Hermione Granger was once again studying late in the library, as she used to do so often. The mascara she had applied that morning was now smudged all around the circumference of her eyes, and her hair had returned to its original wide state. She knew it wouldn't remain straight for long.
For some reason she couldn't quite explain, she felt that if she worked hard this evening, it would atone for how poorly she had spent the evening before. Hopefully this right could cancel out the wrong.
Nose deep in ink-saturated parchment and leather-bound hardcover books, she felt at home and at one with herself. It was a feeling she had been slowly losing hold of; it was constantly slipping through her fingers as they reached to grab onto the next stage of her life. But it wasn't something she was willing to let go. It was more something that was being taken from her, and here she was: adamant to reclaim it.
The first stage of this was to check out a book that she always used to read, and now hadn't for quite some time. Except, she couldn't exactly do that because it was past 8pm and the library had closed, so she simply picked the book off the shelf and took it back to her desk.
Staying in the library after Madame Pince closed it up was one of the very few rules her younger self allowed herself to break. It seemed ridiculous that in a school of magic, the library wasn't open at all times.
She lifted up the cover, to look at the library card where she remembered writing her name on many occasions. And there was Draco Malfoy's name, directly below her's, written slightly to the side, as if to avoid touching the letters of her name entirely.
If he had really wanted to avoid contact with her, why borrow the book right after her at all?
And then she remembered a conversation she had had with him, a long time ago, all the way before this turn of events had even been fathomable to her.
"Are you nearly done with that book, mudblood?" Malfoy snarled at Hermione, as he approached her unwillingly in the library.
The name had made her shiver a little, but she pretended not to be affected by it. Hagrid had told her it was the only way to deal with bullies.
"I've finished it twice already, but I'm allowed to keep it for two weeks, you know. I'm planning on returning it in five days time, thank you very much," she replied with an attempt at a cold disinterestedness.
"You're hogging it."
"There's no rule that says I'm not allowed to-"
"My father will be hearing about this," he spat as he turned around and stormed away.
How young and naive they had been! They were full of knowledge but so foolishly lacked understanding. They may have seen the whole world, they may have read every book, they may have learnt every secret of the universe, and still they would have understood nothing.
But she would do anything to go back to that blissful ignorance.
"Thought I might find you here."
Startled, Hermione spun around to find herself staring up at the same blond wizard - whose name she had just read on the library card - now towering over her seated position.
"Here to fight me over this book again?" she asked, eyes squinted at him.
It took him a second to understand quite what she meant.
"You still remember that?" he asked, his eyes wide and expecting.
"I'd forgotten all about it until I just pulled off the shelf now," she replied, before taking a deep breath and continuing more quietly: "You signed your name just beneath mine, as far away from it as possible, of course."
He opened up the book to take a look for himself.
"Yes, I did."
"I would ask you why, but I suppose that would be rather redundant."
"Quite."
His short, monosyllabic responses began to wind her up.
"Why did you come looking for me?"
"Is there a problem with that?"
"Yes," she laughed, ever dismayed by his attitude. "What is it you want? I doubt it's just to talk to me, or see if I'm alright."
"What makes you think that?"
Her frustration rose her to her feet.
"I don't know, Malfoy, maybe just ask all the other girls you've bent over the tables in the divination classroom."
It then became clear to Hermione that his temper had risen to her same level.
"That is why I came to find you."
"What? So you could rub it in my face?"
"Of course that's what you would think," he muttered, shaking his head and massaging his temple with his thumb and index finger.
"What else am I supposed to think?" she cried.
He stopped for a second, attempting to compose himself.
"I only checked out the book because you had it."
"What?" she said, stopping and looking at him inquisitively.
"I didn't give a shit about the book, I just wanted to touch the same pages you had touched."
Her eyes were wide and bewildered. Everything she thought she knew collapsed in that moment.
"Why?" is all she could say, and still it was barely audible.
"Because I am in love with you, Hermione!" he exclaimed. "I didn't know it then, but I know it now. When I checked out that book, I swore I could have felt your warmth woven inside the layers of parchment. I could feel your touch on every turn of the page. Here and there, you had left a little pencil annotation or a tea stain that you wrote a little 'sorry' underneath. My fingers would graze them; it was the closest I could get to being with you."
"Then why did you say all those things?" she blurted out, still shaking with astonishment.
"Because I am a stupid, selfish being and I have been one all my life. I believe you are my only remedy, Hermione."
"I don't exist to be your remedy. I don't exist to be used when it is of most convenience to you."
"You don't. You don't exist for me at all."
Silence.
"I would like to exist for you, though," she thought, but didn't say it out loud.
"I will spend my whole life trying to convince you otherwise," he promised, reaching out to hold her hand. "Heck, I'd even write you a whole book convincing you of it."
He meant it.
"Or you could kiss me instead," she whispered.
It took him a second to process her words, expecting a reproach, not an invitation. But once he had heard her correctly, his hand reached out to caress her cheek and he leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on her lips.
"You don't have to be gentle with me to prove that you love me," she whispered into his ear.
His eyes widened at her words and he smiled slyly at her before he grabbed her by the neck and pushed her up against the bookshelf, locking his lips with hers, kissing all the way through her. The movement of his tongue made her whole body twitch with pleasure, causing her to grip tightly onto his back, digging her nails into him and pulling him closer and closer to her.
His hands were all over her body, outlining her every curve. She was irresistible. Temptation itself, as he had often called her. His downfall, even.
The depth of his kisses increased, the moans that escaped her became ever more intense and he began to reach under her skirt, teasing her in that way he knew drove her insane. Fluent in her.
She reciprocated, starting by feeling underneath his shirt, caressing the scar at the top of his chest, moving slowly and torturously downwards until she reached the bulge in his trousers that was now visibly protruding outwards.
"Fuck," he moaned as her hand touched him. Even over his trousers, her touch exhilarated him.
"I want to do something for you," she whispered in his ear, locking her eyes on his as she took a hair tie from her wrist, and pulled her hair back with it. His eyes were wild, his heart was accelerating and his cock was throbbing with desire.
"Granger, what are you-"
"Shh," she silenced him, pressing her index finger against his lips. Hermione then inched closer to him, bringing her mouth to his ear. She planted a light kiss on his earlobe before whispering: "Where else do you want me to kiss you?"
"You fucking plagiarist," Draco muttered through his faltering breaths.
"Sorry, what was that?" Hermione asked with a playful smirk. "I didn't quite catch it. Did you say 'lower'?"
Draco's body stiffened against her, his eyes wild and curious.
"You don't have to-"
"No?" she replied, her hand reaching beneath his shirt and jumper as she gently stroked the skin beneath it. "You don't have anywhere in mind at all?"
"I have somewhere in mind, all right," he snapped back at her, his complexion - that was usually so calm and collected - was glowing with subtle red undertones.
"Go on," she egged him. "Say it."
"Granger, I swear to fucking Salazar-"
"Oh skip the disclaimer already, Malfoy," she interjected. "You could at least put those profanities to good use."
"My cock," he exploded, his cheeks burning, eyes glaring her down. "I want you to kiss my fucking cock. Happy now?"
"Never better," she winked back at him.
She slowly dropped herself down to her knees and began to unbutton his trousers, gasping slightly upon seeing the outline of his hard dick through the thin material of his underwear. As she pulled the final layer down, she kissed his stomach, and then lower, lower, lower until she kissed the very tip of his sex, causing Draco to groan with pleasure.
Her tongue swirled around on it, teasing him, beginning to build up enough moisture to lubricate the full length of his shaft. From what Ginny had said, she knew it needed to be sloppy and wet. She tried to refrain from overanalysing what she was doing, even if the temptation to succumb to her insecurities kept pressing her.
"Fuck, just like that," he mumbled, head thrown back with pleasure, mouth slightly open and eyes temporarily closed.
She then started to moved up and down his cock, careful to avoid her teeth grazing him as she remembered how Ginny had explicitly said this was probably the worst thing someone could do when giving a blowjob.
She tried to deep throat him, take all of him into her mouth but to say it was a struggle was an understatement. Nonetheless, she attempted to push her head closer and closer to the end, gagging a little a long the way. And then she made it, right to his stomach. It didn't last very long and she immediately pulled away, gagging and attempting to catch her breath.
"Sorry about that," she mumbled, cheeks burning with embarrassment, turning her head away from him but he spun her right back and looked deep, deep into her eyes. Into her soul.
"Don't fucking apologise about any of that. I just got to watch your mouth take all of my eleven inches inside it, gagging at the sheer size of it. You're fucking incredible, Hermione."
Eleven inches. She swooned.
Giving him a quick, appreciative nod, she returned to his cock, wrapping both hands around it and twisting as she sucked on the remaining part of him, which was more than substantial.
"You make me feel so fucking good, Hermione, so fucking good."
She sucked harder and moved her head up and down faster. His grip in her hair tightened as he held her head, not pushing it at all, just holding it, gripping onto her for stability, wanting to have her in his hands.
And then she lifted up her eyes and looked at him as she sucked on his sex, her tongue running up and down his shaft as her head bobbed backwards and forwards.
"Look at me," he panted. "Look at me."
She did exactly so as she continued to use her mouth on him, the groans that escaped him propelling her forward.
And then she stopped.
"I want you inside me. Then your going to pull out and come inside my mouth."
He needed no further encouragement, pulling her up and pressing her against the bookshelf once again, pulling down her tights and her underwear. When he went to prepare her cunt for him with his fingers, he groaned at how wet it was for him already. He performed his usual tricks on her clit and g spot, before she could take it no longer and was begging to feel him inside of her.
"Please, please, Draco."
Draco. It was elemental.
He was just as desperate as her, responding immediately to her request by grabbing hold of his dick and pressing it into her hole, causing her to gasp as she felt her walls stretching to accommodate him.
"You always feel so fucking good," he moaned as he pushed himself in further inside her warmth. "Always so wet and tight."
In a small, poorly-lit corner of the library, Hermione gave a piece of herself to a tall, ice-blond wizard and he gave a piece of himself right back to her.
Her uncontrollable moans and exclamations rattled the bookshelf she was pressed against and echoed through the empty library as she came harder and more intensely than she had ever done in her life. He did exactly as he had asked of her and pulled himself out of her. In response, she fell to her knees, partly to fulfil her promise, partly because her shaking legs could no longer sustain her.
And there she was, mouth wide open for him, resting at the tip of his cock. He did not hesitate to come in her mouth, the way he had always imagined in his late night fantasies, only better. His come spilled down her throat as she swallowed his ejaculation down with one gulp.
Seeing her like almost made him hard again.
"Good girl," he murmured as he watched her swallow his semen, using a finger to wipe the remnants on the side of her lip, staring deeply in his eyes she sucked the tip of her finger.
"Tastes sweeter than hell," she said with a wink.
"Plagiarising me once again, Granger," he tut-tutted as he pulled his underwear and trousers back on. "Struggling for some original thought?"
"You're a plagiarist yourself."
"How so?"
"You copied that time by the lake, when I tried one of your cigarettes," she said tentatively, eyeing him up curiously.
"One can hardly plagiarise themselves, but I'll let that slide. I was merely teaching you how to smoke, Granger, so if you interpreted it in a sexual manner, then I believe that reflects nothing other than your dirty mind," he teased.
"Oh, come on, Draco: Put it in your mouth and suck when I say so. That cannot have been anything other than an innuendo."
"I'm surprised you still remember," he smirked. "Glad to see my words have such an effect on you, Granger."
She cowered, looking away to conceal her embarrassment. Draco then continued.
"Well you were right, Hermione, as you often are. When I said those things to you, I was pretending in my head that you had your little mouth wrapped around my dick, like it was just now, and not the cigarette butt."
Hermione felt herself redden again his words.
"How do you do that?" he asked, looking at her strangely. Or admiring her, perhaps.
"Do what?"
"Still blush at my filthy words like you weren't just screaming my name as I fucked you in the corner of the bloody school library."
She blushed again.
"I don't know, I guess I still- I don't know. I'll try to stop."
"No, no. I like it," he said, pulling her into him and kissing her swollen lips. He could taste himself on her tongue but it didn't matter. "It drives me insane."
She giggled slightly and it thawed a little of the ice within him.
"Well, how many points do I get for that?" she asked, batting her eyelashes and fiddling with his shirt collar.
"Are you flirting with me, Granger?" he asked incredulously.
"Perhaps," she smiled.
"If I could even begin to place a numerical value on what you just fucking did to me, let's just say that Gryffindor would be winning the House Cup for the next decade at least."
Hermione felt herself grin even wider.
"Poor Slytherins. To be betrayed so shamelessly by one of their own house."
"Oh fuck 'em all," he replied. "I'd paint the common room red and gold just to see you look as utterly elated as you did in first year when you snagged the trophy from us."
"I remember your face. You looked positively bent out of shape from all that seething ire."
"Well it was hugely unfair."
"I don't remember you fighting off a troll in the girls' toilets or defeating You-Know-Who," Hermione retorted crossly.
"Back to being a know-it-all swot. Thought we'd lost you there, Granger," Draco snarled back playfully at her. "And that wasn't even that impressive. You, the Weasel and the immortal orphan just got lucky. I still stand by the fact that Slytherin were unjustly robbed."
"Back to defending Slytherin again. Thought we'd lost you there, Malfoy," Granger replied back smartly, both hands on her hips.
He rolled his eyes back at her and fixed his cuff links.
Hermione paused for a moment, watching him. He looked so beautiful, especially with his hair all ruffled out of place. She could have spent a lifetime just looking at him.
"You know, I swore to myself that I wouldn't do this again. That I'd stay and study in the library until an ungodly hour like the good old days."
"Well, this was a decidedly better use of your time, I can tell you that," he smirked.
She smiled back at him cheekily and went to put her underwear and tights back on. He looked at her, admiring her, taking her all in, knowing he'd be replaying this all in his head later when they separated. He wished she could stay with him, in his bed. That he could wake up to her perfectly messy hair, swollen lips and glossy eyes.
Something else then came across his mind, but he was unsure whether to bring it up. After a few moments of consideration, he took in a deep breath and spoke.
"The Yule Ball is soon," he said.
Hermione was facing the other way to Draco, and so he could not see how her face was scrunched up out of dread for that particular topic of conversation.
"It is," she replied, purposely taking longer to put her tights back on so she wouldn't have to face him so soon.
"Well I was wondering if, perhaps, your mind has changed since November."
She knew she had to turn around now.
"What exactly do you mean?"
Draco cleared his throat and straightened his posture. He appeared almost anxious.
"Well in November, you said that-"
"I remember what I said," she replied quickly, cutting him off before he could continue. She did not want to hear him repeat what she had said back then. It was not a memory she looked back upon with particular enjoyment.
"Unfortunately, I also remember what I said," he confessed solemnly. "I cannot look back at it without contempt."
"Then speak none of it," said Hermione, desperate to change the subject.
"I'm afraid I must."
There was a sudden chill in the air between them. Hermione sensed that no good would come out of this conversation, but Draco appeared far too tense to even notice.
He took a few moments to gather his thoughts, trying to find the best possible way in which to address his next suggestion.
"What would your opinion be - what would you think exactly - if I were to suggest once again that we attend the ball together?"
Hermione internally winced. She had not previously given a thought to the matter, believing Draco to be far too proud to ever even consider posing such a question after having already been rejected once.
It was too much. She felt the air around her thin, her breath falter.
In secret, this was all far easier. Keeping whatever the two of them were between themselves felt relaxed and void of pressure. Having everybody know, well that was something else entirely.
Many times, Hermione had tried not to let her insecurities get the best of her. But many times, Hermione had also failed. People would talk. A pureblood member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the sole heir of the Malfoy lineage, with a meaningless Muggleborn like herself.
Such transgressions of boundaries existed only in stories. They did not happen in real life. Could they really illude themselves much longer?
"But everybody would see us together," she finally replied.
Wrong answer.
"Yes, that's kind of the point," he gulped. "My friends already know anyway."
"None of my friends do," she confessed. "None except Luna."
"Well, then this can be the perfect opportunity for them to find out."
"Oh, I don't know, it's a little soon-"
"You're not embarrassed to be seen with me, are you?" he asked, his face slightly fallen.
"It's not that-"
Hermione wished to give him an adequate response, but she knew not how. Better him think that she was embarrassed to be seen with him than be placed in the vulnerable situation of having to confess all her insecurities to him.
"I see," he spat. "Always one to care more for other people's opinions of herself than how she treats those around her. Always so brave, Gryffindor."
"That's not what I meant at all," she said, maybe lying, maybe not. "It's just that it's so soon-"
"I would've thought you respected me enough to be honest with me, Granger," he said. This time there was no anger, only an emptiness. "Clearly you respect me just about enough to lie to me, and in my experience, I've found that requires very little respect at all."
"I'm not lying when I say I care about you, it's just that-"
"I also would have thought you would respect me enough not to say things you don't mean," he interjected, shaking his head as he began to turn away from her.
"Draco, wait-"
He paused, waited and looked back at her. A fractured image of his countenance was projected onto his face.
"If you won't go with me, Granger, promise you won't go with anyone else."
"I would never-"
"You almost did." His voice was cut through with a wincing pain.
"Draco, come on," she cried. "That was a mistake, that was in the past."
"I don't remember you feeling ashamed to attend the ball with him. In fact, you were more than willing. But me? No, I put my pride aside and asked you twice, and still I am not good enough."
Perhaps he deserved it, he thought, but he would not say it aloud. She made a fool out of him, and he would make her miserable for it. He didn't care what that made him. He would do it. And he would do it again.
He knew that both times he had made that same proposal, he had not said the right words. He never even truly apologised for what he had said the first time. That's what he should have started with this time. But of course he fucked it up.
Maybe Hermione was right. She always was, wasn't she? Who were they kidding? And yet, he still sensed that she was holding something back, as if she hadn't fully told him the truth.
"Don't walk away from me again," she implored, as she watched him begin to leave her. "You don't get to push me away like that. You don't."
"I believe this is all your doing, Miss Granger," he replied solemnly. "Goodnight."
And he left her, once again, as he always did. And she had made him leave her, as she always did, because she was a coward, and he was one too, as perhaps they had always been and would always be.