Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you originally saw in the books. I came up with this idea by myself—I'm not sure if it's been done before so if it has, sorry!
Summary: DracoHermione Their relationship is purely physical. They make love but never fall in love. However, Hermione doesn't realize her feelings are changing…
Hermione sat in the library with a random book cracked open in front of her as she waited for him to show up. She glanced at the time—11:43 p.m. He would be here soon. Letting out a sigh, Hermione closed the book and put her head down on the desk. She hated herself for doing this—every time she did it, the guilt was unbearable—but she couldn't stop. She just couldn't stop. She smiled wistfully as she remembered how it had all started. How this stupid physical relationship with Draco had started.
It had been in that detention, one of the few detentions that littered Hermione's beautiful record as she grew up through Hogwarts. The only detention of Hermione's seventh year so far. And the cause of it? A stupid fight with Malfoy.
It had started in the usual way, with him flicking something at Ron, who had immediately retaliated. Harry and Hermione had tried to hold him back, but Malfoy chose to insult Hermione at that very moment ( "Mud blood!"). She had warned her best friends that they better not interfere—that she would deal with the ferret all alone, and so she had.
She'd taken her wand and hexed him into remorse, until Professor McGonagall had intervened and two consecutive nights of detention for the both of them had been the result. She could still hear the Professor's screech. "You will clean out my desk and papers, no wands!"
Technically, Hermione thought, it was all Professor McGonagall's fault. If she hadn't issued the detention, then what had happened would never have happened.
In the first detention, Hermione remembered that she had been sorting through the essays when she caught Draco looking at her. To her surprise, it hadn't been a look of hatred—it was more of a quizzical look. His gray eyes had been so intense that Hermione felt herself drawn to him—she looked right back at him, almost quivering under his stony glare, until he had moved closer to her, and the next thing she knew, her mouth was working of its own accord as he probed his tongue deeper inside its crevices…
She had pulled away the minute her mind had stopped exploring newfound pleasures and realized exactly who she was kissing. Words were not needed to make the situation awkward. They had simply returned to their task.
But as the hour progressed, Hermione could not concentrate on anything but the kiss and his intense stare. She had only kissed one person before this—Viktor Krum, and there hadn't been a fiery blaze of passion and lust when that had happened.
She didn't like it much, but she wanted him to kiss her again. Occasionally, she recalled what a bloody bastard he was, but at the moment, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. She looked over to him and found that he was looking at her again. In one swift movement, they were closer to each other and suddenly his hands were exploring regions she had never let anyone touch.
They did not go any further that night. But Hermione could still feel his touch even after she was alone in her bed. She had closed her eyes, hoping that it would go away--this lust for Malfoy. But it never did. She wanted him. Oh, she craved him.
The next night of detention had been much the same. It was in almost complete silence, but the tension was heavy and thick. Her head felt heavy and she wanted to know if last night's events would be repeated. This time, it happened when she was picking up a paper from the floor. He had reached for the same one, and she saw him looking at her again, the exact way he had the night before. Once more their mouths met hungrily, and this time, the boundaries of house, blood, and friendship did not create the needed barrier…
In just a few minutes, their clothes lay discarded on the floor and their breath was fast and ragged. Her heartbeat intensified; she could not think of anything but the situation. She wanted him, needed him, and here he was…she could not walk away.
As he moved closer, the first words of the night were spoken. "I'm still a virgin," she whispered. Why she did not object to this, she didn't know. Why she had let him of all people take her virginity, she didn't know.
Hermione shuddered as she recalled how painful it had been. But he had been so gentle about it, so kind, that it was as if he wasn't Draco Malfoy after all but someone else altogether.
Hermione was brought out of her reverie when she heard a deep, familiar voice. "Hey," he was saying.
She looked up. "Hey," she whispered.
He leaned in to kiss her, and once again Hermione was lost in oblivion, cursing herself and moaning at the same time.
As his hands worked magic upon her robe, she closed her eyes, knowing that this was why she did it. The feeling was too much. It felt so good, and Hermione was addicted.
A/N: It was very short, I know. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue it or not; I think it could work as a one-shot or as a full-length story. Feedback/ reviews would be much appreciated. This was inspired by one verse of "I hate everything about you" by 3 days grace and a song by Christina Aguilera.