A/N: I thought this fanfiction up one night and blame it on reading too many romance novels. It is fairly tame right now, but it may get a little "smuttier" as the chapters go on. I'm not quite sure yet. But, you can certainly review and let me know if it needs a little more spice, or if it's seasoned just right :). As for ownership . . . I wish I did, but the characters, places, and names are all owned by the brilliant J.K. Rowling. I could only be so lucky. Once again, this does deal with sexual situations. If that is not something that you feel comfortable with, consider this your warning, and do not read any further. If you are like me, and enjoy the occasional smut, then please—continue reading and enjoy. I look forward to hearing your thoughts :) Onward . . .
My Only Love Sprung from My Only Hate.
It was late and the night was dark at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Thick, dark clouds had rolled in over the docile lake and formed a heavy blanket over the stars. However, deep within the walls of the school—in the library—Hermione Granger had no knowledge of the ominous night.
She was deep in thought; her nose buried in a book on the Vehement War of 1612. It was the longest report assigned all year and was due in merely two weeks, yet the library remained empty—the books on the subject still fully stocked. Hermione could hardly believe her classmates. She had been working diligently for the last few weeks and had barely scratched the surface—which was why her nights were now spent in the deserted library. As she flipped the page, a stray piece of her frazzled hair fell into her face and she pushed it back hastily with her hand in annoyance.
She could tell it was getting late.
Her eyes burned with the hours of reading and her hand ached from the countless pages of notes. Her back was sore, her shoulders tense, and her neck was stiff from hunching deeply over her desk.
Wearily, Hermione looked up. Pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers, she stretched her back lightly. She looked back down at the messy pages of notes and sighed again. She was getting too tired to work anymore.
Rolling her neck on her shoulders, she caught sight of the time.
The library would be closing in 15 minutes.
Every student at Hogwarts was required to be back in his or her House Commons by 12:00, and the library closed every night at 11:45 to ensure that this could happen. Granted,—unless it was close to a deadline—this usually only affected Hermione.
She glanced back down at her notes and then back to the clock, contemplating. She knew that she should stay . . . that 15 more minutes would get her another page read . . . some more notes taken. But, her body was telling her no.
Mentally, she fought for a few more seconds, before she made a brash decision. In one smooth motion, she slid her chair back and began to pile her books. She straightened her notes and piled them on top of the texts. Then, loading her arms full, she staggered slightly under the weight and turned toward the exit.
As she passed the librarian, she wiggled the tips of her fingers in a make-shift wave and smiled. The young witch smiled back from behind her horn-rimmed glasses and waved in response just before Hermione passed through the doors and into the hallway.
The hallway was dark and deserted. Briskly, Hermione walked through the familiar corridor from the library to the stairs that would take her to the Gryffindor common room. The sound of her footsteps echoes lightly off of the walls, only reiterating the fact that the hallway was empty.
She counted her steps, her thoughts lost in the idea of her warm bed and sleep, when a sudden voice cut through the silence and caused a shiver to run down her spine. Without looking up, she recognized the cold drawl.
"Look who's all by her lonesome . . . without the rest of the posse."
Hermione rolled her eyes and turned them heatedly toward Draco Malfoy. He was leaning against the wall, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle sneering from either side. "And I see that you still can't go anywhere without your entourage." Her voice dripped with as much malice as she could muster.
Draco scoffed, his face contorting into a sarcastic smile. "Please . . . ."
Without a word, he waved his hand as if brushing away an invisible fly. Crabbe and Goyle remained in place.
Draco turned his cold stare from Hermione to his associates, his eyebrows knit darkly over his eyes. "Now." It was an order, and one that didn't need repeating. Immediately, Crabbe and Goyle straightened and, without another backward glace, stalked off toward the Slytherin dungeon.
Draco watched them leave and then turned back toward Hermione, his arms outstretched at his sides, his palms up, and a smug look on his face.
"What?" Hermione wasn't impressed. "That's supposed to prove something?"
"I will never have anything to prove to you." Draco's voice was hard as he crossed the hallway in two short steps.
Hermione felt adrenaline flow quickly through her veins as he approached her. She wasn't scared of him . . . but it definitely was a new experience to be completely alone with Malfoy—without any of her friends.
He took another step forward, until he was positioned directly in front of her. She could smell his expensive cologne and she cursed herself, because she enjoyed it. It was musky . . . a scent that she had never experienced before.
Mentally, she shook herself from her weakness, and placed herself back into the real-life situation. Draco Malfoy, her nemesis, was standing mere inches from her. Reflexively, she narrowed her eyes up at him.
"Well, maybe you can not prove to me that you can get lost, Malfoy." Her words had a bite to them, a bite that even slightly surprised Hermione.
A fire erupted behind Draco's eyes, his jaw clenching. "What right do you have to talk to me like that?"
Hermione remained silent, but allowed a spiteful smile to cross her face.
In an instant, Draco's hand came crashing down on the pile of books that she held in her arms. They clattered noisily to the ground, spreading across the floor in disorder. Hermione watched them fall from her hands, her mouth open in a silent "o."
"Oops." Draco shrugged nonchalantly.
Hermione looked up at him, fire burning through her veins—heating her face until it shone a brilliant red. "How dare you!" She shrieked shrilly.
"How dare I what?" Draco drawled, narrowing his eyes as he leaned over her. Hermione held her ground, her eyes shooting a fiery glare into Draco's silvery orbs.
"How dare you come over here and—" Her words were choked off as strong hands roughly grabbed her arms. Losing her poise, Hermione's eyes widened. A slow, deliberate smile spread across Draco's cold features, and as she stared into his face, panic began to spread through her like wildfire.
Mustering all of her strength, Hermione composed herself, narrowed here eyes one more, and prayed hat her voice wouldn't betray her.
"Let go of me, Malfoy." Her voice was soft, but she was relieved to hear that it was also forceful.
"What did you say?' Malfoy's voice dripped with malice as he dug his fingers deeper into her biceps.
Hermione flinched at the sudden force on her arms, but continued. Her voice was low and controlled as she put space between each of her words, her eyes fiery once more. "I told you to let go of m—"
She was cut off brutally by cold lips pressing hard against hers. Her eyes widened in realization and Hermione began to struggle as she attempted to pull away, but Draco firmly held her arms.
Finally, she was able to rip herself from Draco's grip. In one fluid motion, she pulled from his reach, brought her hand up, and slapped him, hard, across the face. Th sound sounded like a gun shot as it echoed around the empty corridor. Draco's head snapped to the right from the impact as Hermione started at him in hate, a loss for words. Her breathing was ragged and heavy, a mixture of her anger and their long kiss.
Slowly, Draco turned his face back toward her. An angry red welt was already beginning to form on his cheek—a drastic contrast to his pale skin—but he was too proud to cover it with his hand.
Silently, they stared at each other. Moments passed, yet as he stood before her, Hermione slowly came to realize that something was different about him.
They didn't hold the same malice and scorn that they normally did. Instead, they seemed dull . . . sad. Not the same eyes of a boy who had hurt her and her friends over all of these years. No—instead they were the eyes of a boy who had been hurt himself. Not only by her, but by others.
As Draco stared at her dully, Hermione couldn't help buy stay. The anger that was just coursing through her veins was slowly subsiding and at the very moment, she realized something: Malfoy wasn't as bad as he portrayed himself to be. He was a child, just like her, who had been hurt.
She didn't know why she didn't leave. Draco Malfoy was her loathed enemy. But, now as he stood before her, silently looking back, she felt the persuasion to stay.
Hermione tipped her head at a slight angle and, narrowing her eyes, searched Draco's face. It was so different from what she was used to seeing. The mask was breaking down. And through the dullness, his emotions were beginning to show.
She didn't know how long they had been standing there . . . it felt like hours, yet it was more than likely only a few moments. However long, Hermione finally came to a decision—even though it surprised both her and Draco.
Without thinking, she took a quick step forward. Draco didn't even have tome to react before her small hands were behind his neck, pulling him down to her mouth with strength she didn't know she had.
Draco tensed as he felt her lips crash down onto his in the searing kiss, but as her lips softened, he relaxed into her and allowed himself to kiss her back. As Hermione's arms wrapped tighter around his neck, Draco snaked one arm around her slender waist and the other behind her neck, pulling her closer to his body. She leaned into his pull, her kisses becoming hungrier.
A soft moan escaped Hermione's lips as she felt Draco's tongue gently taste her bottom lip. Snaking her own tongue out, she slowly allowed the tip to touch Draco's. Draco shuddered at the contact and then sighed as their tongues began a soft, urgent tango together.
With a growl, he pushed her backwards into the shadows. Her feet tripped over and kicked the discarded books and notes, shuffling them into more disarray. Hermione gasped as her back hit the cold bricks. Grabbing Draco's robes, she pulled his body tightly against hers. She could feel the coolness of the stones penetrating her robes, but Draco's body burned against the front. Draco could feel her breasts, thick and swelling, against his chest and he couldn't think. Instead, he moaned against her mouth and memorized her taste. He could feel her hands winding in his hair, pulling him deeper, and he twisted his own fingers through her wild mane.
He was in desire for her—that was blatantly clear—as he pressed his body harder against her. Hermione whimpered brokenly and bucked her hips toward him. Lost in sensation, Draco's lips left Hermione's and his head fell back in a groan.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. Panting, Hermione stared back at him, her lips swollen. Her eyes were heavy lidded and dark with lust as her hair fell in messy curls around her face.
Draco gently swept a curl behind her ear before slowly tracing his fingertips from Hermione's shoulders, down her arms, and grasped her wrists that now rest on his shoulders. Then, in one fluid motion, he pinned them against the wall above her head, and brought his lips to her neck.
Hermione's breath caught in her throat as Draco's lips nibbled down her jaw. Her heart raced as his tongue found the hollow at the base of her throat, but he didn't stop. Torturously, he kissed along her collarbone, only stopping as he reached the sensitive juncture where her shoulder met her neck. Lightly, Draco bit down and Hermione cried out.
Instantaneously, Draco's lips covered hers, silencing her outbreak. He broke their kiss to bring his mouth over to her ear.
"Shhh . . . we need to be quiet." His hot breath sent chills down her spine. "We don't want to get caught."
With his last words, his teeth found her earlobe and grazed the sensitive skin.
Hermione bit her lip to suppress her moan. Instead, she rocked her hips up into Draco's . . .
Draco hissed against her ear, and his hot breath caused Hermione to shudder and buck her hips again.
Nibbling lightly on her ear, Draco's hand traveled slowly down her ribcage, following her slender waist, and moved down over the slight curve of her hip. Hermione's mind went blank as Draco's hand found bare skin just below the hem of her skirt. Blood rushed to her face as his fingers tiptoed up her leg, disappearing under her skirt's fabric. Suddenly, his hand grasped her thigh and he hitched her leg up onto his hip.
Hermione gasped as he center was savagely pressed against Draco's evident erection. Moisture pooled between her thighs as she wrapped her leg tighter around Draco's body.
"You are so hot . . . "Draco whispered huskily against Hermione's throat.
In response, Hermione turned her head and bit at Draco's neck. He tasted of a mixture of soap and sweat.
Draco trailed his mouth across her collarbone once more, and, taking his hand from her thigh, began to slowly unbutton her blouse. His lips trailed behind, kissing every inch of flesh that he exposed. Hermione arched her back and pressed herself harder into Draco's lap.
Draco's fingers trembled slightly, and he fumbled with the button that uncovered enough to show the feminine lace of her transparent bra. Her breasts swelled over the see through pink material. Gently, Draco leaned down and kissed the exposed flesh. Mouthing the sheer fabric, he felt his pulse quicken as her nipples hardened under his touch. With a sly smile, he gently squeezed one between his teeth.
In surprise, Hermione's hands twisted roughly into his hair, holding him in place, urging him on.
Skillfully, Draco lavished one breast with his tongue and teeth before paying homage to the other. Hermione writhed beneath him, her leg tightening around his waist.
Suddenly, she froze. Her hands gripped his head with vice-like strength, cementing him in place. He pointed his eyes upward and looked at her, his face nestled against one breast.
"What is it?" Draco whispered against her skin.
"Shhh . . ." Hermione hissed back. Still holding Draco in place, she turned her head, listening carefully. Abruptly, she released him, simultaneously dropping her leg to the ground. "Someone's coming."
Draco straightened and listened. Footsteps were falling loudly down the corridor and they were definitely coming closer.
"We can hide . . . find someplace a little more private." Draco kept his voice down, but there was a pleading tone it.
But Hermione shook her head, her hands already quickly fastening the open buttons of her blouse. Taking a deep breath, she briskly ran her hands over her face, as if to rub the blush from her cheeks, and attempted to smooth her messed up hair.
The footsteps came closer, and Draco watched helplessly as Hermione pulled her skirt straight and composed herself. His heart was still pounding as he attempted to catch his breath, his legs weak. He wasn't ready to stop, but he didn't know what he could do or say.
Unexpectedly, the footsteps turned. They clicked down an adjacent corridor, rapidly disappearing until only the sounds of Hermione's and Draco's slight panting remained.
Draco turned and listened carefully, a smile appearing slowly on his face. His groin stirred again as he turned back to Hermione.
But his smile quickly disappeared.
Hermione looked back at him. His tie was loose, hanging slack around his neck. His shirttail was pulled from his trousers and his normally perfect blonde hair was in disarray. Her head was filled with emotions. She tingled with arousal, her stomach stirring as she remembered his lips on hers . . .
on her neck . . .
on her breasts.
And she was ashamed to realize that she didn't want it to stop either. She wanted more.
But he was Draco.
She couldn't let lust get in the way of that truth.
Taking a deep breath, she looked him directly in the eyes. "I'm sorry . . . we should never have done that."
It surprised her how difficult it was to say that. But as soon as the words left her mouth, she turned. She turned before she could hear his response—see the pain in his eyes . . . she turned and left him standing there, speechless.