Disclaimer: Does a duck's quack echo?
A/N: For Katiee, glad to have you back, hun, and I hope you enjoy your present. This is the second story I've tried for this, so I hope you loff it. KEEP IN MIND: One shot, so no asking for more, please and thankyou!
Please be warned: Mention of sexual realtions.
It hadn't started as this obsession, this mindless passion. And as her kisses sear across his pale neck, he wonders how it had started at all.
There were thousands of possibilities, really. It could have been within a single moment, a shared look, a class period, an insult, a year. Or maybe it had been a continual build up of both their feelings, their exhausted minds.
Yes, that was it.
Lust, love, hate, passion, frustration, fury; all exploding with a beautiful and frightening vengeance between the most unlikely, the two most polar opposites dwelling inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Here, together, for a few brief moments, they don't have to think. They act on instinct and instinct alone. Here their trivial prejudices melt away like rainwater.
Whatever had caused this, whatever had opened an unnervingly new part of him to her, frightens and amazes him. She is something completely new to his system. A strange, exotic new drug: intoxicating, addicting, dangerous.
He thinks he loves her a bit more for it.
His silver and emerald tie already discarded ,she glides her hands down his chest, grasping the thin material of his uniform shirt and tugs at it with a spine-tingling whimper. As he fists his long, almost elegant hands in her thick, frizzy hair, he can feel the trembling need in her gaze.
Those chocolate brown eyes that haunt his dreams, the slightly freckled cheeks that rub against his wrists as they shift on the stone wall, the scent of her hours spent in the library, surround and drown his senses.
Madness, passion, heat.
Hushed whispers, moans, and nails scraping flesh.
And suddenly…it's over. They part, and s he's fixing her scarlet and gold tie, shuffling her spilled papers back into her tidily labeled folders; lips swollen and hair still ruffled. In these few moments, he can almost believe she really does see this as just a side dalliance, a casual, undemanding fling they can stop at the drop of a hat.
But deep in their minds they both know that isn't true. They realize this is something more, something that will consume their thoughts until their next meeting and the one after that. They both dream about revealing this…this relationship, however twisted, to the unassuming world outside of this lonely dungeon corridor.
And they both know that can't, and won't ever, be.
Slytherin and Gryffindor, Pureblood and Mudblood part, masks already back in place and appearances returned to the norm with a swift flick of her wand and a muttered word. He glares at her quickly retreating back with his cool grey eyes, her black Mary Janes slapping the damp stones as she rushes up the stairs to the bright world above.
But in Draco Malfoy's hand is clutched a note she has slipped him. He won't dare to read it until he is safely locked in the Slytherin dorms, where he will then burn it, as always necessary in their secrecy.
It reads, in Hermione Granger's neat flourish, 'Tomorrow, 10 o'clock, broom closet on second floor corridor. Love, Granger'. She has slipped the 'L' word in again, and it will make him smile in the cold recesses of his bed chamber. She knows how it torments him.
Maybe he will love her a bit more for it.
It hadn't started as this obsession, this mindless passion.
A/N: nervous Do you like/hate? Please drop a review in the box, they help feed me!