The Pitfall (A Dramione Fanfiction)

Dreams and a Plot for Power

Monday, September 7, 1998

Hermione rubbed her lower back in irritation. She didn't know why they even called them broom closets. They were mostly filled with old school books, empty vials, and Petri dishes. You know, all the breakable items they didn't want lying around. And the one they had just occupied was more of a room than a closet, considering its large size and the fact that it had a small, cluttered table.

So in the broom closet, that mostly lacked its namesake, Hermione gave in. It was the least she could do considering she had ignored him the night before. So it was probably karma, or maybe just really bad luck, that in the middle of their heated tryst she'd found the sole broom the room contained. It had poked into her flesh as they had exchanged violent kisses. She hadn't had time to move to a more comfortable position, so she had endured the agitating object as they continued attacking each others clothes.

He had hurriedly ushered a charm and hadn't even bothered with foreplay or getting her "ready". This time hadn't been about her at all. It was about him. He'd taken out all his pent up anger on her. She could tell by the way he ravaged her, holding her tightly, and slamming into her roughly. A few times he had even bitten her hard enough that she was sure he'd broken the skin. She didn't resist it, though. She let him. She knew it was what he needed. He didn't want to talk about his father, at least not to her. She could understand that. It wasn't like they were "friends." But even if they were, she doubted that he told his Slytherin buddies about his problems. It was just part of him being a Malfoy. Keep your problems and emotions to yourself, or something like that.

So instead of talking to him about it, she let him show her how angry he was by the use of her body. She let him spill his emotions out in the form of hot, angry kisses and rough, bruising shagging. It didn't really hurt like she expected it would. It was actually kind of sadistically exciting to her, the twinge of pain and pleasure at the same time. When it was over, and they had regained their composure, she was sort of sorry it had to end. She liked him taking so much control.

They had proven that they could do this with no strings attached. But there had been a moment, somewhere between his teeth sinking into her neck and her sighing his name, that she felt they had some other kind of connection. Though she really couldn't be sure.

Godric she was bloody mental.

There must be something completely fucked up in her head. To think she enjoyed having this kind of vile relationship with Malfoy, it was crazy, but it worked. Somehow, it worked.

She heard someone call her name as she made her way down the hall.

"Hermione?"

Oh, great.

"I thought you were out in the courtyard?"

She turned, making eye contact with the redhead. "Who told you that, Ronald?"

"Luna did-" He was giving her a curious look, his head cocked to the side and his mouth slightly open. "'Mione, did I just see you come out of a broom closet?"

Her heart fluttered. Had he seen Malfoy exit before her? "Luna was mistaken and...Yes, what of it?"

"What bloody business do you have in a broom closet?"

"Inventory..." She noticed that he was looking way to hard at the place where her jaw met her neck. Maybe there was a mark..."Professor Flitwick wanted me to do it yesterday but I forgot." She said hastily, lacing her fingers around her wand and trying desperately to perform a silent illusion charm on her neck.

"Inventory?" He asked suspiciously, stepping closer to her. "Of what? Brooms?"

"There's actually a shortage of brooms in there, to be honest." She retorted, backing up and placing her hand on her neck as he advanced. "But let's not get carried away with talk of brooms." She waved a dismissive hand in front of her face. "You said you were you looking for me?"