october 19, 1996
Late that night, Hermione sat perfectly still in her bed with her Ancient Runes book propped in her lap. The brown haired girl was the only one in her dormitory left awake, reading in her wand light. She sighed, pushing the book into her covers as she let herself sink backwards into the pillows in a very frustrated manner. It was too late to be consumed with so much confusion and stress.
Her brown hair fanned out around her and those deep brown eyes travelled around the room, searching for answers. Everything, aside from what was right next to her wand, was dim and answerless. She sat up again, closing the massive textbook. She slid off of her white covers, bare feet hitting the cold floor beneath. She hauled her textbook over to the small overflowing bookshelf to the left of her wardrobe. She set the book in its place, regretful that reading had not helped ease her mind. She began to turn, but before she would take another step, something caught her eye.
A corner of the Marauders Map was just barely sticking out of her Arithmancy textbook. Slow and curiously, she approached the book shelf again. She carefully pulled the parchment from it's hiding spot, flipping the corners of the paper in her fingers as she trailed back to her bed. She borrowed the map from Harry for learning purposes, of course, she wanted a better look at the secret passage ways throughout the castle. But now, late at night, different thoughts had crept into her mind.
She wondered where Harry was, if he had finished his lesson with Dumbledore and what they had done tonight. She wondered what Snape was up to; was he throwing more students out of his office? Most of all, she wondered what Draco was doing.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
She touched her wand, still illuminated, to the rough parchment. As the words left her mouth, black ink began to crawl over the tattered page. Corridors and classrooms formed, followed by common rooms and the great hall.
The Slytherin common room was the first to catch her eye. She studied the common space and the stairs up the the dormitories. Hermione pictured Harry's father and friends, under his invisibility cloak, sneaking into each house to map their common rooms. The thought made Hermione smile. Six floors above Slytherin, a pair of foot prints were drawing across the map.
The name itself, scrawled in dark ink with penmanship the distantly resembled Harry's, was enough to bring a blush to Hermione's cheeks. Draco Malfoy. He was wandering through the seventh floor corridors, walking away from the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione's heart beat faster.
As if she was compelled to him, she slipped away from her covers once more. She tucked her toes into the night slippers that sat under her bed and took off down the staircase with only her wand and the map. She was dressed in a thin white long sleeve top and old grey pyjama bottoms that hung off her body and were a bit too long.
When Hermione landed in the common room, she glanced down at the map. Draco had moved even further away, down a separate corridor. The girl could tell, by his foot prints on the map, that he was moving quickly. She pictured his long legs taking long strides and wondered where those legs were taking him.
The entrance to Gryffindor opened and, without a second thought, she left the warm red glow of her common room and entered the silent corridor. The entirety of Hogwarts was darker than the night. The darkness enveloped Hermione, so thick and unknown that it threatened to swallow her wand light and leave her alone, in the dark. She let out a breath, glancing down at the map. Draco was walking slower now, clinging closely to one of the corridor walls. He was a good distance away from her, including a left down the hall and a right turn into the side corridor.
She began following his path, walking briskly yet shyly. She kept her wand light tucked into her chest, frequently glancing down that the ever-changing map. Paintings along the walls sent Hermione glares, telling her to turn her wand light off.
She rounded a corner, turning to the left. She glanced down again, noticing that Draco hadn't moved his place on the map. She followed the dark corridor, the sound of her feet padding against the stone floors sounded eerie in the dark. She approached the final turn, knowing that Draco should be just around the corner. Her heart beat against her chest, threatening to beat through her thin night shirt.
Her eyes looked down at the map once more. Her lips split open, a quiet gasp falling out of her.
Draco was gone.
The place where his name just rested on the map was now empty, as was the corridor. She scanned the parchment, searching for his name in ink, but he had truly disappeared.
Hermione stared at the wall before her. After a moment, it was unmistakably familiar. Draco had gone into the Room of Requirement. She didn't give it another thought before she paced across the length of the wall, three times, thinking only that she needed to be inside, and watched as the metal door fabricated itself before her. She pushed the door in, waiting to see Draco standing in the archway, but the room was completely darkened.
Hermione relit her wand, without a word, and shuffled her feet against the stone floor.
She'd only taken one small step when a string of lights rose from just in front of her. Balls of warm light travelled through the room, to broken chandeliers which spotted the tall ceilings and awkward street lamps which randomly scattered through the piles of lost things.
Her eyes landed on the spellcaster immediately, with his blonde hair and fair pale skin.
"You followed me."
"I'm the prefect, you know. Students out of bed, on my floor, strictly not allowed. Your lucky I decided to come talk without myself instead of calling for Filch."
"Your night things..." His voice was slow, almost time warping, "they're cute." She was dressed up in a thin tee shirt and flannel pants that were probably quite old. A grin spread across his own face as he watched her slight blush. He enjoyed seeing her flustered and, even better, he liked knowing that he could do such a thing to such a girl.
"I'd say the same..." The Gryffindor's voice was tired, but still sounded like warmth and clouds to Draco, "But every time I see you you're dressed for a funeral." Her hand raised, gesturing to him. He was clad in a black blazer, black pants, and thin black tie with a Slytherin pin clipped in the mid.
Draco was still taking small steps towards her now, his wand still in his hand at his side. He narrowed her eyes, still inspecting her. Ringlet brown curls hung around her face and she looked as if she was surprised to see him, even though it was obvious that he'd been followed.
"What have you got there?" He asked, gesturing to her hand. She glanced down as if she had realized what he meant. Draco watched as she pushed the parchment into a pocket.
"Scrap parchment," She told him with a solid voice. Draco knew she was lying, but it was far too late to pick fights.
"Is that how you followed me, then?" He stopped his advance, taking in her sight. Her thin white top clung to her slender curves while her bottoms looked so large that they threatened to fall off.
"When is it your turn to answer my questions?"
He didn't say a word.
"What are you doing up here? Why did you come looking for the Room of Requirement?"
The space was the size of a large cathedral, bigger than any other room Draco has seen at Hogwarts. The area, however, was crowded with discarded things. Great towers comprised of hidden objects filled the room to its ceiling.
Among the shelves there were thousands and thousands of books, Fanged Frisbees, chipped bottles of congealed potions that smelt something awful, hats and jewels and cloaks, corked bottles whose contents still shimmered evilly, several rusting swords, and that was only the begin of what was contained in this room.
"The Room of Hidden Things, actually." Draco told Hermione. "It's beautiful, don't you think?"
After the Gryffindor had caught him coming up the main staircases, just two days ago, Draco had wondered if she'd come looking for him here. He'd already planned how he would go to any lengths to distract her, keep her away from the Vanishing Cabinet that was not too far from where they stood now. Draco had already memorized the thin path which led from the entrance to the tall wooded cabinet.
Hermione didn't seem to hear him, or didn't seem to care. "You weren't on the trip to Hogsmeade today," she pointed out, as if he hadn't known this. "Did you hear about the incident?"
Draco's stomach dropped. For the hundredth time that evening, he had to fight the burn at the back of his nose that threatened to bring on tears. He nodded, averting his eyes enough so that she wouldn't see his falter.
She stood still and small, almost as if she was not breathing.
"I heard," He admitted with a small sigh. "I was in detention. McGonagall's punishment for not having done my Transfiguration assignments." He wasn't sure why he felt the need to explain this to her, it wasn't like she'd accused him. This wasn't the first lie that he had told the Gryffindor girl and, he was sure of it, this wouldn't be the last.
Hermione's held tilted curiously and her lips parted. He slowly approached her, taking small steps.
"Draco," She hesitated. "You've been best at Transfiguration in our year since we were eleven."
It was true. Draco had a knack for transfiguration that, no matter how hard she tried, Hermione could not achieve.
"Second best at everything else, though." Insinuation was clear in Draco's voice as he closed the distance between himself and the girl. "Clever girl." His voice was low and steady, almost hypnotic.
"I don't feel very clever," Hermione's eyes fell to the floor, but darted back to him. "You've confused me. Thrown me, completely."
"I don't know what to tell you, Gryffindor. What is it that you followed me here for?" His voice had quickly gone from steady to assertive. Always defending himself, always fighting.
"What is it that you kissed me for, then, Slytherin? Everything about this situation is inherently confusing. I am absolutely furious with myself for kissing you, and even more outraged that I liked it so much."
He was intrigued to know that she would fight back. She matched his aggression in a way that was upfront and factual, almost the opposite of himself.
"Now I've caught you sneaking around the castle on multiple occasions. I watched Snape throw you out of his office. I've dueled you and kissed you and dreamt of you. And I have nothing else to admit to except for how you've confused me so much. You've perplexed me and I hate that. Just last year you were a prefect, teacher's pet, a Seeker, getting the topmost grades in Transfiguration, even one of the top scholars in our year. You were the last person who would even kiss someone like me."
Draco watched her closely, but couldn't decipher if she was referring to her house or her her bloodline. Either made his head ache.
"You give me too much credit, Gryffindor," Draco told her, slipping his wand down into his pocket. "I don't want to be any of those things. They are minuscule and unimportant."
"Why would you say that?" She asked with a breath, her tone filled with sorrow.
"For-fucks-sake, Gryffindor, what did you come here for? If you tell me you stalked me here so we could talk about our feelings and life-goals, I'd sooner walk back down seven flights of stairs. If you can put your emotions aside and tell me something actually worth my while, I'm all ears." Draco's tone was mesmerizing, again, and the low sounds of his voice filled Hermione's insides with butterflies. His words were condescending, as they usually were.
This was how he liked it. Always sorting for the upper hand. He needed to feel superior to her and, she wasn't even sure why, but she liked it. She enjoyed the feeling of yielding to his touch, his words, and those pale gray eyes. She liked that he told her what to do and the way he cursed beneath.
"Fine," She bit, and stared as he closed the distance between them, "I followed you here because I haven't gotten the feeling of your hands beneath my shirt out of my head and it's driving me insane."
Draco was grinning now, his fine pink lips raising just enough to give him a whole new profile. His cheeks were sunken and, for just a moment, she wondered when the last time he got a good night's sleep was. His eyes were set deep and his dark lashes blinked in slow motion, as if he were studying her.
"Good," He hummed, contently. When she was sure he was about the reach for her, he sunk to his knees on the stone floor. Her breath caught in her throat when his cold finger slipped beneath the hem of her tee-shirt and, even through the thin fabric, she could feel his warm breath just above her belly button.
"Tell me what you want, Gryffindor."
There was that voice of silk again, and her knees threatened to expose her right there.
"I want you..." She breathed out, setting her right hand on the back of his blonde head.
Her eyes closed when his lips met the skin just above her left hip. With his lips still against her, he murmured "More specific."
"What do you want me to say, Draco?" She asked, almost embarrassed in the way her voice came out in a plead. She laced her fingers into his blonde hair tighter.
She watched him as his hands pushed her shirt further up her body, exposing her hips, waist, and all of her stomach. He kissed from her waist to her hip, painfully slowly, stopping at the hem of her pyjamas.
"I want to hear you say my name..." Another wet kiss, thumb pulling the waistband down the skin just beneath her hip. "Want to hear you say yes and please.... Exactly what you want. How much. How hard...." He kissed her between every line.
"Please, Draco."