A/U: Fluffy! This idea came to me when I was watching a romance comedy. They always make the first kisses so perfect, so I decided to write something about a bad kiss. Just a new idea. Who could ever imagine Draco Malfoy being a bad kisser? Gasp! Yes, I know it's a bit blasphemous, seeing as everyone's dream man is always a fantastic kisser, but not all of them can be. :) Tell me what you think! Review, please! Draco'll give you a cookie :D
P.S. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, the settings, the characters, and YOU. J.K. :)
It was January. Cold, bitter, and slightly lonesome. Hermione Granger was poking at the fire in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, dressed in a sweater and jeans with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. It was freezing in the drafty headquarters. Her room on the second floor seemed chillier than most, so she'd been downstairs close to the fire along with most everyone else. Someone came up behind her and rubbed her arms, the warmth of their body warming her back. Her heart leapt at the thought of who it could be.
"Warm yet?" Ron asked, and Hermione shook her head.
"I feel like I'm just destined to be cold all my life," she replied. "Cold on the inside and the outside."
"I think you're the warmest person on the inside," he said, and she smiled at the fire.
"Thank you. That was nice."
"Well, that is what I'm known for I guess."
She turned around to face her best friend. "You guess?"
"I wouldn't really know for certain."
Hermione pushed her hair behind her ear. "Well, I think you're nice."
"Thank you." He grinned and Hermione smiled back before pushing past him to get to the couch. It was worn but comfortable. When several people sat on it at once, the old springs would seem to give out and they'd all start falling towards the middle and squishing together. There was a whole group there now with a bit of space between Ginny and Draco Malfoy.
Draco had become a spy for the Order during the war and, in this post-war atmosphere, was invited to stay the winter with them. He didn't have any place to go, really, with his mum out of the country and his father in Azkaban. He seemed to cope and was quiet and respectful enough that no one minded his presence. Hermione had struck up a close friendship with him after he'd apologised for teasing her and her mates back in school. Oh, how long ago that seemed now. Hogwarts was supposed to open up again next fall; that was still such a long time to wait. For now, Hermione and her peers had to survive the cold and take care of themselves. Ron's family, thankfully, was used to large families, and Mrs. Weasley came often from the Burrow, the Weasley home, to feed the lot and to take care of any who were sick. It was lovely most of the time.
But the other times were lonely. Everyone missed their families. Most of the Order and Dumbledore's Army had decided to stick around in Grimmauld Place to avoid the cold winter and to make sure that no lone Death eaters were going to find them and destroy their families. Winter would freeze them out, they hoped.
And so Hermione sighed and snuggled in between Ginny and Draco. It was absolutely dreary, and they couldn't really go anywhere. As if there was anywhere to go. Hermione leant her head on Ginny's shoulder and sighed. "It's really cold," she complained.
"I know," Ginny replied.
"Body heat will warm us right up," Draco added.
"Thank goodness. I love this couch."
"Why?" he asked with a little laugh.
"It's so…comfortable. And it's big enough so everyone can sit on it."
Hermione closed her eyes. "I want to take a nap, but it's too cold to go upstairs."
"Mm, yes, I know," Ginny said sleepily.
"I'll carry you both if you fall asleep."
Hermione didn't know how to respond to that, but blamed her suddenly warm cheeks on the heat from the fire.
It was only a matter of five minutes that, with the body warmth combined with the warmth from the fire, Hermione, sleep-deprived from her insomnia, finally fell asleep. She was woken slightly by jostling hours later and she attempted to figure out where she was without opening her eyes. It was clear in seconds. She was being cradled in someone's arms as they carried her up the stairs.
Her hand slammed against the stair railing and she twitched. Ow!
"Shit!" he muttered, and his arm shifted and his hand went to hers to rub the throbbing hand. Then he moved it to her stomach so it wouldn't be in danger of being hit again. Hermione opened her eyes then, and black robes were the only thing in her vision. She looked up. Draco looked down at her. "Sorry, did I wake you?" he whispered.
"You're bound to wake anyone like that," she groaned, rubbing her hand again. "That hurt."
She just sighed and dropped her head against his chest and closed her eyes again. His robes smelled like they were just washed. Her busy hair was in her face and her ear was pressed against his chest, right above his heart, and she could hear it thumping rapidly. It was a comforting sound. After seeing all that death and destruction during the war, it was nice to know that people were still living and breathing, with feelings and functioning bodies. She took a deep whiff of his robes.
It seemed like only seconds later when she was deposited onto her bed gently. She opened her eyes again. "Goodnight Draco," she murmured. "Thank you."
"I said I would, didn't I?" He brushed a hand through her hair and she flushed. He chuckled. "You're adorable."
"Stop saying that," she replied awkwardly, and slipped under her comforter and pulled it up to her chin. It was still freezing in her room.
He chuckled again. "Goodnight," he whispered, and then he was gone. Hermione only slept for another hour before waking. The cold was keeping her up again. This was going to be a miserable winter.
Hermione got up at six o'clock and dressed quickly in order to conserve her energy. The cold kept her awake and active. That was one good thing about winter. Hermione cast a warming charm on herself and wished that she could cast a warming charm on the whole house. One that lasted. She went downstairs and found Molly trying to get the stove to work.
"This darn thing doesn't light the way it used to," Molly said with a little flustered smile.
"Here, let me help," Hermione said. It took ten minutes and a lot of fiddling with it all, but they finally got the stove to light and Molly began to make breakfast.
"I'll get the fire lit too," Hermione said with a smile, and lit the fire in several of the rooms. Thank goodness for magic. Trying to light fires without it would take forever. In the living room she found Draco there already, wrapped in a blanket. The same blanket she had used yesterday. The fire was already lit and the room warm and stuffy.
"Have you been here all night?" Hermione asked. She guessed from the amount of ashes in the fireplace that he had.
"Yes. Couldn't sleep."
"Neither could I."
"The rooms are bloody cold."
He looked over at her and she stood awkwardly next to the couch. After a moment of looking at the fire and playing with couch arm, Draco smiled and pat the seat next to him. She sat down, trying to act nonchalant. Maybe if she wasn't so attracted to him she'd be more comfortable.
Hermione tried to think of something to talk about. "So how are you?" she asked.
"I don't really know how to answer that question," he said after a long moment. "I'd like to think I'm fine, but I'm not; not really. I think about my parents all the time and this bloody cold doesn't help any."
Hermione put her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry for." He stared into the fire, the light dancing in his gray eyes.
Hermione wanted to kiss him. He looked so attractive in the light, so beautiful. She didn't think, she acted; she leant forward and kissed his cheek quickly and pulled back. It was almost as if she hadn't been there except for the shock blooming onto Draco's face.
Hermione's face turned bright red. "I, uh, sorry. I don't know what I was doing. Well, maybe I was, I just…wanted, er, I…" She trailed off, and there was a long awkward silence. Hermione stood quickly and took a few steps away from him, face red.
"Hey," he said softly. "Don't be embarrassed. I like you."
"Do you want to, er, kiss me?" She blushed like a prude.
"Yes, I do," he said with a little smile. Her awkwardness was endearing. He stood and enveloped her in the blanket, pulling her closer to him. "Feeling warm?" he whispered, nuzzling her nose with his. He was smiling.
"Not yet." Hermione closed her eyes. Draco leant down and kissed her mouth, slowly and gently. He became more passionate as they went on, and then Hermione pulled back and rubbed her mouth.
"Sorry, sorry," Draco said, slightly flustered.
"It's okay. Try not to use so much of your teeth."
"Yeah, okay." He leant forward and kissed her again. After a few minutes, she pulled back again, laughing slightly.
"Interesting? What? Wasn't it good?"
Draco flushed and Hermione laughed. "Not everyone can be a good kisser." She touched his cheek. "Besides, I don't like you for your kissing skills. I like you for you."
"Well, I like you for your awkwardness."
"What? I'm not awkward!"
"Yes you are." He leant forward to kiss her again, then paused. "Maybe I shouldn't kiss you since I'm so bad at it."
"I don't care. Just because you can't kiss well doesn't mean that I don't want to kiss you. I enjoy kissing people I like, regardless of their ability." She smiled, reddening. "Besides, I could always teach you," she added shyly.
He laughed and Hermione leant forward and kissed him again.