False Pretense

Hermione was pacing a long trench outside of Draco’s quarters. She had left during dinner but spent the past half hour talking herself down from an anxiety attack. Just knock on the door and apologize for being pompous, her mind said in a motherly, almost scolding nature. Twisting her hands slightly, Hermione rounded on the door and lifted her fist to knock.

The door opened instantly, nearly knocking her back with surprise.

“I was wondering when you would get the nerve to knock,” Draco said from the doorway, leaning his forearm against the threshold.

Hermione parted her lips to speak, but found Draco already explaining how he knew she was out there.

“You make a lot of noise when you’re pacing,” he shrugged, holding the door open, “Want to come in, or are you afraid I might take advantage of you?”

Closing her eyes, Hermione took a breath and stepped into his room. She hadn’t taken much time to look over the small living area while being carried to the infirmary earlier that day but from what she saw it was rather quaint. Nothing at all gaudy but still filled with an air of wealth.

It was dark inside. Candles floated around the room but with a low hum of flickering flames that cast shadows over a dragon hide chair. It caught her attention. A book sat at the edge of the chair’s arm with a bottle of wine sitting on a small table next to the chair. Draco scratched his hair, already ruffled up from earlier that day and moved past her.

“I’d ask you to sit down but you probably wouldn’t,” he said softly, waving at a chair beside the other.

He was right in that sense. She wouldn’t have sat down, even if there were a thousand people in the room. The tension was heavy, but she had a feeling that it had to do more with herself than with him. Draco, to his benefit, looked completely at ease inside his room; just as he had in every position or situation he was placed in.

Stupid Draco.

Draco stared at her, apparently their silence was getting to an awkward point. Looking at him, Hermione came up with a quick excuse; which wasn’t much of an excuse.

“I…have papers to grade,” Hermione explained, taking a breath, “But, I just wanted to say…I wanted to say…”

“Yeah?” Draco asked with a quirked eyebrow, “Spit it out Granger.”

He sure did know how to get on her nerves when she was sucking up her pride to apologize.

Sneering, Hermione hurried her reply, “I’m sorry for accusing you of taking advantage of me.”

She sighed, Ok, so that wasn’t too bad. Looking up from her lashes, Hermione stared at Draco and frowned when he began laughing. She replayed her sentence in her mind and found absolutely nothing of humor inside it. He found everything funny, didn’t he? Stiffening slightly, Hermione quirked an eyebrow and cleared her throat.

“What’s so funny?” she asked a little angrily.

Draco brought his hands to his knees and grinned.

“Oh, nothing,” he replied with a modest shrug, “Just thought I’d never hear the day where you apologize to me.”

“Ok, well I did and now I’m leaving,” she said, turning to the door.

She had apologized and he laughed. He laughed. So much for being adults in this matter. Although to Hermione’s credit, she hadn’t been much of an adult recently. There was something about Draco had seemed to revert her once prestige, mature nature back to the bumbling teenager she had been; secretly hiding behind her more mature persona.

“Wait, wait,” Draco moved to a stand and gasped lightly onto her elbow, turning her back to face him, “Seeing as you stomped all this way for that sad little sentence…”

“Malfoy,” Hermione growled but he held his hand up and silenced her.

“Why don’t you stay?” He asked quickly, almost in one single breath as fast as he could muster, “That’s what I meant. Why don’t you stay for a bit and we can…oh I don’t know put whatever harsh feelings we have for one another behind us?”

Hermione eyed him and slowly nodded. She could put off grading a few papers; which she had already graded, to put all of this behind her. What was it that Dumbledore had once told her? Inter-house unity starts with a mere hello. Some rubbish like that.

She took a seat across from him in an identical chair and looked around. Draco’s laugh broke her quiet stance, causing her to frown again. What was up with him and his bloody laughing?

“It’s alright to relax,” he said, leaning back into his chair, “I’m not going to eat you, kill you, or anything like that.”

“Some how,” Hermione whispered, “I don’t really believe that.”

He laughed and slowly, very slowly, her lips curved into a laugh of her own. Draco brought his hand to his hair and mussed it up, much like she had seen Harry do whenever he tried to vie for Ginny’s attention. As if messy hair would woo her. But, was he trying to woo her? Or was it a reflex to ease tension and anxiety? Maybe she should stop overanalyzing. It was ‘conductive to her health’ as Ginny had once said.

And that’s what she did. Shut down all barriers for the good of the school. If she could put this behind her then maybe the other Slytherins and Gryffindors could as well. Snort, yeah right.




Ok, so it didn’t go as bad as you thought

Not bad at all. The first few moments were caked up to her knees in silence but soon Draco had begun a conversation about, of all things, the history of trolls. It seemed to have blossomed from there. Of course, they wound up arguing over a few school rules; which Hermione was in favor of, but Draco thought the faculty had become totalitarians and not mentors.

Four bleeding hours of conversation and Hermione found herself unwilling to leave. Draco didn’t bother asking her either, even when his expensive clock chimed four past two in the morning. She finally urged herself to leave after the fiftieth yawn. He walked her to the door, offered to walk her back to her quarters, but she refused politely; for once.

Her hostile nature toward Draco had lessened over the next few weeks, much to the surprise of her fellow professors. She no longer complained to the headmistress about their seating arrangements and often engaged Draco in a conversation; which earned her a grin from Snape.


There was a knock on the door of her empty classroom where she sat looking over a few first year papers. Looking up from her seat, Hermione fought back a smile. Draco stood at the entrance with one arm resting on the threshold.

“Fancy a stroll by the lake?” he asked, shoving one hand into his pocket.

“I have papers to grade, Malfoy,” she said lightly, no longer holding that pretension when she said his last name.

“It can wait, I want to show you something,” Draco insisted, nodding his head back, “Let’s go.”

“Fine,” Hermione groaned, resting her papers onto her desk.

Draco waited for her to shuffle all of her papers into her desk, locking it to prevent any sticky hands from students wary of her grading. He laughed after the sixth ward she placed on her desk and was rewarded with a smug, but kind, sneer.


“Minerva is considering adding a small garden in this area,” Draco had said once they reached the grassy lawns beside the green houses.

“Yes, because students need more places to shack up,” Hermione groaned, having had quite enough catching her students in compromising positions.

“I’m sure you’re the only one who thinks that,” he laughed, pulling his hands from his pockets, “But, I think it’s a brilliant idea.”

“You would,” Hermione smirked, watching Draco chuckle and waggle his eyebrows.

“Over here,” he said lightly, resting a hand on her lower back as he pulled open the doors to the green house.

“What can possibly be found here?” Hermione asked, feeling at ease when Draco kept his hand on her back.

She paused and tilted her head back with a groan, “Of course you would….”

“How else can I get you out of your office?” Draco asked, waving toward a small secluded area.

The green house had been shifted around to hold a small table with two chairs. Sitting on top was a small basket which she could only expect had food. Beside the basket was a bottle of elderberry wine; expensive elderberry wine.

She followed Draco and sat when he held her chair out for her, watching him under her lashes as he sat as well. Draco waved his hand over the basket as the tops lifted and a variety of dishes flew out and landed neatly in front of them.

They laughed, talked, wined and dined for nearly three hours. The light around the green house began to fade, casting an odd greenish hue on everyone. Yet, despite the sickly green color Draco’s skin looked, his eyes shimmered with a beautiful turquoise color.

Draco held his hand out when they finished but paused as the sound of thunder rolled into the green house.

“Shit,” he cursed, coming to rise when suddenly there was a downpour in the green house, “I completely forgot the enchantment.”

Hermione laughed as he instantly tried to cover her as the pair attempted their escape. The ground became a tad bit muddy, causing water to seep into her boots. She needed to invest in a waterproof pair, but how often did she wander in the rain?

They were about to reach the door when Hermione slipped on a root and nearly careened into the ground; if not for Draco’s fast reflexes. He grasped her by the arms and pulled her to his chest, both falling clumsily against the glass. Hermione laughed, followed by Draco, and moved both hands to his chest.

She looked up at him, water running down his angular jaw and hair flattened against his head. He brought a hand to the strands of hair plastered against her face and smoothed them back. Lips parted, Hermione stared into his cobalt eyes, her own lids fluttering to a close when he leaned over.

Their lips touched softly but the explosion of passion seared into her skin. The coldness of the rain beating down on them disappeared completely; replaced with the heat of the kiss. Draco’s hand moved from against the glass and to her jaw, cupping it lightly.

She moaned into his mouth, drinking heavily. Moving ever so slightly, Draco brought Hermione to a soft tuft of evergreen grass; grass that remained dry no matter how wet it got outside. His hand moved under her, grasping at her lower back as he shifted between her legs.

Hermione broke from the kiss, arching her neck as Draco’s lips moved over her throat beading light kisses over her cold skin. Her hands moved to the clasp of his belt as he hiked her skirt up, ignoring how wet the rain had made them. Their clothes were stained against their skin, but they managed to remove enough for the act they had become consumed in.

Fire. Heat. Passion. Hermione moaned as she felt Draco fill her; his length gloved completely inside her. His hand rested against the soft grass as his hips dived upward. Rocking her hips in time, Hermione and Draco moaned in unison with parted lips. The cold surrounding them was forgotten in the heat of passion.

Hermione’s fingers dug lightly into Draco’s back as their bodies moved together. Eyes closed tightly, Hermione let out a breath curdled with his name all while Draco leaned over her, brushing his lips over her. His hand snaked around the back of her head while his other moved to her thigh, gripping tightly onto it.

“Hermione,” he breathed against her, eyes lit with something indescribable.

“Draco,” she cried out, arching her back against him as her body convulsed around him.

He grunted heavily, his body stiffening over her as he spilled his seed into her body. Both let out a sigh in unison and relaxed against the grass. Draco moved to his knees, pulling his trousers up while Hermione smoothed her skirt down. A small smile played across his lips when their eyes met and she found herself blushing.

The rain in the room cleared almost instantly while flower buds exploded into full bloom around them. Magic. Draco rolled to her side and leaned back against the soft grass, staring up at the darkening sky freckled with stars.

They sat in silence but Hermione couldn’t help but notice Draco cast glances in her direction. Moving her hands to her knees, Hermione brought her chin on top of them and looked through the green house.

“Sprout is going to kill you,” Hermione murmured, noticing Professor Sprout’s favorite plants having been moved.

“Nonsense,” Draco said, waving his hand about, “It was her idea to eat out here. I’m hardly that creative.”

“What…” Hermione gaped a little, ignoring Draco when he brought his hand to her back; rubbing it slightly

“C’mon Hermione,” he said, grinning when she turned on him, “Everyone knows…I daresay even some of the students.”

“Know what?” she asked.

“That I’m crazy about you.”

She nearly choked when she inhaled and stared at him with wide eyes. Draco’s face was stoned in full calmness, yet she could tell his eyes were shimmering with something unconscionable; hope.

“Oh,” was all she managed to squeak out.

Silence. Draco looked at her for a moment, scanning her eyes but soon realized that was all she was about to say.

Draco nodded slowly, “Right.”

Realization of impending rejection was clearly etched across his face. Hermione could see that much but she wasn’t sure if she was really rejecting him. Was she even considering it?

Sure they got along far more swimmingly than before but she didn’t…couldn’t…think of anything more than a blossoming friendship. Although, to be fair, she had thought about him more frequently and in situations where they were not really friends but something more. Not to mention, she had just shagged him…more than once.

But, since when did Draco bleeding Malfoy ever not shag some one because he could? There had always been rumors at school, and even after, about his exploits. He was known as the wizarding Casanova for Merlin’s sake! Everything that came from his mouth should have been taken lightly to begin with! Right?

“Draco,” she said quietly, watching his downcast eyes light up a little, “As much as this sounds cliché and a million times wrong; considering what just happened…and what has been happening. I think that we need to maintain a strictly professional…”

“Yes,” Draco interrupted, “I get it. Professional relationship.”

“For the students…” she added, watching him look at her with obvious skepticism.

“For the students? Or for you?” he asked tight lipped, “You can’t just…accept that…”

“It’s not about accepting anything, Draco,” Hermione interrupted this time, “I’m sorry if I have been leading you on or if you think our friendship has the chance to…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco spat, his face now covered in anger, “It obvious what this has been. Don’t worry about apologizing for your actions, my actions, everyone else’s actions…in the end it’s on your head and not mine.”

There was the Draco she knew was hidden deep inside. Part of her shrank a few inches. Draco rose and extended a hand, helping her to her feet. He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled before contorting his face to something eerily calm. This was beyond awkward. She could feel his heart sink and it confused her. What was worse was how she felt after she had just said those things. Did her heart just sink? Nonsense.