Temporary Loss of Control
( Warning : smut will be included by this point )
The room was silent. Everything was unnaturally quiet and still, as though every living thing had left the area, avoiding this place, avoiding adding any ounce of life in the room. It was eerily still. There was no wind, no air, nothing to signify any sign of life inside or outside of the room.
There was nothing...
He stood in the room, a place that looked strangely familiar yet new. He knew that he had been here before, or a place very similar to it, but he just couldn't pinpoint when and where.
The couches were in their places, the walls lined with books, and the hearth glowed. Yet...the flames seemed to have been stopped mid-movement, not a crackling sound, no rhythmic, hypnotic move of the flames. It was as though they had been frozen to the spot.
He looked around, hearing only the loud thundering of his heart in his chest, shivering in the still, cold air. The fire gave no heat; the fridge gave no hum...
Everything was still, frozen, as though time had come to a halt.
His throat sealed shut, mouth drying as he began to gasp for air.
Something...something bad happened here...
He eyed the staircase, gazing into the shadows that bathed it, and felt dread slowly begin to consume him. A morbid fascination held him rooted to the spot, contemplated over whether he would take a step forward or turn and run.
He didn't know what to do...he wanted to move ahead but at the same time, it took all of his willpower not to flee. What...what happened here?
A shadow flickered above, shifting along the staircase, and his heart leapt wildly against his ribs. Every breath he took was a shuddering gasp, painful rippling through his body as he pushed back every ounce of fear that threatened to consume him.
He took an involuntary step back as feet began to tread down the stairs.
He saw their legs, saw the pyjamas that were just too short, and recognition began to flow through him.
The sleeves were too short, reaching the person's forearms, and their hands were clenched in tight fists, either to hold back from hitting something or to keep something tightly in their grasp.
His heart raced, panic rushing through his body as blood roared in his ears. Something told him, whispered to him in the silence, that he knew who was coming and what had happened.
The young man's freckled face created no shock. There was no confusion, no bafflement; the sight of the man created only unwavering terror and a gruesome curiosity that kept him rooted to the spot.
'Ron...'
He thought to speak the words but discovered that his vocal chords had all but ceased to function. He tried opening his mouth to croak out the words, but it was sealed shut. He was as silent as the room.
The man stopped at the landing, fists clenched, and the faintest sound began to pummel his ears.
Drip, drip, drip.
What was that? Was sound dared interfere with the unholy silence of this room?
"Harry..." Ron's voice was peculiar....he didn't sound like himself. He sounded detached and hollow, as though he was a complete separate entity from his body.
"Harry," he repeated, dark, empty eyes lifting to look at the brunet, "I did it. They deserved it, so I did it."
'Did what? What did you do? To who?'
Horror and shock sent tremors through his body; violent, uncontrollable spasms that shook him to the core.
"She left me....left me for him...so they deserved it."
Drip, drip, drip.
What was that noise?
"I...I killed them, Harry, and I can't let you tell anyone."
Ron's hands opened and a violent wave of blood burst forth, a massive tidal wave that soaked everything and began to fill up the room.
Harry couldn't move...it was up to his chin...he couldn't do anything...
It was in his mouth, filling his nose, the thick, coppery taste of blood flooding his body as he struggled to breathe and survive.
'Help,' he tried to moan, to scream, to cry...
He was choking on it, swallowing it, drowning in the blood...he couldn't....he had to...
"Harry! Harry!"
Harry jerked into an upright position, panting loudly for air as his eyes darted about the room, searching for the faintest remains of his nightmare.
Nightmare...it was just a nightmare.
He felt Ginny wrap her arms around him and basked in the comfort of her embrace. If only she had been there every other nightmare.
"Are you okay, Harry?"
He glanced towards her, saw the concern in her eyes, and the unspoken question that was nothing but a sharp reminder of their past. "Don't worry...he won't be back. Ever. It was...it was just a nightmare."
He hated lying to her, hated not being able to tell her truth. But he knew that it would worry her; she would grow tense and impatient, become as much of a worrywart as her mother, and she would not leave him alone.
"It was a pretty bad one," she replied, rubbing against his sweat-soaked back for emphasis.
"I think George probably snuck something into my drink last night. I had heard that he was trying these new aphrodisiac pills and I suppose he wanted me as a test subject." He managed a grin. "I'll have to tell him that they do the opposite."
He watched Ginny's eyes pry and search, trying to find some flaw in his lie and point it out to him. It was an easy enough lie to prove true, however, since George had been considering aphrodisiac pills, more to pull pranks on people in public situations.
"Imagine, the Minister gets up for a meeting and he has a huge stiffy. Wouldn't that be brilliant?"
Hopefully the act of Ginny tracking down George and berating him for sneaking Harry the pill would last long enough for Harry to sneak out of the Burrow, find Hermione, and ask her if what she was doing was really worth dying over.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She just couldn't get herself to move. One part was the excuse that she felt too groggy to be able to get up without falling over, and the second part was pure selfishness in that she felt too comfortable to move.
She still couldn't believe that they had fallen asleep like that, wrapped around one another as the tears dried on her face and his laughter faded into heavy, relaxed breathing. A part of her still couldn't believe how secure and warm his embrace was, how much she enjoyed the tickle of his breath on her throat , the way his hand was protectively pressed against her hip.
Somehow, at some point in time during the night, one of them - most likely her - had woken up and shut off the laptop. But that was the most movement either of them had made throughout the night. She had woken up with her face against his chest, inhaling his scent as he held her close.
She wondered, briefly, what someone would think if they had walked in on them.
Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy: Asleep and In Love?
That's probably what the journal title would be the next day, followed by a massive picture of the two of them sleeping.
It took her a while, a total of five minutes, before she dared open her eyes and look at the man holding her. Through her lashes, she saw his relaxed face, lips slightly parted with each breath, eyes shut, dark lashes just barely long enough to touch his cheeks.
Without any thought, any consideration towards him, she reached up and gently traced the outline of his lips.
He was so beautiful. Of course, she could never say that exact word to him, lest his ego be wounded and his pride be notched; she would have to call him sexy or hot. Maybe handsome would do...
Sighing softly, she smiled up at him and unconsciously snuggled closer to his body. She could lie here all day, without any worries or anxieties. She could spend all day in his arms...
Eyes shuttering, she wondered dimly if this was because they were meant for each other or if he just felt good; he was the first man to ever wrap his arms around her and hold her as she slept. Not even Harry had dared console her in this way when Ron had left them when they were seventeen.
Nobody had ever held her in this way before and it made her feel - for lack of a better word - special. She felt loved and knew that she didn't have to do anything in return for it.
Burrowing her head against his side, she let out a sigh of contentment.
The sound of a throat clearing caused her head to lift and eyes to meet half-opened, groggy, silver ones.
"Morning," she said softly, smiling against his chest.
Under normal circumstances, she would be terrified that he regretted ever even touching her, even though they had done nothing remotely sexual. She would put up her wall and be ready to fight back with tooth and nail for her modesty and pride. But the look in his eyes, the tender, smooth flow of the silver that glimmered in the faint morning light, it pushed through her walls with ease and caressed her heart to the point that warm contentment filled her body.
He didn't regret a thing...
He reached up and ran a hand through her unruly curls, grimacing slightly as his fingers got caught in a particularly difficult knot. Grinning as she winced, he pulled his hand out and kept his hand firmly but gently pressed on her head.
"Good morning," he replied quietly. "Did you sleep well?"
Oh Gods, he was so thoughtful, she sighed inwardly. Although she had already fallen hard for him, she felt herself falling all over again, head over heels, to landing a heaping pile of infatuation and love.
Goodness, she sounded like such a sap...but it was worth it. She wanted to feel this good for the rest of her life.
"I did, thank you. And you?" she asked, wishing that she could always feel this comfortable and secure.
"Pretty well," he replied with a shrug, sniffling slightly. He suddenly grimaced and brought a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. "My head hurts."
Lifting a hand, she managed to ruffle his hair without changing their position. "You're congested; it puts a lot of pressure on your sinuses and causes headaches. Don't worry; Madame Pomfrey should have the potion done by the end of the day; I'll go get it at around five."
"You're not making me go and get it?" he asked, his tone of voice clearly indicating astonishment.
She grinned up at him, resisting the sudden urge to pinch his side; he's probably only complain and exaggerate the pain caused by the pinch. "It's more for me than for you, in end. Once you take it, you will stop all of that whining I had to endure yesterday."
He fought of the impulse to stick his tongue out at her and decided to pout instead. "Malfoys do not whine."
When, however, she met his sentence word for word, each syllable laced with annoyance and sarcasm, the blond's pout turned into an irked grimace, which only deepened when she added, "You said that a good hundred dozen times yesterday, right after you whined about how 'Malfoys don't get colds.' Honestly, it gets a little tiring and repetitive."
He tugged lightly on her hair. "And you're know-it-all attitude doesn't get annoying?"
She shifted suddenly, sitting back. However, as she moved with the intent to sit up and gain the upper hand on their argument, she slipped and her elbow met a particularly soft region of Draco's body.
Draco loudly hissed out a rather crude expletive and instantly hunched over, one hand reaching down to press against the spot Hermione had just brutally pushed down on.
"Draco," she gasped, reaching out to grab him, "are you okay? What's the matter?"
He swiped at her hands, pushing her away; wanting absolutely no contact with her while he fought back the waves of pain radiating from his groin. "Don't....touch...." he hissed through gritted teeth.
"Oh, what did I do? Are you...I'm sorry....I...." she stammered, coming to a sudden halt when she realized just what she had done. Her face flooded with crimson and her hands found themselves moving and waving about on their own accord. "Oh my...I didn't even realize...Oh...oh dear...I actually...touched it?"
"You crushed it!" he growled, relieved when the pain finally began to ease up. It didn't help that she was so near to him, so adorable with her unruly hair and flushed face, full lips parted and moving, forming several 'O's.
He wanted to kiss her so badly, but the single thought of it caused his balls to tighten, which resulted in more pain.
"Fuck," he gasped, putting a touch more pressure on him, trying his hardest to ease the pain as fast as possible.
"Do you need anything? Ice? Painkillers? A hot pad? Anything that might help alleviate the pain?" she asked, sincere concern filling her voice as her eyes softened with regret for her actions.
"No...no....I'm fine," he managed to say without sounding angry or in agony. "Just give me another second or two and I'll be okay."
"Are you...putting pressure on it?" she asked, eyes darting just slightly down to look at his clenched fist.
"Yes," he replied. "It helps a bit."
"Do you want me to put pressure on it?" she blurted without a second's thought.
'Oh Gods, that would be wonderful...her hands wrapped around my cock...teasing my balls...Fuck! Why is it that everything someone hits me in the balls, there is someone around that turns me on?'
"No!" he cried. "No...it's not that I don't want you to...you know...touch me down there..." he added at the look of dismay on her face. "But I just...it's...you're not thinking straight and I would...It's just a bad idea, okay? A very bad idea if you plan on keeping your virginity intact for a while longer."
"I...I don't...Oh...OH!" she gasped, face burning as she realized just what she had said. She couldn't believe that she had offered to do such a thing! What in the world had she been thinking? Had she been half asleep at that time? Had she been too flabbergasted at the idea of a single body part of hers touching his crotch, that she hadn't thought over her words before saying them?
At least...at least he was still a gentleman. He hadn't taken advantage of her sudden naivety, hadn't used it as an excuse to feel her up; he had been honest and had refused her blindly made offer.
Her heart did a little flip; she was definitely falling deeper in love with him with every passing second. The way he had stammered his words, the way his cheeks had coloured with embarrassment and arousal, the way she watched his chest expand as his breath suddenly hitched...it heated her body and made her heart soar.
Hermione Granger was in love with Draco Malfoy and everything the blond did only made her love him more.
She was most definitely screwed.
"Can...can I do anything to help?" she had to ask; she felt simply horrible that she had caused him such pain.
"It'd be nice if you went away for a bit."
Her face flushed with fury at his words, mouth opening wide with shock and annoyance while her hands clenched into tight fists.
How dare he? She had been offering to help him in any way she could, all the while embarrassing herself in the process, and all he could do was tell her to go away? Well...
"Oh....I never!" she snapped. "You bloody prat! Here I am, offering to help you, making a bloody fool out of myself in the process, and all you can do is just tell me to go away!? And, you say it in that bloody dismissing tone of voice, treating me like some...some...House Elf! You prick! Well, you know what, next time you're in pain, don't expect Hermione Granger to come running along to help you out." She stood up, eyes flashing with wrath, mouth curled into a scowl of rage. "You can go..."
"Hermione," Draco quickly interjected, "it's not what it sounds like. I didn't mean to make it sound like that at all; in fact, I would rather say the complete opposite."
Crossing her arms firmly under her breasts, she glared down at him. "Oh really? Please, do explain before I slap you."
"Hermione!" he cried, oblivious to the fact that the pain was now completely fading away from his groin. "I would rather have you right here beside me if I could, but I can't possibly have you near me when...well, I've been hit in the crotch."
"And why is that? Does my being near you make it hurt even more?"
"Yes!"
Her body began to shake with embarrassment and rage, fists thrown down to her sides as she fought back every wave of fury that threatened to overwhelm her. That...that heartless bastard. She gave him so much, showed him so much, and all he did was repay her kindness and love with cruel words. How dare he?
"How dare you!" she shouted, raising her hand with the intent of slapping him smartly on the cheek. "You...you git! What in the world have I ever done to you? All I did was offer to help you and you have the gall to say that I would only cause you more pain! You son of a..."
"It's because you turn me on!" he shouted, unable to take her words any longer. Lunging to his feet, all thoughts about his headache and recently injured male pride gone. His complete focus was directed on the furious brunette standing in front of him. "It's because every time I'm around you, every time you just get close enough for me to see you, I get aroused. You turn me on, Hermione; you fucking arouse me to the point that I can't think straight. Your smell, your touch, your voice, everything about you turns me on. And...and it just gets worse if I get hit in the balls! I mean, well...when I get aroused, they...well, everything tightens, and it causes me more pain if I had just been hit down there. But that's...that's got nothing to do with this anymore." He reached forward, grasping her wrists, pulling her so that her head was pressed almost completely under his chin. "Hermione Granger, you arouse me like no other woman has. You make me lose control."
The wave of shock that rippled through her body shook her to her very core. His words held no hint, not one suggestion, that he was lying to her, and his body language clearly agreed with every spoken syllable. Yet, she still couldn't believe that Draco Malfoy had just admitted to her that she turned him on. She, Hermione Granger, was the only woman to every make Draco Malfoy almost lose control with lust and need.
The thought of him growing hard, his whole body tightening with arousal, every time she was around him, was more than enough to make her womb clench and liquid heat to drip between her thighs. Her body began to burn with a fever so hot that she feared she might not be able to stay clothed for much longer.
She hadn't expected such a physical reaction on her part, let alone his shocking revelation, and she was most definitely not prepared for the way her senses caught fire with arousal at his confession. She wanted to touch him, to be skin on skin with him, to let him touch her until she screamed and burned with arousal.
She should have been shocked, perhaps even infuriated and disgusted; she should not have been aroused by this.
And yet, she was...she was very aroused.
He suddenly spun away from her, rubbing his face furiously with his hands as he cursed himself for admitting such a thing. She would certainly want nothing to do with him after this.
'Draco, you bloody idiot, you just had to go ahead and ruin everything, didn't you?' he admonished himself, mentally beating himself senseless.
"Hermione," he began, nearly choking out the words. He felt little such an idiot; what in the world made him think that she would like hearing how she made him horny as hell? "I...I'm..."
"Draco," she said softly, her voice sounding strangely close; it was almost as though she were whispering the words into his ear.
"Look, Hermione," he quickly began, unable to take the tension any longer. He had to apologize for being a witless prat and then he would go down to see Madame Pomfrey himself around the damn potion. He would hide from her for the next few days, hide in the library, only come out of his room when she wasn't around...he wouldn't be able to face her and the disgust she would wear on her face.
"Hermione, I'm sorry...I didn't mean for any of that to come out." He chanced a glance in her direction and saw the warring emotions in her eyes. "I mean, well...I did mean the words, but I didn't really intend to say them to you...I mean, well...oh fucking hell. Hermione, I'm sorry for being such a prat," he concluded, adding a moan of frustration as he saw the confusion in her eyes.
'Oh Gods, I'm such an idiot at times. Honestly, I'm supposed to have a way with women, not make a fool out of myself whenever I'm around them. But Hermione...she's different...she makes me feel different...But it's not excuse to act like such a prat,' he moaned inwardly.
He was shocked when he felt her smaller hands wrap around his wrists, and it only increased when she lowered his hands from his face - they had made their way up there once more after he had looked at her. Gently, she cupped his cheek with one hand, sliding the other around to the back of his head, twining her fingers around his silken locks.
"Draco...I have to admit," she murmured, tugging his head down until nary a breath stood between their lips, "and I've never admitted this to anyone before...I think you...you arouse me, too."
He barely had time to register the shock when her lips pressed against his. Then, his senses went wild. Her taste was divine, her lips so unbelievably soft, moving and gliding under his, sliding against his mouth with mounting fervor. He groaned against her lips, wrapping his arms tightly around her body, hugging her to him as he opened his mouth with the intent of devouring her.
As his tongue snaked past her lips, moving in to dance with hers in a timeless mating ritual, his hands slid in opposite directions; one tangling itself in her hair while the other dared to rest upon her buttocks, pressing her hips harder against his.
It was when a little moan escaped her mouth that one chain of control snapped. Growling against her lips, he kissed her like a man starved, yanking her harder against him, needing to feel every little part of her pressed against his body. He tugged on her hair, pulling her towards him as he angled and stepped back to sit on the couch.
Without breaking their kiss, she clambered on top of him, straddling her waist, positioning herself in a way she had never done before in her entire life. Under normal circumstances within a normal relationship, she would be worried beyond belief as to what may happen at the end of this scenario. However, at this moment in time, all she could think about was having his skin pressed against hers.
It was her hands that dared touch flesh first, hers that slid up his shirt to tease his abs, finding every crease, every little line to be just as arousing as the last and the next. She raked her nails up his torso until her hands lifted his shirt and her fingers dug into his bare shoulders.
He tore his lips from hers with a snarl, yanking on her hair until the smooth, creamy line of her throat was exposed to his lips. He devoured her neck, biting and licking, suckling and torturously teasing the flesh until she cried out from pleasure. He latched onto a sweet spot just by her jugular, tracing circles with his tongue as he sucked on her skin.
Her hips bucked wildly against his, shockwaves of desire rippling through her as, through the cotton material of her pajama bottoms, she felt his burning arousal press against her aching core.
"Oh...Draco," she moaned, moving one hand to bury itself in his hair, pressing his mouth harder against her throat.
"Move your hips again," he growled, licking his way up to tease her lobe between his teeth. Her hips undulated a second time, the length of his arousal sliding along her center, and he swore he could feel her wetness through the material of his pants and boxers. "Yes...yes...like that," he groaned, suckling on her lobe.
She gasped loudly, whimpering his name as she tried, in vain, to tear off his shirt. She had to feel his hot flesh, needed to feel every ounce of him pressed against hers, naked body against naked body, flesh on flesh, until her body exploded from the burning arousal.
"Shirt," she panted, tugging on his shirt for emphasis. "Off...now."
"You don't waste time, do you?" he whispered, latching onto the sweet spot behind her ear, earning a cry of pleasure in return.
"Please," she moaned, pressing her body against his, breasts plastered against his chest.
"Fine," he growled, taking only a second to break away from the kiss and yank of the shirt before crushing his lips against hers.
She moaned in triumph against his mouth, raking her nails all over his skin, touching every ounce of flesh she could now that the obstacle was out of the way. She had to feel every bit of him, needing to feel his flesh pressed against hers as she screamed his name in passion.
Before she even knew or realized what was going on, her shirt found its way to the floor and her lips found themselves latched onto his throat. He snarled out an incomprehensible expletive and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her down upon his arousal as she found every little hot spot along his neck.
She bit her way along his jaw, finding the small amount of stubble there to be the most arousing thing in the world. She slid her tongue down the front of his throat, teasing his Adam's apple until he groaned with desire, hands convulsing on her hips. She bit and teased his throat the same way he had done to hers, unable to get enough of the taste of his skin.
Salty and sweet, she was dimly aware of her mind comparing him to a chocolate covered pretzel before she latched onto the flesh between his throat and collarbone.
He let out a shout of shock and arousal; no woman had ever bit him in such a place and it was the most exquisite pleasure he had ever felt in his life. Her lips suckling on his flesh, roughly bruising him as she dragged her fingers and nails down his chest; it was the most pleasurable thing he had ever experienced.
He could feel her breasts straining against the bra, while small, they were managed to be full and perky at the same time, the creamy flesh just barely touching his skin with every movement.
He groaned as he felt her nipples pressing through the cotton material, rubbing against his chest as her hips undulated against his.
"Fuck...Hermione," he groaned, sliding a hand along her spine, reveling in the feel of her body convulsing as it became covered with gooseflesh. She moaned out his name against his throat, shuddering violently in his arms as he traced his fingers along her back.
He reached the clasp of her bra and undid it with a quick movement; it was a simple enough clasp and he had been tortured with worst forms of blockades or clasps before.
She let out a gasp of surprise, eyes widening with shock as he slid the straps down her shoulders, leaving only the cups hanging on her breasts. Instead of removing them, he traced his fingers over the exposed skin, running his hands along the cotton cups, massaging her through the bra. He firmly pressed the heel of his palm against the center of each breast, rubbing roughly, causing her nipples to tighten and a moan to escape her lips.
"Oh my," she whimpered as bolts of electricity rushed down her body to pool at her core. Never before had she felt so hot, so needed, so aroused. Her body was on fire, burning from the inside out, and the feel of his hands on her breasts only fueled the flame. She writhed under his touch, unable to get enough of it, needing more with every passing second.
She was the one who threw off the bra, it was her hands that guided his to her breasts, wrapping his fingers around her sensitive mounds as she rocked against his hips.
He groaned out her name in response, tightening his grip on her flesh, rubbing and kneading the mounds until she cried out. He tugged on her nipples, pinching and playing with them until she couldn't stand it any longer.
Her hips bucked wildly against his, fighting to find some sense of relief from the swamping, all-consuming need that coursed through her. She felt his hard length through their pajama bottoms, felt her slick pussy sliding up and down it as she sought release. She needed to find the right angle...she...
She nearly screamed when his mouth closed around her pert nipple, tongue and teeth moving in such a way that made her entire body clench violently. Her hips slammed down against his, an incredibly arousing sensation rocking her body as his arousal met one particularly sensitive spot on her body.
"Draco...oh Draco," she cried, twining her fingers in his hair, pressing his mouth harder against her breasts, needing to feel the warm wetness of his mouth on her nipples, to feel the roughness of his teeth as they pinched them. "Don't...don't stop..."
He suckled on her breasts like a starved man; he teased and suckled them until she finally screamed out his name, hips moving viciously against his.
"That's it," he growled savagely, "grind your fucking hips, moving your pussy on my cock."
The words, which would normally disgust and turn her off, increased her arousal to the point that her movements became erratic and wild. She slammed her hips down, rubbing furiously against him, feeling her body heat up, heart hammering wildly as her womb began to clench tightly.
"Oh...Oh...Oh," she cried with shock as waves rippled through her body, her womb clenching and unclenching rhythmically, liquid gushing from between her thighs as her body shuddered with pleasure. The release washed over and consumed her, blinding her until all she felt and knew was pleasure.
Suddenly, she found herself panting in his arms, gasping loudly for air as her held her against his sweat-slicked torso. She could hear him, just barely able to discern the sound coming from his lips.
He was chuckling softly, pressing gentle kisses to her cheeks and brow, running his fingers up and down her back in the most erotic way imaginable.
"What...what are you laughing at?" she gasped, unable to bring herself to open her eyes; she almost feared what she might see. The arousal was already fading away into pure shock, directed mostly towards herself and her actions.
"I'll say...I've never made a woman come by just playing with her breasts," he replied, the sentence ending on another chuckle as she blushed darkly in his arms. He knew that if her eyes were open, he would see regret and guilt, self-disappointment and shame glowing in the amber orbs. "It's not bad at all, Hermione. I'll admit; it's quite the turn on."
This time, her eyes opened to meet his. Burning amber met smoldering silver in a fiery gaze that was only broken with regret and embarrassment.
"I...I'm sorry...I think this might have been a mistake," she said softly, unable to look down at their forms, twined intimately around one another.
He arched a brow in question, reaching up to push a stray curl from her cheek. "Why?"
"Well...I....first off, you might get the wrong impression," she stammered. "I'm not like this...I don't just...throw myself into a man's arms and...well...I was overwhelmed...I just couldn't fight it and...Oh, I feel so embarrassed," she cried, burying her face in her hands. "You must think that I'm just some slag looking for a way to get off."
Draco frowned at her, reaching forward to gently pull her hands away from her face. He noticed that she shifted her arms, trying her hardest to cover her breasts while he still held her wrists.
"Hermione, you're not a slag," Draco snapped, eyes flashing with anger. "Don't you ever dare call yourself that ever again or I'm afraid I won't be able to control my actions."
"But...but I do!" she cried, eyes shining with the threat of tears, both from guilt and shame at her actions, as well as joy caused by Draco's response. "I've never done anything like this and...well...I barely know you and here I am, shirt off, doing all of...of...this! I feel so dirty," she moaned, tossing her hands back up to cover her face once more.
Instead of reaching to uncover her face, Draco let his hands run gently along her hair, trying any action that might seem to be soothing for the brunette. He wasn't entirely sure what had exactly brought on these sudden feelings for Hermione, but he did understand that she held a sense of modesty that no woman in these days held. He understood that what they had done, even though it was far from an actual sexual experience, was something new and forbidden, something that made her feel dirty and foul.
In her mind, she was no longer modest but along the same levels as the girls her age who fucked for pleasure and nothing more.
"I know that this experience may be...shocking for you. But, you have to know that what you have done is something truly remarkable," he murmured, playing with her curls. He felt her body tense in reaction, knew what words waited to be spoken from her lips, and he continued before she had a chance to even consider the wording for her sentence. "For the first time in your life, you truly let go of everything and allowed your instincts to take over. You always think logically, always try to find an intelligent solution to everything, but sometimes the answer isn't logical. It isn't always intelligent, and no amount of reading or research will be able to tell you that. You have to sometimes follow your instincts and let human nature take over. That...that is what you have done." He tugged her hands down to press soft kisses on her eyelids. "You're not a whore, Hermione; you're a brilliant witch who thinks a little too much sometimes."
Her eyes slowly reopened, glittering with unshed tears, lips trembling just slightly against the tips of her fingers. She understood what he said, knew what he meant in reference to human nature and instinct, and yet, she still couldn't help but feeling extremely exposed and disgusting.
She found herself nodding to his words as she groped for her shirt, tugging it quickly over her head as her mind was torn in half, one part telling her that he was right, the other reminding her of how promiscuous she had just been. She felt so dirty.
"I...I suppose that you're right," she admitted quietly, lowering her eyes to look at his bellybutton; she couldn't dare look at her silver gaze right now; it would be the end of her. "You make some sense, I suppose, but I...I like to think. Following your instincts isn't always the logical, proper solution to everything. I don't like letting something control and force me to do something that I wouldn't normally do."
His eyes hardened, steel flashing in the light as his body tensed. "Did it really feel forced? Was your whole body tense and unwilling, or did you actually, willingly, enjoy it? Did you really have to force yourself to touch me?" She heard the spite in his voice, the pain that just threaded through the thick tone.
Was there more to Draco than his charismatic, chauvinistic attitude? Did he really get what he wanted all of the time?
Had she really been forced to kiss him or had she done it of her own free will?
The answer to that was simple and complicated at the same time.
Exhaling softly, she lifted her eyes to focus her gaze on his. "I didn't force myself to do anything," she replied quietly. "I just don't care for the way my mind just shuts down when..." She cut off abruptly, afraid of what might have come out of her mouth if she had dared to finish the sentence.
"When what, Hermione?" he asked, the faint outline of a knowing grin just barely perceptible on his face. It was as though he knew exactly what thoughts were going through her mind, as though he already knew the answer just wanted her to say it anyways.
Suddenly, she leapt off of him, nearly hitting the coffee table in the process, moving to give enough distance between them so that he would not be able to reach out and grab her. She had almost blurted out one of the most intimate thoughts she had ever had. She couldn't let him know, wouldn't dare even whisper the truth of her thoughts to him. He could use it against her, blackmail, spread rumours, or he could take it and break her with it.
That was what most men did nowadays, she glumly reminded herself, thinking of Harry and Ron. They pretended to care, pretended to love, and only used her for themselves, as though she were some object to lie to and use.
Even though she considered what was between her and Draco to be almost sacred, their relationship growing more and more intimate by the day, the distrust and fear pulled her back. Besides, she reminded herself, she hadn't even had the chance to go over the various scenarios. She had to think before she spoke, had to look over all of the facts before she dared venture forward.
She had to know for sure...
"Hermione?"
Jerked from her reveries by the sound of her name, she glanced quickly in his direction. Her heart instantly panged with guilt; he sat on the couch, looking rather bewildered and out of place. His hair was an unnatural mess, chest glistening faintly with sweat as dark, red lines throbbed and glowed out of place against the pale skin. A flush coated her cheeks as she noted that they were her claw marks, that she put the bruise on his neck, that she was the reason he had been so worked up mere moments ago.
The way his grey eyes watched her, openly yearned for her, the way they caressed over her body in a manner that was more than loving than sexual, nearly made her cave right there and then. But she couldn't; she refused to do anything until she knew everything.
Until she knew what the right choice would be...
"I...I'm going to get dressed. I won't be long," she hastily muttered, diverting her gaze as she moved quickly towards the stairs.
She just saw him watch her, noted the way his eyes paled and then darkened, hardening in the soft, morning's light. She knew he was feeling rejected, he felt hurt and untrustworthy; he had just opened his heart to her, admitting that her very scent, her very thought, aroused his senses to almost uncontrollable levels. And she ran away the second it came to her exposing her secrets.
Reaching her bedroom door, she quickly opened it, barely glancing in before turning to close it. She just barely registered the faint whooshing sound of the fire being suddenly brought to life.
Turning back around, she shut her eyes and leaned against the door, wishing that the process of falling for someone could be a lot easier on the mind and body.
A peculiar sound had her lifting her head and opening her eyes. Her sight fell on the tall figure standing in the middle of the room.
She did the first thing she could.
She screamed.