The Challenge

Part II


A/N: Sorry about the terribly long wait. I do hope to never make readers wait so long again lol.

I should also warn you...from this point out, there is some cases of OOCness. Don’t get me wrong, Hermione and Draco continue to argue, as always, but their arguing turns more into playful banter; or at least my writing conveys that feeling, as that is what I was going for. But anyway, on with the story and I hope you enjoy. Once again, love that constructive criticism.

Oh...and I own nothing...sadly.

“Sleep well?”

“Very.” Draco replied as he walked into the dining room, hair still mussed from his deep sleep.

“Wow.” He looked up from the floor to find Hermione sitting in her usual chair, looking rather shocked.

“What?” He whined.

“I’ve never seen you look so...unkempt.”

Draco quickly ran to the nearest mirror out in the entry hall and ran his fingers through his hair, only now realizing he hadn’t fixed it before coming down.

After a minute or so, he figured it was as good as it was going to get and returned to the dining room.

Draco knew his mother and Hermione had been laughing in his absence but didn’t worry himself with it as he assembled food on his plate for breakfast.

As a dull silence hit the room, Draco’s eyes began to roam over to Hermione. He noticed the disgusted wrinkle of her nose at eating house-elf created food and couldn’t stop a smile from hitting his lips.

“So what are your plans for the day?” His mother broke his thoughts.

“Well, I was hoping on doing some more reading, if you don't mind.”

“Not a bit. I only wish you could get my son in there with you.”

“Mother, must you be such a nuisance?”

“Yes, I find it rather enjoyable.”

“Well at least one of us is having fun.”

“I told Draco yesterday that he clearly gets his fast mind from you.” Hermione commented.

“Oh, and how did he reply? Let me guess...something cynical, condescending and just generally evil?”

“No.”

“Well then you surely called her a fool and told her she didn’t know what she was talking about.” Draco’s mother said in all seriousness.

“No, actually.” Hermione spoke up. “He agreed whole-heartedly, I believe. You now owe me twice.” She turned from his mother to Draco. Draco scowled at her audacity as she took a bit of pancake off the prongs of her fork, giving him an innocent smile.

“I thought I paid you back for one last night.” He smirked at her and watched her expression harden.

“Not even close.” She returned his smirk before sliding another piece of pancake off her fork with her teeth.

“Dare I ask what that is about?”

“Please don't.” Draco pleaded.

“Well, that only makes me want to ask more.”

“I won’t answer.”

“I know you won’t but it is worth a shot.”

“Believe me, it isn’t.”

“My dear son, will you never admit defeat?”

“He’s too stubborn for such an act.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“What do you mean?” Draco’s mother questioned.

“This is the most stubborn girl in the whole of Hogwarts.”

“I am not!”

“Alas, she refutes her stubbornness by being stubborn!”

“Draco let the girl be. If memory serves you aren’t exactly docile in achieving goals. I’d be willing to bet you are still actively attempting to seduce our young Hermione; if not under a different cause.”

“And what do you think this new cause is?”

“Hermione, don’t ask that.” Draco pleaded.

“It appears I already have. What do you think his reason is?”

“Hermione? What do you say we go to the library?” Draco stood and walked to her side.

“No, I want to hear this.” She slapped away his hand that had been attempting to pull her chair out.

“I truly believe he likes you, my dear.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Fine, if you two are going to act as if I’m not even here, I’m simply going to make it easier on both of you.”

“Thank you dear.” Draco’s mother called out nonchalantly after him as he left.

Draco hides outside the door, intent on hearing their conversation.

“It’s in the eyes, dear. I can see his feelings. He’s felt like this for years. Everytime his father brought your name up at the dinner table, Draco attentively listened to the conversation. Anytime he owled home his weekly complaints, you were mentioned at least once, everytime. His father could never see it, but I have known for a bit of time about my son’s attraction to you. Now I believe the question is, how do you feel about him?”

Draco’s anger at his mother melted into keen interest.

“I’m still convinced he is only trying to seduce me.”

“I believe that was merely a cover up for the real reason, Hermione.”

“He’s told me himself he was seducing me and that was all!”

“Men lie, Hermione. You know his weakness. Simply look into his eyes and you’ll know whether he is speaking the truth or not. And you don’t need to worry of him hiding his emotions in his eyes because the more he tries to hide, the more the emotion shows. Now you can go. I believe my son is waiting on the other side of the door for you.”

“Must you know everything, Mother?” Draco yelled without moving from his hiding place.

“Yes.” She replied in an all-knowing tone as Draco returned to the room and looked to Hermione.

“Would you like to go to the library?”

“That would be nice.” Hermione replied bashfully. She kept her gaze intent on the floor as she stood from her chair and made her way to him, clearly embarrassed.

“Was she speaking the truth?” Hermione asked as they traveled the now familiar path to the library. “About the letters and the dinner table conversations?”

He could feel her eyes on his but refused to look up.

“I don’t wish to talk about it.”

She nods in annoyance before walking a little ahead of him.

“You know, I give you a chance to admit how you feel, or how you mother insist you feel and you refuse to talk about it.” She walked a few more steps ahead before turning back. “You mother is right, you know; your feelings are evident in your eyes.” Granger marched off after that, and Draco was left standing in shock.

∆∆∆

“Granger!” He called several minutes later as he entered the library.

She poked her head out from behind one of the stacks, an innocent smile on her face.

He marched over to her and, despite his angered expression, her smile never faltered.

“I believe I still owe you two favors.”

Draco crashed his lips down to hers for the second time that week.

This was different, he noted. Hermione had been resistant in the first kiss but now she appeared to be welcoming the contact with open arms. She allowed him entrance and he gleefully explored all the valleys and other surfaces of her mouth before challenging her tongue to a heated duel.

Her arms found their way to his neck and her digits purposively ran through his hair, making it disheveled, while he ran his hands down her body, hitting every curve before settling on her hips.

Her breathing became frantic as his wandering hand traveled slightly up her shirt to rest on the round of her stomach, teasing the skin.

Draco, sensing her lungs needed relief, released her lips and moved to her neck instead. As he applied a gentle pressure, Hermione’s knees gave out and she fell back against a stack, causing several books to fall. He slipped his tongue up to behind her ear and Hermione moaned in appreciation.

He had been waiting years for this. That’s right. He’d admit it. Now that he had this, he wasn’t about to let it go by being petty.

“Moan for me again.” He grumbled into her ear before licking her sensitive earlobe.

And she obliged.

One of her hands slipped down to rest on the small of his back while the other’s grip on his silky locks tightened.

He reclaimed her lips once more, forcing her into yet another tongue battle that was even more exhilarating than the previous.

Draco was about to move his hands further up her skin when he heard a subtle ‘Draco’ being called from the entrance of the library. They both pulled away and stared in the others eyes before completely separating and trying to straighten out their appearances; Hermione correcting her clothes, Draco his hair.

“Yes, Mother?” He smoothly strutted out from between the two stacks that had covered them from Narcissa’s view.

“What were you doing?” She asked.

“Assisting Hermione with finding a book.” Just as he said it, the aforementioned girl came from between the same stacks, heaving a slight sigh that only Draco caught that caused him to fight like Hell not to smirk.

“Hello, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Dear, call me Narcissa. Surely not Mrs. Malfoy.” She cringed at the title.

“Mother, are you in need of assistance?”

“Ah, yes. I was wondering how you two were doing in here.”

“We were doing fine, mother.” He growled, irritated with the interruption.

“And the Malfoy kindness shines through!” Draco’s mother replied sarcastically.

“Could you please leave us to do research? We need to work on the meeting for when we return.”

“Fine, I’ll shall leave you be. But, Hermione?”

“Hmm?”

“If he should bother you in any way that you feel you are in need of aid, I’ll be in my study. It is right off the entrance hall steps to the left.”

Hermione nodded her understanding but kept quiet.

“Harry and Ron are going to kill me!” She yelled the moment Draco’s mother was out of hearing range.

“You? They could never kill you! They’ll blame me and kill me! But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is my mother is gone and we can get back to our earlier activities. I believe I still have one favor to pay you back for.” He approached her and tried to place his hands back on her hips but she pushed them away.

“It does matter...to me. Harry and Ron are my best friends! Despite Ronald’s recent...treason.”

“Well if this is truly what you want, they will understand.”

She snickered at that.

“They will never understand. Ronald will call it ‘fraternizing with the enemy’ and Harry, well Harry will simply stop speaking to me.”

“Then they aren’t your friends. If they don’t want to see you happy, they aren’t worth the time.”

“They would only be watching out for my well-being. They will be suspicious of you.”

“Should they be?” She added after a moment.

“You still think I am going to betray you? Well, I have news for you. I’m not Weasley. I’m not going to be a complete and utter idiot. It simply isn’t my style.”

“But you will pressure me into sex.”

Draco was silenced. He hadn’t a clue what to say; if he stated the truth she would surely be pissed.

“I might. But I will never force myself upon you.”

“At least you are finally being honest.”

“Always good to have the occasional change; don’t you think?”

“Suppose so.”

“So...what now?” Draco asked after a moment.

“Now, do we tell your mother?”

“No, she will be sickeningly happy.”

“And the problem with that is...”

“It isn’t like me to make my mother happy.”

“Really? Because it seems to me that your mere presence raises her spirits.”

“I suppose.”

“Don’t sneer.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like it.”

His sneer deepened.

“Pain in the ass.”

“Oh, am I rubbing off on you?”

“Unfortunately, I believe so. Any chance you are becoming nicer?”

He rolled his eyes slightly, as if making an internal inspection before replying. “Nope, sorry. Still the same arrogant ass as before.”

“Pity.”

“It truly isn’t. Now,” he steps closer to her, “are you going to slap my hands away this time?”

“If you keep acting like such a prat, then I will not hesitate to punch.”

“Come on Granger; stop being such a prude.”

“I am not being a prude! I am merely standing by my morals!”

“Your morals say I can’t touch you?” He slid his hands down to her waist and began to kiss her neck. Next, his hand wandered up her shirt slightly to massage her back; his lips continued their persistent motion on her neck. As his hands continued the ascent, they fell on her bra strap.

“That’s what my morals say you can’t do.” She gently pushed him away.

“Please let me have you.” He whispered in her ear.

Granger appeared taken aback at this; to the point that it took her a moment to put her brain back in gear.

“How dare you! You are taking advantage of me!”

“Granger, I told you I might try to pressure you into sex but I will never force myself upon you.”

“Well what do you call putting your hands up my shirt and trying to remove my bra?!”

“Granger, you can tell me to stop at any time.”

“Then stop.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “It appears I already have.”

She marched angrily back to her chair and resumed her earlier work. “Leave me to study. Dumbledore is going to be sending our schoolwork later on. I would ask you if you need help on your Transfiguration. But I believe you can do it on your own.” She gave him a knowing expression once he had pulled back.

“I assume you wrote the old bat.”

“He isn’t a bat; but yes I wrote him.”

“I assume my work will be coming as well.”

“Of course.”

”Bloody woman.” He said as he turned and left.

∆∆∆

“You know what I would think? You would make a great father.”

“Jesus Mother!” He turned to face her voice that had attacked his ears moments after exiting the library. “Will you never stop?”

“How many times must we go over this? I will never stop until I have what I want.”

“And what exactly is it you want?” He asked with dullness apparent in his tone. He had heard ‘the story’ a million times; might as well get it over with

“I want a grand child and soon.” That bit was new.

“But I’m not-”

“And I have picked out a suitable partner for you.”

“This should be good.” He replied sarcastically while folding his arms over his chest and leaning lazily against the nearest wall.

“That girl right inside the library is perfect for you. She won’t bore your sharp mind like the Parkinson girl and yet she should be good for your...lusty side.”

“Mother!”

“What; I’m simply stating a fact.”

“And what fact might that be?” Hermione interrupted them from the door of the library.

“Nothing!” Draco quickly replied before his mother had the chance.

“Fine, my son. But I assure you I am not finished with you yet! I will have my way.” She yelled over her shoulder as she glided off.

“May I ask what that was about?”

“It might scare you.”

“I enjoy a good fright from time to time.”

“Not this one, you won’t.”

“Whatever you say. I shall return to my studying but I just wanted to give this to you.” Granger handed him what appeared to be a thousands pounds of his books and parchment with assignments written on it.

“Thanks.” He replied sarcastically before walking off. “See you later.” He threw a smirky expression over his shoulder at her before heading to his room.

∆∆∆

“Get some good reading in today?” Draco’s mother asked as they sat down at dinner.

“Yes.”

Draco let his eyes linger on Hermione only a second longer, as to not raise his mother’s suspicion.

“And Draco, what did you do today?”

“Schoolwork.”

“Okay.” She set her silverware down on her plate with a loud clunk. “What is going on with you two? You usually won’t stop talking to one another and now I have to beg for a sentence that is more than two syllables!”

“Nothing is going on, mother. There, a full eight syllables. Happy now?”

“Extremely. Hermione, I trust you have completed your schoolwork as well.”

“Yes.”

“Draco tells me you are always on top of your schooling.”

“He doesn’t lie.”

“For once.” Narcissa laughs and Hermione grins before giving a sly glance his way.

“Mother, I do not lie...much.”

“Your eyes say you’re lying about lying, my boy.”

“Would you shut up about my eyes?!”

“She speaks the truth, Malfoy.” Hermione gave him another glance.

“I really like this girl, Draco.”

“Pleased to hear it.” He kept his tone inexplicable.

“Why have you brought no other girls home?”

Hermione emitted the tiniest murmur that forced Draco to question what she had said.

“Well, I am shocked you haven’t brought any one else home; especially Pansy.” Granger kept her gaze intent on her peas until her mention of Pansy, where she looked up to Draco.

“Oh that wretched Parkinson girl. I’ve never met her but she sounds terrible!” His mother squealed from the end of the table but the high pitch barely registered in his ears as his eyes stayed glued to hers.

“No, I’ve never brought Parkinson home.” He said with a light chuckle.

“No one else?”

“No one else.”

Narcissa stared at her son and his friend intently but neither caught it as they kept expressionless eyes on one another.

“Has Weasley found a way here, yet?” Draco looked back to his plate, breaking their intense stare session.

“Obviously not.” Hermione joked.

“Once again, I am to be the smart-ass of the two of us.”

“Not to stop this charming little bickering session before it begins, but what do you mean ‘has Weasley found a way here yet’?”

“My friend, Ronald Weasley, is trying to rescue me from apparently the Hell that is Malfoy Manor. Do not worry, though. He will not succeed.”

“How can you be so certain?” Draco asked.

“Dumbledore will stop him.”

“He doesn’t know the password to the Head Dorms, does he?”

“No. Remember the row I spoke to you about? That kept him off the ‘need to know’ list.”

“How about Potter?”

“No, I needed a place private from those two.”

“Anyone at all know the password?”

“No.” She kept calm but her voice hinted at her impatience with the repeated question.

“Mother, if you will excuse us, we have some more work to attend to.” Draco stated suddenly.

He practically dragged Granger out of her chair and forced her to run to the door.

“Where are we going?”

“To the library.”

“Why?”

He didn’t reply with words; Draco looked back and gave her the best smirk he could muster.

“Not just for that I hope.”

“Yes, just for that.” He began to run a little faster.

Granger tugged on his arm to stop him, sending him flying back slightly.

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked with a light chuckle.

“I don’t want to do just that on our week here.”

Draco grumbled in complaint but promptly halted his actions as to not scare Hermione off. He was going to have to woo her.

“Granger, I can’t control myself around you. I need to have my hands on you.” He stepped closer and did just that.

He, for once, was not lying.

“That doesn’t mean you can!” She pushes his hands away with great velocity and he is fearful of being on the receiving end of another right hook.

Granger looked very tempted to punch him, but instead settled for marching off toward the guest room.

Draco gave her a few seconds head start before he ran after her.

When he got to her room, the door was closed and locked.

“Granger?” He knocked softly.

“If you think you can just use me for sex and then leave...think again. That is the same thing Ronald believed and the same thing Ronald wanted and that ended just greatly.” She screamed from behind the door.

“That isn’t just what I want.”

“But you want that don’t you?” Granger threw the door open, tears streaming ferociously down her cheeks.

“Granger, I’m a seventeen year old male. What else do you expect?”

“I expect you to at least be civil and wait.”

“Granger, I wasn’t taking you to the library for sex. I simply wanted to kiss you.”

“I know, but with us, one thing could lead to another.”

“What; don’t trust yourself around me?”

“Don’t turn my words on me, Draco Malfoy.”

“Why not? It’s fun.” Draco smirked once more.

“Can’t you ever be serious? We are trying to have a conversation!”

“No, we are having an argument and I am never serious in our arguments. Hell, I’d be daring enough to call myself witty. It is what we do, Granger. We fight then we fight some more. The only difference now is, we have something to do that motivates us to make up.”

She looked stumped at that.

Bought time too.

Draco finally had shut up the great Hermione Granger.

Never thought it possible.

“You make it sound as if you enjoy our arguing.”

“I do. But I have recently discovered the making up is significantly better than the fight itself.”

“Must you be such a brute?”

“When the time calls for it, yes.”

Draco placed a hand on the threshold, trapping Granger in. He looked down at her as she bit her bottom lip.

He took a step forward, forcing Granger to step back, deeper into the room.

“Draco, what are you doing?”

“We just had a fight; it’s time to make up.” He slammed the door shut behind him as he continued the slow walk of a predator.

“You said you wouldn’t force yourself upon me.”

“I’m not.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not even touching you...yet.”

“But you’re going to.”

“God I hope so.”

“Do you really want me?”

The question threw Draco off.

“What do you mean? He stopped his stride.

“I have some...insecurities in the area of boys due to Ronald. I find it hard to believe anyone could want me.”

“Weasel is an idiot; I would appreciate it if you didn’t compare me to him any longer.”

“I’m not comparing you!” She yelled angrily. “I just wanted to know-”

He cut her off with a kiss.

“We already argued; it’s time to make up.”

Draco kisses her again, this time more passionate and deeper; his tongue swiftly plunging into her mouth, only to come back out.

The kissed turned brutal as Granger showed her anger with a bite on his bottom lip that nearly cut the skin.

He pulled her flush with his body with an arm around her waist. Granger wrapped a hand around his neck, applying pressure to the skin with her fingertips.

“Not fair.” He murmured against her lips.

“What isn’t?”

Their lips stayed connected but they had paused their heated actions, both gasping for breath.

“You getting to be so sensual and near brutal while I am stuck being the sensitive sap.”

“No one is stopping you from raising the bar.”

“Once I raise my intensity, I may not be able to stop.” He admitted.

“I’ll make you stop.”

He picked her up, weaving her legs around his hips in the process, before slamming her into the nearby wall rather harshly.

Granger, who was now eye level with him, kissed him once more; her hands running through his hair.

“I love how your tongue battles with mine.” He pulled away for oxygen. “Come on, Granger. Don’t be afraid to be vocal.”

“I...can’t.” She stated through gasp for breath.

“What; can’t Granger take a little heated kissing?”

She proceeded to shut him up with a violent kiss on the lips before making her way down his neck, biting the sensitive flesh there as he moaned with pleasure.

“Yes, that’s much better.”

He slid his hands slyly up her shirt, using his fingertips to creep up her skin.

As their lips met again, she reached down for his hands, relying on him and the wall for support, stopping his motion before he reached too far up

“Time to stop.” He intertwined their fingers and leaned his forehead against hers.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I need to touch you.”

“You are touching me.”

He grumbled in aggravation and slid his eyes shut.

“But you aren’t going to be for long. Time to put me down.”

“I refuse to do that.”

“But I’m asking you to. And remember, no forcing yourself on me.”

“I know what I said, Granger, but I rather enjoy this position we are in.” He smirked and lowered his lips to her neck. Releasing one of her hands, he stroked her shoulder; bring her shirt’s sleeve off the flesh. Draco placed light, butterfly kisses along her perfect skin.

He was elated to feel her shiver at the contact, and stored her should in his memory as a sensitive spot.

Draco licked his way from her shoulder all the way to her earlobe, a soft moan escaping her the entire time.

He brought his hand to her hair and weaved his digits through the chestnut locks. Nuzzling into her neck, he took in a long breath of the enticing aroma of her hair.

“Draco?” Narcissa’s voice drafted through the door, from the hall.

“If you don’t want her to find us, you have to put me down.” Hermione looked him straight in the eye.

He regrettably stepped back, and Hermione slid from his hips. She looked uncomfortably to the floor while finger combing through her hair, a vain attempt at fixing it.

“You can try to comb that hair all you want; it will never be tame.”

Granger scowls before running her hands down her clothing to put the items back in their proper place.

“Save the anger for later, love.” He whisperers into her ear before straightening his own appearance. “Now, be a good girl and go out into the hall and tell Mother I am in my room, sleeping.”

“Just go, Granger.” He ordered after she gasps to retort.

She scowled once more but did as told and Draco hid away from the threshold as Granger opened the door.

“Mrs. Malfoy.” Draco listened as she greeted and closed the door behind her.

“Please, dear; call me Narcissa. We are practically family after all.” Draco rolled his eyes at his mother’s statement.

Granger laughed politely before nervously relaying the information to his mother that Draco had asked.

“Oh, okay dear.” His mother replied to the news. “When he wakes, can you tell him I wish to speak with him?”

“Certainly.” She sounded as if she were ready to vomit any moment. “Well, if you don’t mind...Narcissa, I am going to return to studying.”

“Certainly, dear. Have a good evening.”

Granger reopened the door and stepped in. She sunk to the floor, her eyes closed and hands behind her back.

“I hate lying.”

“I noticed.” He smirked at her coyness.

“Don’t mock.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You always are.”

“Not in this particular circumstance.”

He walked over, sinking to the floor next to her.

“How long until we tell her?”

“Not sure.”

“But we will eventually?”

“I suppose.”

She grabbed his hand and gave him a death grip, but he refuses to admit to pain.

“Fine.” He caved. “We’ll tell her eventually. When I am ready.”

Granger nods in understanding before shutting her eyes and resting her head against the hard wood of the door.

“Did I make up for the two favors?” Draco leans in and gently licks her earlobe.

“Not even close.” She replies deviously as she narrowly opens her eyes.

“Wench.”

“Wanker.”

“Very possible.”

“Unlike my being a wench.”

“On the contrary; I find your possibilities of being a wench significantly higher than mine being a wanker.” He joked.

“So you call me a prude and a wench all in the same day; aren’t you the contradictor.”

“Shut up, Granger.”

“Such a snappy comeback, Malfoy, although you should know I will never be silenced.”

“I know one way to silence you.”

“See! If either of us is wanton, it certainly isn’t me!”

“Sure, if that makes you feel better, Granger.”

“I am not in need of an ego-boost; especially from someone like you.”

“And what is that to mean?”

“You are a jerk. I don’t take compliments or any thing to the sort from jerks such as yourself.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is.”

“So, if I told you that you aren’t completely physically appalling, what would you say?”

“I’d say you are lying.”

“Am I?”

“Are you?”

“I suppose you should listen to my mother’s advice and look at my eyes.”

And she did just that. Granger sat still for nearly a minute, scanning his eyes for any evidence of false truth; he made certain not to blink once.

“It isn’t possible.”

“What isn’t?”

“That you could be speaking the truth.”

“Not could; I am speaking the truth.”

“I still don’t believe you.” Granger replied stubbornly after a moment, her chin held high as always.

“Of course you don’t.”

He stood and forced her to her feet before walking her to the bed as if she were a two-year-old.

“Good day, Granger. Perhaps we can speak later of what exactly paying back favors to you entails.” He said as he walked out the door, never glancing back to her.