Forbidden
Fruit
Libbeh, a self-proclaimed D/H shipper specialist
Plot:
Lust. Lies. Sex. Hate. Anger. Oh the joys of being a horny
teenager.
Chapter Two: Dire Sexual Tensions
Disclaimer:
I claim no rights to Harry Potter & company. J. K. Rowling &
etc. own the rights to Harry Potter & company.
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Hermione lay in her bed later that night, twisting and turning, still furious that had careless left her journal behind in class for Draco to find. All her thoughts, emotions, and dark secrets were written in that notebook and now it lay in the hands of her mortal enemy, Draco Malfoy. She began pacing around her room, thinking fast on how to get back her journal before Draco read it… that was, if he hadn't read it yet. If he had, he would blackmail her. She couldn't jeopardize her last year at Hogwarts, seeing how this is the last time she will see Harry, Ron, Hagrid, and even dreadful Professor Snape.
She contemplated of ways to retrieve her journal from Draco but was disappointed with her lack of ideas. Sneaking into Draco's room to steal back her journal would prove to be disastrous since he hexed it every night with an intruder alert spell after Pansy Parkinson had made one too many attempts to sneak into Draco's room late at night for whatever reasons Hermione shuddered to think of. "Horny slut got what she deserved," she muttered as she pondered on her bed.
After debating for quite some time, she realized that she had only one choice. She glanced down and surveyed what she was wearing. A thin white wife-beater tank top and skimpy pink polka dot boxers that hugged her luscious curves. She immediately felt ashamed she was about to do, but she knew she had to get her journal back. She let out loud sigh and walked towards Draco.
"What do you want, Granger," the cold face sneered.
"I want my journal back, Malfoy."
Draco leered at her, savoring in the sight of a skimpy clad Hermione. 'Damn bitch. I can't stop thinking at how firm and perky her tits are. Those coarse and heavy robes do nothing for her buxom figure.'
He shook the thought away and replied, "You expect me to carry out your request without any incentives to offer? By the way, nice outfit you have on, Granger. "
He slowly eyed her up and down. Hermione felt herself blushing, much to her annoyance. Draco must have sensed something in Hermione's silence because he got up from the chair and stepped closer to her.
"My, my. are we blushing?"
Hermione snorted. "In your dreams, Malfoy. I'm not some whore like Pansy that you can seduce. Now, I demand that you return my journal at once."
Draco slowly stepped forward, his eyes on her the whole time. She stepped back. He enjoyed seeing this newfound vulnerability.
"What are you doing, Malfoy? Thinking of more childish insults to taunt me with?"
"No," he replied, "I'm just merely taking in your beauty. I never knew that a lowly mudblood such as you can be beautiful.. yes, dirty pretty thing aren't you?"
WACK!
"What the bloody fuck did you do that for!" He gingerly rubbed his right cheek, where a deep red mark began forming.
"You insulted me and mind your language while you're at it. I guess Mummy dearest didn't teach you mannerism after all."
Draco raised his hand to smack her, but stopped mid-air. Hermione had tilted up her face, as if she dared him to strike her. He felt himself growing with anger and frustration as he realized how beautiful she looked, even when in anger. 'What the hell is wrong with you Malfoy? She's a MUDBLOOD for Christ's sake! Stop fawning over her retched beauty,' he thought.
He lowered his hand and smiled.
'Did he just smile at me? No, it's not possible. He's smirking at me. That rat bastard,' thought Hermione.
"As a matter of fact, I was taught excellent manners by my mother. I'm very well mannered once you get to know me Granger. Now if you will excuse me, I would like to get some rest after this little charade. Good night."
Draco walked back into his room and closed the door, leaving a stunned Hermione.