all he said, eyebrows furrowing as he realized he was being backed into a wall.
“Do you think I’m not powerful?” She questioned and he almost rolled his eyes as he answered the obvious.
“Clearly you are—“ He tried but she cut him off.
“So you think I’m not pretty then?” The question was so blunt he almost choked on air.
“I didn’t say—“
“But you’re looking at me as if my assessment is incorrect. And if I’m powerful then I must not be pretty.” She deducted, and Draco, even though he knew she was bating him, couldn’t help but defend himself in a pathetic stuttering of excuses.
“No-I never said you were wrong. I only meant my ring—“
“Is pretty and powerful. Like me. But you think differently so you must not find me pretty or pretty by your standards.” She smiled at him, getting enjoyment out of his flustered face. He huffed and shook his head.
“Granger, I never said that. You—you are.”
Her head turned slowly to him, she wore a smug expression.
“Are what?” She challenged, her head lowering as she stared him down. Merlin this witch was unbelievable.
“Pretty.” He admitted with a gulp. Nervously he looked down at the drips of ink that fell onto his parchment, but he continued. “I think you’re pretty. Y–you have very nice…features.”
She went silent and he clenched his jaw tight to avoid saying anything more thoughtless that she could use against him to make him admit anything about her. His ears were hot and his fingers were clammy.
After a moment of trying to pretend the last two minutes didn’t occur, Malfoy heard her hum thoughtfully.
“Thanks Malfoy.” She then said and he just nodded without looking at her. “I should head back, my rounds begin soon.”
She began packing her things away and Draco did not offer any parting words. He was still too mortified to look her in the eye, knowing she was wearing one of those know it all smirks that drove him mad. But she spoke of course, and he just had to catch another glimpse of her.
“See you later —oh, and by the way.” Her pause made him finally look up. The smirk was there, he felt his face heating up already. “I also think you’re pretty.”
As soon as she was out of sight, Draco threw his quill down and ran his hands over his face, making some noises of frustration when his stomach twisted pleasurably at her simple sentence. Jousting with her, however embarrassing, sent his pulse ablaze and heart thundering inside his chest.
It was a living nightmare the day she asked him if they could study someplace other than the library. The library was public, open for other’s eyes where anyone could see them interact harmlessly. If they studied in private, Draco was afraid she’d somehow coerce other confessions out of him. Things he only thought of at night that were meant for his mind only. He didn’t trust Granger, she seemed to always…tease him now, and it made him unsure and nervous.
Draco was on his way to his dorms, ready to change out of uniform when he heard her voice.
“Malfoy, wait up!” She called.
He turned to see her jogging up to him, her skirt still on, cardigan and blouse on as well. Her curls were tied up into a high but loose pony, some curls crowning her face. He very much liked when her hair was pulled away from her face, it gave him a chance to better see those freckles and try and count all the different shades of brown in her eyes.
“Hi.” He said once she finally got to him.
“Hey, I know we have a midterm potions assessment two weeks from now, but I was really hoping you could help me study. I have flashcards.” She explained, pulling out her little square pieces of thick parchment.
“Sure that’s fine. I just want to change then we can head to the library—“
“Actually can we do it in my dorm? Or yours, I don’t really care. My back needs a break from those rickety old chairs. Cushioning charms don’t help anymore.”
Bloody witch backed him into a corner again. There was no way he could say no, especially when she mentioned being in pain from spending time with him in the library.
“Uh, okay. I’ll—um, just swing by yours then.” He agreed, and his hands began sweating when she beamed up at him.
“Perfect.” She stated, then began walking away from him.
It seemed Granger also enjoyed being comfortable outside of her uniform. While Draco opted for sweatpants and a quidditch jersey, Granger wore something far more revealing.
With her hair piled messily on top of her head, she wore a baby pink tank top, an oversized cream cardigan that was falling off her shoulders, fluffy wool socks that scrunched above her ankle and—here comes the worst part—these cotton shorts that fell remarkably high on her thighs.
He saw a lot of skin, and a lot more freckles.
Both were happy and terrifying surprises. When Granger opened the door with a smile and welcomed him inside, he spent two full seconds gawking at her smooth looking thighs then wandered past her and into her dorm with tight lips and a thick tongue.
“I like that jersey. Blue’s a nice color on you.” She commented like she would the weather for the day, but Draco fumbled over his words regardless.
“Uh—thanks. Blaise’s mother got it for him, but he hates the team so he gave it to me.” He said, frowning at the jersey and wondering why that information was necessary. He glanced back up, seeing her raise her eyebrows amusedly at him then wandered into the small kitchen.
“Cuppa?” She asked. When he shut the door, his reality set in.
Alone, in Hermione Granger’s dorm, she’s half dressed, she had freckles on her shoulders like her skin’s used to the sun, she’s wearing shorts that would surely reveal her arse cheeks should she bend over and she’s grinning at him like she gets off on his nervousness.
Fuck she was so— fuck.
“Yeah, thanks.” He replied, standing still at the door.
“You can sit down. Sofa is more comfier than it looks, promise.” She nodded over her shoulder, where more of her cardigan was slipping off, and gestured to the mangy looking couch.
Draco swallowed and carefully set his book bag on the table then sat. He began pulling out work they both were assigned to do, body tense as he felt her sit beside him, half a body away. She set their mugs down as well as a small bowl of sugar. He quietly thanked her.
Granger replied kindly then lifted a foot under her bum and placed her parchment and notebooks in her lap. But just as soon as she did, she grumbled and lifted up again, pulling something from under her.
“Oh, there you are.” She happily said and placed the object on the table in front of them. Draco looked up from his work, making a face.
“What is that awful looking thing?” He asked with a weird look but couldn’t help and smile at it. She reached out, grabbing the raggedy animal.
“What? My stuffie?” She nuzzled the fluffy creature that looked used and abused, then smiled fondly at it. “This was my first stuffed animal I received as a baby, from my godparents. I named her Bonnie.”
“Bonnie the bunny? How clever.” He said but his voice was light and the smile didn’t leave his face.
“I was a child. But I’m lucky she’s still around. I’ve had to do some serious sewing on her ears over the years. See?” She said, then held the gray tattered thing out to him, showing her stitch work.
“Mm.” He observed. “Aren’t you too mature to still be carrying around a stuffed bunny?”
Hermione gave him a confused look then chuckled.
“What? You don’t have an old stuffie, or a blanket, or—I don’t know, anything from your childhood that you still hold on to?” Her tone was accusing.
He parted his mouth to respond then quickly stopped. Turning his head back to his assignment to avoid her eye contact, he quietly muttered his response.
“I have a blanket. It’s blue and has my name sewn into it. My baby blanket. I stash it away in my pillowcase so no one finds it.” The urge to bond with her over something similar pulled his confession through, even if his cheeks were burning.
“Awww! That’s so cute.”
She patted his leg, then rubbed feverishly up and down. It was condescending in a way, clearly meaning it as a joke. But he stiffened under the feeling and his eyes darted down to the movement. If he looked worried or shocked, she didn’t care, because she continued on with her teases and looked at him with a confident expression and a quirked brow.
His cheeks were painfully hot.
“I’m just sentimental about the thing, is all.”
Hermione then smiled, keeping her eye contact that made his chest feel like there was a weight on it.
“Same here with Bonnie. See, you do understand.” She said quietly, turning to him closer on the sofa, bumping knees with him. “I think it’s adorable anyways.”
He bloody knew if he kept ‘studying’ with Granger in her dorm room that his grades would surely slip. He wasn't getting any real work done, not when she wore those cotton shorts showing a majority of her thighs, or wearing those shirts where he could see all her freckles on her chest. Especially now since she was going bloody braless. Braless. The round and perky shape of her tits constantly called for his attention. He was raised a gentleman but he was still a lad. He inconspicuously looked as often as he could, which was plenty often considering her attention was on her work, where his should have been.
He would stare at his parchment for the two hours he was there, not making any real progress on homework and instead forcing himself to stay up late and finish it quickly so he could wank to the image of her smirking at him when she said goodnight and the way her nipples barely peaked through her shirt.
Frustrated that he allowed her to ruin his solid mantra and plan for eighth year, he vowed to ignore her all night while they sat in her dorm and after tonight, he’d avoid her all together. She was taking up too much space in his head, filling his brain with images of her wild curly hair and a carefree smile to match. He thought too often of her uninhibited laugh and the way she’d grab his arm as if holding on for dear life because he was just that funny.. And, gods, her lips. The bright pink that was a shade he’d never seen before. They were always on his mind.
Yes, he needed to be done.
It was going fine until she tapped his knee with her fingers and he jumped. They had been sitting in silence for almost an hour.
He looked up, seeing her concerned face.
“Are you okay?” She asked, bringing her cardigan sleeve up to cover her shoulder. Tonight she was in a white tank top, light gray cardigan, black shorts and pink socks.
She looked bloody cute, and he didn’t know how to handle it.
“Fine. Why?” He said turning back to his roll of parchment that had one paragraph written compared to her two and a half.
“You’re just abnormally quiet tonight and tense.” She replied, looking up and down his body, deciding to squeeze his kneecap like it would prove her point. He only slightly flinched this time.
He shrugged then pushed his lips out like he had no idea what she was talking about.
“No, I’m all good.”
After a few beats of her silence, he looked over at her and saw her eyebrows lifting, an idea growing across her face. He felt troubled by it. Anytime she looked at him like that, she did something or said something that made him trip over his words.
“You always get jumpy when I touch you.” She observed and his eyes went a bit wide at her blunt way of her telling him she noticed. “Do you not like to be touched?”
“No it’s not that—“ He said, scratching his neck quickly. “I just don’t expect it. You—you catch me off guard a lot.”
She placed a testing hand just above his knee. It was innocent enough and properly placed that it shouldn’t have made him nervous, but he flinched before relaxing into her hold. When he sheepishly lifted his head, she had that smug look on her face again.
“Or maybe you just don’t like being touched by me?” Granger did a thing where she always asked questions she knew the answers too, but asked them innocently enough it felt like you had to answer. It was annoying how easily she could manipulate him to reply truthfully. All because he didn’t want to disappoint her.
“N-no. That’s not it, I—“ A laugh fell from his lips that he hoped would come out smoother, but it sounded wimpy and inexperienced to him. He mentally rolled his eyes at himself.
“So you don’t mind when I touch you?” Her head tilted to the side, curls moving to once part of her shoulder, leaving the other totally exposed. He glanced at the skin there, seeing the light brown speckles of her birthmarks all over. His mouth went dry.
“No, not at all.” He said breathlessly when her thumb began running up and down. Hermione then inhaled slowly, looked at her hand on his thigh then brought her gaze back up to his.
“Would you mind if I touched you more?”
Blood pooled south. Draco was sure if he looked in the mirror, he’d be redder than a tomato.
“Wh-what? In what way?” His heart was beating fast, he was sure he was going to collapse from some heart failure.
Granger looked up at him from under her lashes, all traces of fun and flirty gone. Present was a confident gaze. One that told him she was well aware of the effect she had on him, she knew every smile and every touch sent him into a tailspin. Draco wanted to run and hide, but he was locked in place, and her hand was moving up higher on his thigh.
“Like this?” She quietly asked. His body temperature increased and the back of his neck was sweating. He knew if he looked down at her tiny hand sliding up his thigh, he would get harder than a rock. But the only other option was to stare in her endless eyes, the dark coffee colors filled him with warmth and comfort. He was fucked no matter where he looked.
“Um…” He said but then she pushed her book and notepad off her lap and slowly turned from her cross legged position and sat on her knees. Draco swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched her crawl to him, all while keeping her warm hand on the middle of his thigh.
Sitting high on her knees, Granger looked down at him then lowered her face. He saw the telltale sign of her smirk then she broke eye contact and glanced at his lips. He couldn’t look away from her face, his eyes were wide open and scared for what was about to happen.
“Or if I touched you…like this?” Her breath fell over his face. Her air escaped into his mouth and he let out a very breathy pant when her lips finally brushed over his.
He stupidly kept his eyes open, watching the way hers softly fluttered closed and her jaw slightly moved when she slotted her lips between his. The plump skin was tender and damp, it slid perfectly along his mouth.
“Is that okay?” She asked him, her voice barely a whisper against his lips.
Draco, unsure if this was truly a reality, did nothing but nod a few times. She pulled back, looking over his face for a moment before that smirk returned and she sat back down. Her legs crossed and she pulled her homework back on her lap, going about like nothing happened. She sat much closer to him now, their thighs and arms touching, backs against the sofa.
They didn’t say anything for the next thirty minutes. Draco heard his heartbeat in his ears and tried to think of anything to get his erection to go down.
“I, uh, think I should head out. It’s getting late.” He announced, packing up his things but refusing to meet her eye.
“Okay.” She said softly and stood with him, watching him hurriedly put his things into his rucksack. When he was finished, his eyes shifted around the room, clearly avoiding her. He cleared his throat.
“I’ll…see you tomorrow.”
When he did finally have the courage to look up, he knew it was a wrong choice.
Granger had her brow raised and arms crossed just under her breasts, so they were straining against her top. She then padded over to him slowly, a saunter really. Draco watched frozen to his spot. She stopped just before their feet touched and looked up at him like she was ready laughing at a private joke.
Quicker than before, she raised up on her toes and kissed him again. A delicate peck but he puckered his lips and tried to make it last.
When she pulled away, Draco licked his lips to savor her taste. His eyes focused and he saw her grinning sheepishly at him.
“Have a good night. See you.” She said, stepping back. He nodded then turned away and left. His cheeks were red, his neck was sweaty and there was tightness pulling at his chest that made him feel just like he did when he let the death eaters into the castle.