Maybe she shouldn't have.
Maybe it was too far, perhaps he was right.
She refused to let him relish in that.
She wants to regret it. With every bone In her body, she wants to say she'd take it back with full confidence. She has to convince herself she had her regrets, that she wish it didn't happen, she's almost screaming in her head, but denial is something she doesn't favor.
The sense of his lips on her collarbone linger through the night, as his hand on her waist is something she still feels.
No--Hermione it wasn't right.
But it felt right.
She tore herself from the inside out. Not because she regretted it, but because she didn't.
It wasn't something she's felt before, it wasn't Ron and her holding hands down the hall, not even close.
She hated to admit it, but she's never felt that with Ron, not once, not even for a second. Her and Ron didn't have a thing in common, all the way from their strides, to their mere small talk, the differences were absurd. Ron and her were something that people expected, something that seemed destined in stone. Not something she truly desired.
Malfoy touched her like he wanted her, Ron touched her like he had her.
He touched her with hate, but somehow that was ten times better than with Ron and all his love talk.
She feels his teeth edge into her skin like he couldn't get enough.
She felt like lips of the enemy had carried against her ear, In which it had. It felt inhumane, immoral, everything she went against. Yet there she was touching her skin, in which his lips were wanted. They were so close to the point in which it was wrong. Yet not even for a second did she want to back up.
She didn't side with Malfoy, not even in back in school, not now.
She kept lingering on it, through the night and even when she awoke. She paced her room till her legs hurt.
She could still hear his raspy voice as his wand was against her neck, in which she felt exhilaration run smooth in her veins.
"You'll regret this Granger, remember who's the one touching you."
She ran her hands through her hair, as his words replayed themselves on a spiral.
Guilty. She was, with everything in her power she tried to clear her mind of it, and say she wouldn't do it again.
She also wasn't a liar.
Her hands traced against his bite marks that were perfectly placed, as she stared at them through the mirror. Just the look alone had rush streaming through her system.
"I hate you Granger, I hate you till the word dries out..."
"Say the word and I'll do it harder..."
She took a deep breath at the remembrance of his abruptly spoken words.
His words swarmed through her head at an ungodly speed.
He said she was horrid, yet didn't hesitate to touch her skin.
It wasn't usual, it wasn't like her, it was exhilarating, nothing she's felt before. It felt forbidden in every sense.
"Fuck you Granger..."
He said it will all his might, but something told her he didn't mean every word he said. The way his teeth shuddered into her skin told her otherwise.
This was Malfoy, not some head held, glamorized being that the books raved on about, no--nothing close. Not someone who would sweet talk you to their liking, no quite the opposite.
Malfoy was not that man.
He would be the one neglected in the text with the horrific backstory that deemed him a menace, not the spotlight of the story with the protagonist. The one worth loathing.
"Come on Hermione, stop thinking about it." She subtly whispered to herself, as she clenched her jaw, pacing back and forth.
She soon finds herself heading for the door, anything to get her out of the closed space she felt trapped in.
Lingering through the halls she assumes she'll run into the man thats responsible for her wrecking thoughts.
And of course she does.
She sees him cuthcing his bandaged arm as if he's still in pain. She inspects for a second, taking in what she can, his raw expression, one he expresses when he dosent think shes around.
He soon looks up from his wound.
"Take a picture Granger, if you didn't know it actually lasts longer." He spoke smug, as she blinked back and away.
She's almost taken back at his remark.
"I was just going to ask how it feels, but If you're just going to be a prick--" She offendly begins.
"What will you do then?" He tauntingly questions, stopping her mid sentence.
Don't Hermione, don't ask.
She's silent for a moment, holding her head high, as he's anticipating her next words.
Don't do it. Don't ask.
"Well then, how is it?" She lowly asked, with lack of care in her tone, as Malfoy chuckles beneath his breath, slight shaking his head.
"Well Granger, since you put away that big ego of yours to ask--" He lingers, seeing her annoyance rise.
"It feels like shit, and the look is even worse." He speaks, as his forearm is exposed.
"You know but thank god I had Miss Granger to the rescue." He speaks in taunt, with a quirk of his lip, satisfied with his word choice.
"Are you now?" She questions with a raised brow.
"Its debatable." He grins with stubbornness.
His eyes flicker from the bite marks he crafted, switching between her skin and her widened eyes.
"You wish it didn't happen, am I right?" He speaks muffled to the ground, as Hermione furrows her brows.
"What?" She questions.
"That." He speaks insinuating the teeth marks. "You cursed yourself out in the mirror didn't you?" He questions monotoned.
The silence is withering.
"I fucking knew it."
"You don't know what I think." She abruptly chimes, as his eyes are dead in every angle.
"Granger, look me in the fucking eyes and say you don't." He questions, as he grits through his teeth.
"Tell me you don't hate yourself for letting me touch you." His voice is almost timid, as he fiddles with his bandage.
"What you think I'm ashamed?" She asks low.
Hermione you should be, come on, it was a mistake.
"Can you tell me your fucking not?" He questions eagerly.
She doesn't know what to say.
"Thats what the fuck I thought." He speaks beneath his breath, as she strives for the words.
Hermione--you do, come on just say you do.
You regret it--you have to.
"No." She blurts immediately, as his eyes study her from every inch.
"No, maybe I don't." She follows, as she struggles to maintain steady eye contact.
He looks at her with question.
You fucking should Granger.
But me? Do I regret it? No. Fuck no.
I'd do it again, any chance you'd fucking let me, I'd kiss you're velvet fucking skin like its the last thing on this earth.
Think of Heroin Granger, you know it gets addicting over time--thats how you fucking feel.
___
She doesn't know what she just said.
She said it fast, confidently, surely.
In moments like these she wish she had Ginny to speak too, it was alway easier to talk to her about anything going on.
"Granger, you know you'd be disowned by Gryffindors at this rate." Theo calls out, book in hand as Hermione finds herself in the main living room, Parkinson, Blaise and Nott front and centered.
She didn't recall seeing Zabini in the manor, but perhaps he was hidden by a heavy cloak, as they all were.
But now, they were in their usual clothing. In that moment she forgot about who they truly worked for. But that didn't mean it wasn't true.
One thing they all had in common? They all covered their forearms. It was either with long sleeves, arm warmers, bandages with no wound--everything and anything, they always kept their marks covered.
"What?" She asked confused, slowly making her way closer, as the awkward silence drowns her out.
"You'd be torn to shambles--you know for interacting with a Slytherin, Malfoy of all people." He taunts as he peeks her way over the books pages.
"Granger, I am surprised, what happened to that Gryffindor courage?" Zabini chimes in, as they all stare her way.
She doesn't think she's ever had a real conversation with either one of them besides Theo. She knows they all carry the same mark, yet that was about it.
"Please, there isn't such thing, a hero complex? Now thats more accurate." Pansy smartly adds on, as they switch off on words.
"How would you know?" Hermione asks in offense.
"Parkinson give her a break." Zabini mindlessly speaks, as Pansy is dull in emotion, per usual.
"Who knows, perhaps you fall on that bloody face of yours, Granger would be front and centered with a wand and first aid kit." Blaise adds on.
"Yeah, for Gryffindors, god forbid she helps a death eater." She mocks.
"Nope, thats where your a little confused, Gryffindors actually would help any and everyone, they have this bloody--need of being the savior, so lets say Granger did hate your guts she'd still save your life." Zabini speaks casually, as Parkinson quirks a brow.
Nott nods in agreement.
"Yeah, yeah...perhaps" She mutters beneath her breath.
She spoke it low, but enough for Hermione to hear. She's almost shocked. Pansy didn't say something vile.
"Although not all of em--whats his name? Weasel?" Blaise questions.
"Weasley?" Nott helps.
"Right, right, Granger didn't you have that nasty bloody splinter that one day, you wouldn't stop complaining about it, and the red head told you to suck it up?"
Hermione takes a big gulp. She remembers, she remembers not favoring Ron's word choice that day.
"Yeah, not very gryffindor of him if you ask me." Blaise mutters beneath his breath, as Hermione looked at all three of them, anxiously.
"Malfoy used that day to bash the poor man even more." Nott slightly chuckles, at the remembrance.
"Right what'd he say again? Weasley's the last prick to be telling someone to suck it up?" Blaise openly questions.
"Yup, thats it." Nott confirms, as Hermione's cheeks flush with embarrassment.
Hermione is deep in thought. She lingers on what Blaise said. How all the other peers from Gryffindor would react to her interactions with Malfoy. It was a bitter taste to the tongue. Simply because she thinks he's almost right.
She also doesn't want to think of the such.
"Granger, here take this book since thats what your into and all, your thinking too hard, maybe this shitty romance can fix that." Nott speaks, inspecting the back cover of the book, displeased, as he hands it her way.
She stares at it and him for a brief moment.
"Come on take it, I don't bite." Nott speaks witty, with a sly grin as she reaches her arm out.
Hermione skims through the pages, as minutes, perhaps even an hour of all of them in the same room pass by.
"Granger what was it about that Weasley anyway?" Nott mindlessly questions, slightly diverting attention away from fiddling with his sleeve.
He spoke to her like old friends catching up.
She stares up from the page, bracing, and anticipating his next words.
"Or the other Gryffindors for that matter? None of you seemed to get along--I swear I saw you all shouting at each other once." Theo continues, as Hermione scours for an answer.
"Thats how they are--I swear Its almost like a --cult." Pansy adds, her tone less malicious than Hermione last remembered.
She reckons what Theo speaks of. They were friends, all the way since first year, but if she had to compare their compatibilities, she'd be lost. Ginny was one of few she felt she resonated with. She didn't judge, she didn't bicker nor question, she just listened Hermione out, every time.
"I, I don't know." Hermione speaks as she faces her head to the wall, staring mindlessly.
"Rather a shocker, I thought you all were some group of--kindness and peace or whatever the hell else." Pansy chimes.
"Yeah, not always." Hermione mutters beneath her breath.
"Well I don't mean to be a sour prick, but some of your so called friends used to rat me out in potions for so called 'vile language' whatever the hell that was about." Nott scoffs, as he rolls his eyes.
"It was me and Nott in the back of every detention, hell we got sent there for even breathing." Blaise adds on, as this wasn't news to Hermione.
No one liked to admit it, but it was true. Most Slytherins had to stay after class, far too many times. This erupted further when instigators started spreading their death eater titles, even before anyone knew for certain.
"Eh--but Granger your not too bad." Nott speaks, with a sly grin, as she returns it.
It was a rather unexpected call, but not a bad one.
She's been sitting, book in hand, as the three pass the heavy flask down the couch, even going in for refills.
She notices Pansy and Theo close In proximity. She knew what Nott refused to admit.
Hearing their open conversations, some rather intricate--deep, even including her in some of their talks.
Malfoy soon chimes in, rather timid as he still clutches his forearm, per usual.
"Oi--Malfoy that tattoo of yours feeling any better?" Nott announces in sarcasm, as Malfoy narrows his eye.
"Do me a favor Nott--bugger off." He speaks, confused at Hermione's casual presence.
"I'll take that as a no." Nott speaks before taking another swish of whiskey.
Hermione glances down at his visibly swollen mark, as she could tell through his bandage. She knew her healing charm would only do so much, yet it was a violent wound.
"Well Granger, that book, trash isn't it?" Nott asks as she closes the cover.
"Not my favorite." She lowly speaks, as she places it to her side.
The silence is brief, Nott or Zabini always manages to break it.
"Exactly what I thought--rubbish in a page." Nott finishes, as Malfoy took slow steps to the couch Granger was placed.
He sat on the arm rest, as Hermione gave occasional obvious glances his way. He turned her head the second she did.
She casually pushes her body to the father end closer to where he sat, as he noticed instantly. She gets right in the perimeter of his ear, as she hovers over
"No, I don't." She whispers, as his brown arches.
"What are you on about about Granger." He quietly huffs as he levels with her.
"I don't regret it." She speaks, still in a low tone, as she stares him straight in the eye.
She's sure in her answer. Assertive in the deliverence.
"Don't say things you don't mean Granger." He speaks in a fainted whisper, bringing himself to her ear, as his lips slowly brush against the bridge.
"I do." She breathes, pulling herself closer for just a second longer.
"Mean it." She speaks before pulling back.
And she wasn't lying.
She wants to see it flicker in his eyes, she wants him to believe her.
And she sits in silence, arms in lap, just hoping he does.
__
She finds herself still sitting in the same place.
Theo is long passed out in the far corners couch, with Pansy head on his side. It looked rather accidental, but she knew they wouldn't mind the position as they awoke.
She noticed messy engravings on their the sides, as they were exposed, whilst they laid by one another. They were matching marks--tattoos almost, but they were messily placed as well. It looked as if they gave each other matching ones themselves.
She remembers the muggle phrase. A stick and poke.
Theo had a messy lock on his stomachs side, and Pansy had a messily drawn key to match. It looked like the doings of two drunk lovers.
She found reason to believe they had involvement with one another as every second passed. Yet for some reason they were too stubborn to show it in front of others.
For a second the rooms and halls were at peace. She didn't have to think about horcruxes, whenever she did her head started to spin, yet she knew it wouldn't last long before she's ridiculed with the topic once more.
She silently creeps out the room trying not to make any noise, as she bumped into someones rather tall figure as she scurried out.
"Hell-sorry." She speaks in a whisper taking a step back, fixing her blouse.
"Sorry? Thats weird leaving your tongue." He taunts, as she almost regrets saying it.
"Want me to take it back?" She questioned, as he chuckled in silence.
"Thats more like you." He faintly speaks, as he looks at her switch looks between the wall and his gaze.
She strides forward, going past him, before he calls out again.
"Chatting with death eaters Granger? Very unmoral of you." He taunts as she turns herself back around, as he inches nearer.
"You don't know my morals." She hisses, as he eyes her.
"I know some of them--like letting me touch you wouldn't have passed the test years back." He speaks in a muted tone, as his finger grazes against her jawline.
And she's thinking he might be right.
That was also a different time.
She knows it's wrong, but now she has a rather different mindset. A conflicting one.
"Bugger off, you don't know all you think you do." She says in defense, as his index finger takes its time on her skin.
"You know I'm right." He speaks lowering his head, matching her height.
"Because if you did, you would get thrown out the Gryffindor group, isn't that right?" He speaks low, and mindlessly as his finger is running up and down her jaw line.
"I'll be transparent with you Granger, I'd love to fucking see that." He muffled, as her brow arches.
"What, seeing me alone?" She asks in defense, as he watched her eyes widen.
It's to his utter amusement.
"Maybe." He chimes, his head leaning further in, closing in more space.
She would be surprised if anyone else said this. But she doesn't retaliate with too much force, perhaps she thought the same way with him.
"Of course you would." She speaks, tensing at his touch effortlessly hovering over her.
His finger grazes over her neck, trailing to her collarbone, as his eyes flickered from her eyes to her chest. Her fingernails etch into her palm as an immediate reaction.
"Getting thrown out wouldn't have really been a bad thing." He lowly speaks as her breath heightens.
"You would have been away from that Weasley, which is a blessing in itself." He speaks as her eyes narrow, his touch distracting her from his words.
"You're quite the bastard Malfoy." She speaks as his hand still flutters along her chin, holding the firm eye contact, as the other hovers over her hip, with a light, yet vivid grip.
"Glad you caught on." He speaks dangerously close to her ear, as his breath sent chills down her spine. She felt adrenaline rush right through her veins.
"You've hated him since first year. Why?" She breathes out as his lips trails along her ears lobe, interrupting her sentences.
"He's a coward." He breathes out, as he's in the crook of her neck, his legs almost between her thighs, as there slightly parted.
"Even when he was with you." He whispers, as his finger trails up and down the side of her upper thigh.
Every ounce of her is trying to back away, but she does what she wants, not what her brain wants. Not the logical part of her brain--no the risky one she's always wanted to use.
"Is this about that time he told me to suck it up?" She questions, as Blaise brought up Malfoy's reaction to that phrasing.
"Yeah. He should've been the one to do that." He huffs against her skin, as its almost painful in the best way. Painful since its Malfoy's breath thats against her.
"I figured you'd agree with him." She gasps, as one hand glides between her inner thighs, swiftly moving up and down, almost making her squeeze them shut, as his other toys around her throat.
"If you want me to say it Granger, yeah you get me on my last nerves, but I prefer me throwing the insults, not the red head." He harshly spoke in her ears proximity, as his fingers kept her legs opened, allowing his index finger to ponder.
"I hate him, I do, I really fucking do." He spat, as his hand teases around her upper thigh, her fainted breath fueling him even more.
"So fucking much." He breathes with force, as she can feel the anger radiate off his breath, as his touch got stricter.
"You do too, don't you? You don't like him either." he roughly spoke, loud and clear in her ears range, as she feels wrong with her thoughts.
She couldn't say it. She couldn't admit it.
"You don't have to lie Granger, he was a fucking prick and you know it." His breath is almost shared with hers, as the craving grew rapid with each swift movement he possessed.
He knows their lips coming to contact was dangerous. But he can't stay away. He tries, but it's inevitable.
The affection--the tension, its vile--but it consumes them both.
"No I cant--" She rebels against, not wanting the words to leave her tongue. She felt best to keep her thoughts on Weasley to herself.
"Yeah you can Granger, you can fucking say it, you don't owe him a thing." He initiates, as his lips brush agains hers, just waiting for the words to leave her tongue.
"Say it, say how you really felt about him."
She doesn't--she cant. She prays and hopes for something good to say, but Ron wasn't the match for her, everyone knew it, especially her.
"Come on Granger I know you want to, you used to argue all the time, I fucking loved watching him get you angry." He rasps as her bottom lip catches briefly between his teeth, as she's protesting with her mind, but his touch is diverting.
"I enjoyed watching your blood boil, and shouts come out of that mouth of yours when he was around." He pushes her, he does whatever he can to get the words to roll off her tongue like she's been dying to say it.
And she almost has been.
His hand dwindles away from her necks space, gilding to her lip as her head falls slightly back, enduring bliss from a mere touch.
"Thats feels good doesn't it Granger?" He taunts as his fingers wisp along her rattled skin, as he feels her melt.
She slightly nods her head, as her eyes flicker anywhere but at his, knowing they would be placed right on her. And they were. His gaze watched her struggle to speak clear, as he can see the conflict in her eyes.
He was touching her with ease.
In these moments she cursed herself silently. Not because she regrets what's she's doing, no quite the opposite. In these moments she knows she messed up. She's ruined. She's ruined because as he almost died right on the floor she actually gave a shit, she's ruined because she knows he hates her--so does she but for some reason its luring--its not Ron's gentle words, its not even similar, which is exactly why she likes it.
It wasn't predictable--it was dangerous in the best way.
She compared him side by side to the affects of a drug. The addictive sense, the adrenaline rush, all of it.
"Please Granger. Words." He spoke rough, as his hand grabs her inner thigh even firmer than before, with every gasp she breathes.
She almost tries to speak, yet thinks long and hard.
"I don't want to feed your ego." She whispers out, as she feels his faint chuckle in the crook of her neck.
"Of course you don't." He mutters, as his lips glide against her ear.
"I still haven't gotten an answer Granger." He rasps, as he almost indulges in her exasperated breaths.
"It feels good doesn't it?" His voice, its dark, almost rattling.
She doesn't want to admit it. In some way it was wrong, yet not one of them would dare take a step back. They both have their minds racing for logic, but their actions do what they deem foul.
You're driving me insane Granger.
Stop making me want to be this close.
Stop doing this to me.
Fuck--you make me mad.
Insane.
"Come on Granger use that voice of yours." He gasps out, his breath hitting her ear, as she bites back her teeth. His hand grazes against her thigh, at some point barely touching her, yet still feeling her heavy weight breath.
His hand snakes to her necks back, slightly tugging it, allowing room to place his parted lips on her warm skin. His teeth sinking into her skin, making her feen for more. His other hand still moving swift between her slightly parted legs, motioning over her inner thigh.
He loved it. He relished that he knew only he could make her feel this way.
"Tell me who else could do this to you." He's almost trapping her in silence, as he knew the answer.
His breath is her bringdown.
Her give in.
"No one." She gasps out, relishing in the pleasureful sting his teeth provided.
He almost melts at her words.
Its music too his ears.
No one else could have her feeling that good.
Just him.
"No one is that right?" He almost mocks, he wants to hear it again. He wants to hear her say it on a loop.
"No one." She firmly gives in, as his hand slightly grips tighter at her thigh, with every word she said.
"Thats right." He speaks smug, his voice dark and rasp, yet his mind is desperate for her taste.
He felt as if his tongue was dry if it wasn't on her skin. His hand was cold unless she was beneath it.
"I'm not the right one to do this with Granger." He warns, as his hand glides upwards, as he fiddles with her underwear's brim.
"I'm the fucking last one who should touch you like this." His voice is assertive in her ear, as she lets out panted breaths.
"I know." She breathes, as she struggles out for words.
His hand moving its way towards her neck, placing her gaze right on his, as his tongue runs along her bottom lip.
"Granger, you'll regret it, all of it, you'll regret I ever fucking touched you." He warns, his teeth light taking in her parted bottom lip.
And she says her only truth.
"I'll regret it more if you don't." She lets out.
His breath is heavy.
He's almost angry at himself.
Angry at how bad he wants it.
Wants her.
His teeth enclose around her lip to the point where he slightly draws blood, yet she doesn't even notice because its all too good.
His teeth against her skin is too good.
"Say it then, fucking say it, say you like it when I touch you." He almost sneers, his grips on the top brink of her thigh hardening, she almost feels the imprints of his hand.
"Say it." he almost begs.
She wants to refuse as much as she can. She doesn't want to admit it. She doesn't want to cave in.
And he hopes he leaves them. He hopes his teeth marks and hand prints stay on her body long enough for her to remember how good she felt when he left them behind.
"Please just fucking say it Granger, you're fucking killing me." He harshly breathes out as his bite gets stronger.
Don't give In Hermione.
Her whimpers have him feen.
"Fucking do it. Fucking say it." His voice exasperated.
He's desperate for her words.
Desperate for her to say it.
The tension is built, it's weighing on the both of them.
"Yes." She gaps, as his finger fiddles with her underwear's rim, as his teeth only sink into hers tighter.
They're both vulnerable. Vulnerable against the others touch.
They're breaths are deadly to the both of them, the silence making them ever more eager.
Its silent, their stare is intoxicating, his eyes are mercilessly fixed on her, as he takes his few steps back.
"You might fucking regret this, but for now I'll let you know you're as addictive as fucking heroin Granger." He rasps, his teeth grazing over her bottom lip.
And she's almost reckless with her thoughts. The ones she had of him.
How wrong it was, yet she couldn't deny how good, right it felt.
To the point in which it almost hurt them.
Hurt them because they wanted to feel it again.
The shouldn't have, but they wanted to.
It felt forbidden.
Yet forbidden in the best way.
Would love to know your thoughts in the comments.