Claiming Hermione

Vincent Crabbe bounded through the heavy doors to the Main Hall with such force that almost the entire hall swiveled their heads toward the noise. Moments later the rest of a very gloomy, very lackluster, and very worn-out looking, Slytherin Quidditch team followed.

Draco had made their first practice of the season so punishing that most of them were questioning if they even liked Quidditch, and none of them had any plans to so much as look at their coach anytime soon. Draco couldn’t have cared less. It had been exactly what he needed. His muscles ached and his mind was clear. In his head, he was busy evaluating his team’s weak spots and forming a plan.

He slipped gracefully into his usual spot and made quick work of his juice. He poured himself another, took a sip before setting it down and looked up casually. His eyes quickly scanned the hall, noting the absence of Hagrid, Professor Sprout and Professor McGonagall from the Head Table, and that the Hufflepuffs were more boisterous than usual. Hufflepuffs, being the timid little angles they are, were not as likely as the rest to wake up with hangovers. His gaze flicked to a particular spot at the Gryffindor table and that’s when it happened.

Potter was turned away, talking to his new Weaselette, when Granger lifted her goblet and took a sip. She put her juice down and looked up, right at him, and smiled. It was natural, easy and warm.

Just a smile.

Draco blinked. It was over so fast, he wasn’t even really sure it happened at all. Potter said something to her and she tuned to him as if nothing had happened. Draco blinked again and was grateful for his learned ability to hide his reactions behind a blank expression.

When the feast appeared, Draco filled his plate numbly. His mind was whirling in circles. Why had she done that? Did she even know she had? What did she mean by it? Why the fuck did he care?

With his meal only half eaten, Draco left the Great Hall, brows drawn in an aggravated scowl. All his efforts, his aching muscles, his pissed-off team, his scuffed uniform were wasted in one moment by a stupid fucking smile.

A pair of curious green eyes followed him out.

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In contrast, Hermione had forgotten about it. Well, maybe not forgotten, but she had taken a rather logical position on the whole thing and was no longer bothered in the least. Her stupendous orgasm earlier may have had a lot to do with her currently pleasant state of mind.

She and Draco had actually talked, helped by Firewhiskey, of course. And not about school work, head duties, or her inferior bloodline or her best friends. Well, a little about that last bit, as it was, after all, the catalyst that started Hermione on her quest to forget about her changing friendships via a drunken stupor. Really, the whole thing had been kind of enlightening. A rare glimpse into the mysterious workings of Malfoy’s mind. It was…intriguing, or something.

And she would not deny that the evening had taken an unexpected turn. An unbelievably sexy turn that made her flush each time she thought of it. And she wanted to think about it, which made her flush more. Not to mention it had resulted in some great wanking material. She suspected that Malfoy was initially doing it to make her uncomfortable, and she sort of had been, considering she was getting enormously turned on by the snarky bastard. Probably a new form of torment he had planned to add to his list of ways to get to her. But, he had been affected too. She knew it and it made her feel a little weird.

So, fine. Malfoy was a sexy as hell stuck up brat that apparently knew something about erm…sensuality? That was hardly a new idea. It was merely interesting that the rumors about him might actually be true.

And then there was that whole “sleeping together” thing. She was sure that would be taken to the grave before either of them mentioned that. She could just ignore that. Really, it was no big deal. It’s not like anything had happened.

The hangover potion tip was nice of him.

“Mione,” Harry startled her out her thoughts. “Did you notice that Hagrid isn’t here? Ron and I were thinking of going to visit him after dinner. Come with?”

“Sure Harry.” Hermione said brightly.

After dinner, it seemed as if Ginny and Lavender, particularly the latter, were intent on joining the old friends, but in a stroke of brilliance that Hermione would be eternally grateful for, Harry convinced the girls to wait for them in the common room. She really needed some alone time with her best friends.

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The brisk autumn wind whipped at the smiling faces of the trio as the rambled down to Hagrid’s cabin, pulling their cloaks tighter around their necks. Ron was excited about Quidditch, as usual, and thankfully didn’t mention his new fiancé once. Harry was a little more subdued, but seemed content. At least as content as someone could be who had a battle to death with the darkest wizard of all time hanging over their head. It was remarkable that he was as sane. Hermione basked in the happy chatter and the security of years of friendship. They would be all right, she thought.

Hagrid had interesting news. While tending the gardens, Professor Sprout discovered three dead nifflers among a patch of mandrakes. All had puncture wounds and one seemed to have been masticated and then rejected. Having come to an immediate conclusion, she rushed off to find Hagrid. Sure enough, a nest of black snakes – the exact species was uncertain – was buried just to the side of Greenhouse 1. The family was dispatched, despite Hagrid’s inclination to adopt unwanted creatures such as this. Hagrid told the engrossed trio about a spell McGonagall cast using the blood of the snakes to locate other snakes on the grounds. Hagrid also explained that this was the third time since he had been a student himself that snakes like these had shown up. No one was sure why, or where they came from, but it seems that every eleven years in autumn, a small group of these deadly creatures find a home at Hogwarts. Usually they are discovered via the remains of an unlucky animal – once it was a Hippogriff, which probably lessened Hagrid’s guilt in performing pest control.

Danger and intrigue at Hogwarts. Hermione felt perfectly at ease, her mind relishing the mystery of the unknown snakes and their cyclical appearance. If she didn’t have NEWTS coming up, she would love to delve into solving the problem.

**************************************************

Hermione’s hair was a wild medusa of curls and her cheeks reddened after the windy walk back, and her eyes were bright with the possibilities of a question needing to be answered when she walked into the HCR. She stopped short at seeing Malfoy bent over at his desk, writing furiously. Odd for him to be here on a Saturday night. But he didn’t so much as blink to acknowledge her presence so she shrugged internally and her brain returned to the mystery at hand. She pulled down her copy of Hogwarts, A History and began scanning for any clues.

**************************************************

He knew he should have gone to his room, but his feet had other ideas and Draco found himself standing in the middle of their empty common room. What was he doing here? The Slytherin common room would be lively and all kinds of mischief could be found there. And surely more than one pretty witch would be more than willing to help ‘ease his mind.’ Trying to lure Draco Malfoy seemed to almost be a sport for Slytherin girls. He didn’t mind the attention. Who doesn’t love to have their ego stroked, but seeing as how he rarely succumbed, you’d think they’d give up. Draco was not prey.

Draco summoned Dobby and requested a few things, one of which was a mug of hot chocolate. He wasn’t really sure why the house elf still obeyed him, but he wasn’t about to question that perk.

Looking around the room again, Draco let out a long breath, resigned to hiding out in HCR. An awkward weight, combined with a sort of silent buzz of electricity, seemed to be lingering around his neck and he was at a loss to explain it, much less do anything about it. He pulled out his Ancient Runes book and parchment before settling at his desk for a long, quiet Saturday night.

**************************************************

An hour and half into his translation homework, the portrait suddenly swung open. There was only one person it could be and Draco fought hard not to raise his head. The buzz around him seemed to increase and, inexplicably, he felt like his heart had leapt into his throat. He swallowed and wrinkled his brow, confused at his body’s reaction. But, it was why he had come here, wasn’t it? To see her. To be… near her.

To see if she would smile at him again. Draco kept his eyes glued to his work.

**************************************************

For the next four hours, they sat in silence together, both seemingly engrossed in their endeavors, shifting in their chairs occasionally, or getting up to retrieve a different book from their case. Dobby brought Hermione a cup of hot chocolate too and refilled Draco’s without being asked. It was well after 1am and still Hermione didn’t want to leave. It was ridiculous, she knew, staying here this late. She wasn’t even studying. She stopped caring about the damn snakes an hour ago!

But the pull to stay here, with him, kept running roughshod over her reasoning and she made up excuses not to leave. It wasn’t until a huge yawn forced it’s way out her that she finally gave in and put her books back on the shelf. When she got to the door, she hesitated.

“Good night, Malfoy.” She said quietly before she slipped out. Draco didn’t look up once. A loud roar of thunder rumbled through the castle then, followed closely by a bright crack of lightning. And that’s when it started raining.


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Been a super busy week, so I apologize for the sort of long wait. I know it's not hot sexy lovin's, but hopefully you liked it. And I think the build up will be better than jumping in the sack after one drunken "meeting" of sorts. Please let me know what you think. Cheers!