Lines of Love and Hate

Here's the next in my little series...

Make Me

Hermione grabbed Ron’s arm, restraining him from punching Malfoy’s lights out after he had insulted her. Typically, Malfoy used the usual “Mudblood” insults and such, but he had been getting nastier as of late. Hermione knew it was to mainly get a rise out of Harry, so she wasn’t terribly bothered, especially when he was sneering at Harry and not her when he said it.

The raven- haired teen had been distancing himself lately; both she and Ron saw it. They could only assume it was because of what he went through during the Final Battle. After all, Harry had gone out there alone, defeated the darkest wizard alive alone, and then had recovered alone. They had no idea what he went through.

And apparently Malfoy saw the growing distance between Harry and the rest of the world also, so he had stepped up his game a bit. Before the insults that spewed from his lips were about blood, about money, but now… now they had gotten personal and they cut deep.

He taunted them about their abandonment and jealousy, how greed and fame clouded their minds. He whispered old insecurities about their friendship in fourth year, about their recklessness in fifth year, about their blatant ignorance and disbelief in sixth year, and their carelessness of seventh year.

His insults were always centered around their treatment of Harry, Hermione realized, though she knew that no one else would even suspect. Because when Malfoy glared at Harry people assumed his insults were directed at their Savior, but Hermione caught his vehement side glances at her and Ron, clearly blaming them, not Harry.

Now she knew what Malfoy’s goal was. He wanted to do what no one had been able to do since the Final Battle; get a passionate response from Harry. He was a Malfoy; he wouldn’t settle for half dead, automatic reactions; he wanted it all. And Hermione wished him the best of luck. Yeah, she and Ron clung on, but they could do nothing to get Harry out of the black hole he had fallen into.

“You’re not my enemy, Malfoy. I only just got rid of the last one, and there’s a long line after him. Sadly you’re at the end.”

Hermione heard Harry’s low, dead voice and turned her attention to the scene that had attracted quite the crowd of students and ghosts. They also, unsurprisingly, had all of the portraits’ attention.

Draco stood in Harry’s face, glaring up into the lifeless green eyes, his sharp jaw tightening with something Hermione thought she was imagining. She saw desperation flit through the Slytherin’s gray eyes, and then noticed the pale, elegant hands clench into fists.

“I have no desire to waste my energy on a petty grudge.” Hermione flinched at the anger that flashed through the stormy eyes when Harry moved to brush the Slytherin aside.

But Hermione shouldn’t have worried that Draco would just let Harry get away with that. Because before anyone could react, one of Draco’s clenched fists connected with Harry’s jaw. Harry stumbled, but Draco was at him in an instant, fisting his robes and slamming him into the corridor wall.

Hermione glanced to the people watching the scuffle. They were all in shock and gaping, but they weren’t moving to intervene, having learned early to let the rivals duke it out and to just go get a teacher instead. For that the Head Girl was thankful, she’d hate to have to stop them from preventing Draco from getting his point across to Harry.

“You’re not going to caste me aside like one of your bloody fan club.”

Hermione tried not to let the smirk appear when she saw surprise spark in Harry’s green eyes.

‘Keep going, Draco, you have his attention now.’ Hermione silently encouraged.

“I’m not the Weasel or the Mudblood; I won’t have you ignoring me!”

And before anyone could even guess at what Harry’s reaction would be, Malfoy crushed his lips against their Savior’s.

There were audible gasps of shock and bellows of rage twining through the rather large gathering the fight had initially attracted. This time around Hermione did smirk when she both saw and heard Harry groan; low, deep, and needy, and then not hesitate to give back as good as he got.

She’d gladly bet all the money in the Wizarding World that no one expected the show they did get.

There were disappointed and jealous looks; along with some down right malicious glares; caste at the pair as the big gathering slowly and reluctantly dispersed for breakfast. Hermione smiled at the open, gaping jaw of the lanky redhead next to her and giggled. Ron’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click, but he couldn’t seem to wrench his eyes away from the two practically rutting in front of him.

Hermione cleared her throat loudly. Harry abruptly shoved Draco away from him, putting some distance between them and glaring at the few remaining stragglers as he straightened his robes. Hermione caste a sly look at the rumpled blonde Slytherin; Draco smirked at her, his gray eyes sparkling in happiness and mischief as he, himself, straightened out his own school robes.

“Bu…but…but…but…” Ron tried; Harry only raised an eyebrow in the redhead’s direction and crossed his arms.

“Yes, Ron?” Ron closed his slack mouth, swallowed and tried again.

“You… and him? Malfoy?”

Harry only crossed his arms while, with a wink in Hermione’s direction, Draco moved to wind his arms around Harry’s waist from behind, their two inch height difference allowing Draco to comfortably rest his pointed chin on Harry’s shoulder.

Hermione gulped at the sexy smirk that crossed Harry’s own lips before he twisted his upper torso, sliding one hand into Draco’s platinum tresses, the other lacing through Draco’s clasped ones at his abdomen, and kissed the blonde seeker with a passion Hermione hadn’t seen since Sirius had died. They separated after a few seconds and turned two satisfied, twin smirks to Ron.

“Oh….bloody…’ell.” Ron squeaked out next to her. Hermione gave the redhead a comforting pat on the arm, flashed a large, happy grin to the two ‘rivals’, and led a very confused Ron toward the Great Hall. A little breakfast helped everyone. And Harry and Draco were going to be having theirs, only Hermione was sure they wouldn’t be having it in the Great Hall.

The war was over, they finally had their chance to be happy, and Hermione was glad to
see Harry and Draco finally take that chance.

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