Unforgivable Sin

For The Taking

   From atop a faraway tower, Draco Malfoy watched intently as Hermione Granger enjoyed the company of Ronald Weasley. The two were nestled against a rock in a meadow just before the clearing of the Forbidden Forest, the redhead's arm draped around her shoulder, holding her close. They had spent a fair amount of time simply laughing and carrying on. Though Draco was well out of earshot, he could still see them well enough to tell that the couple's exchange had turned serious. One thing led to another, and Draco watched as Ron leaned in for the kill. The youngest Weasley brother beckoned Hermione's attention, looking her in the eye before slipping a finger underneath her chin and kissing her. All the while, Draco felt a flare of jealousy stirring within himself.

      For years, Draco had put forth a valiant, constant effort to push his inexplicable desires aside. Try as he might, Hermione Granger had taken his thoughts hostage long ago, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Sure, he had attempted to distract himself with other females at Hogwarts. In fact, Draco had, for the most part, every girl at school at his beck and call. He didn't attribute this to his personality. On the contrary, he knew that his sexual reputation is what had allowed him to tally such a number of interests. When he and his partners departed from their rendezvous, he felt satisfied – that is, until he ran into Hermione, at which point he returned immediately to square one. There was a time when he thought keeping a steady girlfriend would do the trick, and he toyed with Pansy Parkinson for a spell. None of it worked. He still wanted more... He wanted Hermione.

      Her presence was maddening, to say the least, but not in the manner it formerly was when his 11-year-old self bumped into her as they boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time. No... It was vastly different now. Literally everything about her peaked his interest. Granted, it was all lust, no doubt, but having to put up a front for all these years, pretending that his sole interest in the girl was only hatred, was driving him insane. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how much longer he could maintain the show. An only child from a wealthy family at the top of the hierarchy of magical families, Draco wasn't accustomed to not getting his way, and he vowed to himself at the beginning of this school year that he would, somehow, someway, finally fulfill the requests submitted by his subconscious.

   Now in his sixth year, Draco remembered the day Hermione sparked his blaze of desire for her. The two shared Care of Magical Creature lessons together. Hagrid served as the class instructor, and in fashion true to himself, he had mocked the oaf. Before he knew it, Hermione slapped the shit out of him for doing such. She proceeded to give him a piece of her mind, and at the time, he couldn't tell which hurt worse, his face or his pride. She had no clue what that strike had done to him, nor what it would do to her in the long run. Put simply, Draco wondered what kind of ravishing animal she was in bed to have mustered up such courage to blatantly slap him. It was a daring, sexy, brave move. It proved her thoroughness as a Gryffindor. In his years at Hogwarts, Draco had succeeded in taking a girl from each house, minus Granger's. That's not to say he hadn't been given the chance; it was strictly a mindful choice on his behalf. Still, he'd never been with a Gryffindor before, and maybe that was part of Granger's appeal.

   Of course, there was another reason he wanted her... He'd rather the golden Harry Potter kill him than openly admit it, but damn, Hermione had turned into a goddess seemingly overnight. When he laid eyes on her the first time five years prior, she was nothing short of hideous. She had these frizzy, shit-colored, unmanageable locks, and her teeth protruded out so that he was sure she'd accidentally slice someone open, should they be too close when she smiled. Now, she had grown into her bite. What's more, he couldn't help but give way his attention to her curves. She wasn't too busty, but she had a nice ass that teetered ever so slightly underneath her robes when she walked. Her hair was just as unmanageable today as it was at King's Cross, but in the right light, it glistened in the sun. In fact, as he gazed down at her now, he realized her hair was glinting in the exact manner he was thinking of. Before he knew it, Draco found himself drowning in thoughts about how his quarters in the dungeons had very little light, and he fantasized about having her in his bed as ambient wandlight illuminated her locks, which would bound up and down on his pillows in rhythm with his strokes inside her. The thought of it made him flush, despite the frigid December air.

   In short, Hermione Granger had an air about her that no other girl possessed. She exuded confidence and self-worth and sex and intrigue... Even if she was a Mudblood.

   And that precisely was the problem for Draco. He wanted her ferociously, but he shouldn't. She was forbidden fruit. Nonetheless, the time came that he could no longer deny the matter at hand. When he finally admitted that fact to himself, he began taking advantage of every opportunity to relish her presence, however secretive he must do it. She was always punctual, arriving 15 minutes prior to class time without fail. "If you're not early, you're late," she'd always advise her two blithering idiot sidekicks of best friends. Knowing this, Draco made it a point to arrive to classes they shared precisely five minutes after her. After all, those 10 minutes of alone time began adding up.

   It made for a difficult schedule to maintain, because he knew he'd have to put forth the same effort for each class, not just those they shared, in order to steer clear of any suspicions. When his friends asked about his newfound sense of timeliness, he simply answered that he was sick of Gryffindor winning the House Cup year after year. A diehard Slytherin, he was simply trying to earn extra house points. In reality, that was total bullshit, but it seemed to be a sufficient answer to date.

   All the same, Hermione Granger hadn't a clue about his burning want for her. She was absolutely oblivious, as was the rest of the Hogwarts population. He spewed words of detestation so harsh that would make the Dark Lord himself cry. He had yet to make a move on her, but it was not out of fear of rejection. No, he was Draco Motherfucking Malfoy. He'd get what he wanted. The hold up was purely a matter of internal conflict. He was well aware that once he crossed the line, broke his own rules, became a hypocrite, and lowered his standards for a Mudblood, there would be no going back. Despite it being just for a fuck, Draco knew he'd never be able to rid himself of the filth. This year, he was going for it. No longer could he deal with merely getting by. He had to know for himself if she was as good as he anticipated. Would she be worth it? Only time would tell, and the revelation would happen soon.

   He hadn't a clue how long he'd been standing there, lost in his own thoughts and wonders about Granger, but when he snapped out of it and looked down, the sight was too much. Much to Draco's dismay and Ron's enjoyment, their snogging had progressed. Weasley was lying on top of Hermione. The two were still fully clothed, thank Merlin, but Draco had been in Ron's exact position before, and he knew exactly what the blood traitor was rolling his hips for. Draco watched as Hermione kissed Ron's neck and ran her hands through his hair. The flare of jealousy he felt before was now a raging fire, preparing to set him off. "Goddammit," he cursed aloud, slamming a fist into the brick wall next to him. Knowing he could take no more, he turned quickly on his heel and left the scene behind, striding briskly back to his quarters, devising a plan to off Weasley from what was inevitably, undeniably his for the taking.