False Pretense
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
15
Views:
16,364
Reviews:
77
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
15
Views:
16,364
Reviews:
77
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from this story!!!!! All characters belong to JK Rowling!
You Won't Get too Far from Me
A/N: I really liked writing this chapter. It’s a little short but to the point. Tell me what you think!
p.s. I need to proof read LOL.
kazfeist - You are correct it's ten months. Lol. I just Googled it. Silly me. See, this is what I have such lovely reviewers like you for - to whip my butt into gear and get stuff right!
jacqui - I'm not sure what's wrong with the word. I check it each time I submit a chapter and it seems to appear.....hmmm
Song:
Very Close Talking
Guster – Amsterdam
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i74d1FCvj-Y
=========================================================================================
Very Close Talking
=========================================================================================
Classes began and Hermione already lashed out several detentions to one Hufflepuff, two Gryffindors and three Slytherins. Of every house, she would have to say that Ravenclaws hardly ever received a detention from her. It wasn’t because she was playing favoritism, if she had Gryffindors would have free reign of the school, it was that Ravenclaws were too busy studying to do anything else that caused trouble. Hermione had to attend to several very painful transfiguration her first year students inflicted by not flicking or swishing correctly. One poor toad looked like a Picasso painting when he was supposed to be a button. It was rather sad really and she never remembered failing at something so simple. Then again, she was top of her class.
Closing the door to her classroom, Hermione folded her tawny brown robes over her form and walked down the hall. Her hair was tied loosely in a bun a top her head with curly tendrils that fell over her face and she looked as if she were swimming in her robes. Then again, it wasn’t a big deal if she looked good or not. She was a professor, not some super model. If anything, she’d rather be considered a schoolmarm than attractive. However, that couldn’t be said for certain people.
Hermione passed the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and paused when she heard a gaggle of girls laughing. Frowning, Hermione took a step back and pushed the door open just a tad. There sat Draco Malfoy, Professor Draco, on his wooden desk with his hair mussed up and a big Malfoy grin plastered across his smug face. He rested a hand on his knee and leaned forward as he chuckled, surrounded by a gaggle of girls from every house.
“I really enjoyed the class,” a Gryffindor said lightly, “But I can’t get the wand movements right.”
“Oh?” Draco said quirking an eyebrow, “Here, let me show you really quick. Stand back ladies.”
The girls swooned and Hermione bleched in her throat as Draco stood behind the student and held her hand with his own.
“You want to focus, keep your eye on a spot just above the target and,” he purred from behind her, rolling her wrist with his hand, “Wave halfway and flick!”
A silvery light shot from the tip of her wand and hit the target that sat on the side of the room. The girls erupted with glee and giggled, causing Hermione to roll her eyes. She shoved her hands into her pockets and was about to leave when he apparently caught sight of her.
“Professor Granger,” Draco called out in that stupid Slytherin drawl, “I do believe I have an appointment with you regarding Prefect duties. Is it your free period?”
“Yes,” Hermione said through gritted teeth, standing rooted in her spot.
“Excellent,” Draco chirped, turning to the group of swooning girls, “I will see you all next class. Now, off with you.”
“Ok!” they all said in unison and like drones, the girls left in a wave, giggling and she swore she heard one of them call him ‘Dreamy Draco.’
Another blech and a tad bit of vomit came up but she covered herself quickly by placing the back of her hand to her mouth as if she were yawning. Draco sat back at his desk, rather on top of his desk, and folded his hand over one knee. Hermione waited until the last ninny left and closed the door behind her. Might as well get this over with, she thought.
Her eyes lingered on Draco’s form for a second and she frowned. He, of course, looked like a bloody model wearing black slacks and a matching vest, a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons on done. His hair had fallen over his face and he looked somewhat tired but cheerful. Bloody prat. Hermione cleared her throat as she approached and stood at the edge of the row of tables in front of him.
“Professor Flitwick and Sprout want to take the Greenhouses and the grounds for the first week. Professor Snape and I have been patrolling the dungeons and library halls while our prefects take the Astronomy tower and upper buildings,” Hermione said rather quickly, her eyes locked onto the faded Dark Mark on his left arm.
Apparently, the man didn’t bother hiding his past and to flaunt it about. Ridiculous. Of course, it’d make him more popular. The thought of an attractive dangerous man in the halls was enough to set every hormonal teenager in a frenzy and cause all the boys to envy him. Hermione inhaled to continue but Draco interrupted by coughing into his hand.
“I assume that you and I are to take the dungeons and library then?” Draco asked, his eyes skimming over her own form.
While she had been wearing rather baggy robes, the way his eyes penetrated her made her cross her arms over her chest and pull the fabric closer to her. She noticed Draco smirk, as if he knew what she was doing, and leaned back slightly.
“I would gladly trade positions with Filch if that is what you want,” Hermione added, cringing at the thought of having to endure two hours of patrolling with Filch.
She had been naïve upon her first year and spent the entire time trying to shield her mind from the vulgarity he spoke of torture and dungeons. He wasn’t a bad guy by any means, just lonely, and bitter. Hermione never offered to do patrols with him again and was glad when Snape agreed to patrol with her.
“No. No.” Draco shook his head, “Dungeons and library it is…So, what time do I get to see you for our date?”
Hermione rolled her eyes, “You are impossible. First you flirt with your students…”
“Whoa there, Granger,” Draco said instantly, moving to his feet, “Before you make any more accusations…”
“I wasn’t making accusations, I was informing you of my observations,” Hermione said in a matter-of-fact tone, her hands dropped to her side when Draco’s face contorted. “What other observations could one make when you’re basically plastering yourself against a student who isn’t even fifteen yet?"
Her words irked him the wrong way and she liked it. She wanted to piss him off because she was now seeking vengeance for all the years of torment he had given her. Draco dug his heels into the ground, instantly reminding Hermione of a charging bull but he remained firmly planted on the stone floor.
“That is sick,” Draco snarled, “Sick and uncalled for.”
“What else do you expect me to think? Dreamy Draco?” Hermione snapped at him, hissing when she spoke the girls’ nickname for him, “You’re only doing so well because you’re good to look at. No one will ever take you seriously.”
“Oh really? If you’re so concerned with my credentials, why don’t you call up Scarhead?” Draco asked, his fists clenching, “Or did you not know that he was my partner when I was an Auror.”
“I don’t need to know your credentials to know you’re a terrible teacher and a horrible person,” Hermione said coolly, even though her face was flushed.
“When will you get off my back and finally accept that I’m a teacher. An equal?” Draco questioned, nearly spitting with venomous rage.
“When you accept that Muggle-borns are equals and house-elves are not slaves,” Hermione growled back at him, both standing toe to toe with one another.
“Fat chance,” Draco snapped, running his hand through his hair.
They were silent for a moment and Hermione was prepared to storm out of there in a blaze of triumph. But, she found herself startled when she heard the deep rumble of Draco’s laugh. She hardly came up to his shoulder, yet she wasn’t afraid of him. Draco’s cold eyes locked onto her hot chocolate gems and he moved toward her.
“We’re going to be at each other’s throats all the time, aren’t we?” Draco purred, backing Hermione up into a desk.
“Yes, until the day you leave.” Hermione wanted to sound angry but instead she found herself pressed against the edge of the table.
Her hands gripped onto the edge when Draco moved so quickly, his hands cupping her face, lips so close to hers. She could smell the mocha traces on his lips, his breath bathing her completely. What was worse, her lips parted in anticipation. She felt his beating heart against hers and her own pounded against her chest. Their eyes were locked onto one another, glaring daggers and hazy with lust. Draco pressed up against her, his lips hovering a mere centimeter hardly touching but not far away at all.
Both panted heavily at that moment and Hermione felt something stir in her stomach as he leaned down. Lower and lower until…Hermione jabbed him with her wand. Her hand had wrangled her wand free from her robes and pointed it square into Draco’s chest, right above his heart. His eyes widened only slightly but he didn’t move. Instead, a slow curving smirk appeared on his lips and sent shivers up her spine.
“You’re going to hex me for talking to you?” Draco breathed, his lips still hovering against hers.
“What do you call this kind of talking, Malfoy?” Hermione whispered, feeling his lips between her own every time she said a syllable.
“Close talking,” Draco merely replied, “Very close talking.”
“Well,” Hermione breathed, “Are we done?’
Draco pursed his lips, capturing her own for a split second, before he nodded, “Quite.”
They parted from one another awkwardly. Draco smirked as he leaned back against his desk, causing Hermione’s cheeks to flush slightly. She nodded and looked away, turning on her heel and strode out of the room.
As she reached the door, Draco called out, “Nine o’clock, Granger. Don’t be late!”
“Sod off,” Hermione replied over her shoulder, fighting back a smile as she closed the door shut.
She stood out in the hall and closed her eyes, reveling in the moment of strength she had. She wanted to kiss him the moment she saw him with the students. As much as it pained her to admit it, he had a flare with the students and they flourished under his tutoring. He looked so damn good with his sleeves rolled up, and the scent of cinnamon and mocha made her go weak in the knees.
Shaking her head, Hermione cleared her throat and strode across the halls, her robes billowing behind her. Like she’d ever admit she wanted to have more ‘close’ talking conversations with him. She was a bloody hypocrite.
p.s. I need to proof read LOL.
kazfeist - You are correct it's ten months. Lol. I just Googled it. Silly me. See, this is what I have such lovely reviewers like you for - to whip my butt into gear and get stuff right!
jacqui - I'm not sure what's wrong with the word. I check it each time I submit a chapter and it seems to appear.....hmmm
Song:
Very Close Talking
Guster – Amsterdam
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i74d1FCvj-Y
=========================================================================================
Very Close Talking
=========================================================================================
Classes began and Hermione already lashed out several detentions to one Hufflepuff, two Gryffindors and three Slytherins. Of every house, she would have to say that Ravenclaws hardly ever received a detention from her. It wasn’t because she was playing favoritism, if she had Gryffindors would have free reign of the school, it was that Ravenclaws were too busy studying to do anything else that caused trouble. Hermione had to attend to several very painful transfiguration her first year students inflicted by not flicking or swishing correctly. One poor toad looked like a Picasso painting when he was supposed to be a button. It was rather sad really and she never remembered failing at something so simple. Then again, she was top of her class.
Closing the door to her classroom, Hermione folded her tawny brown robes over her form and walked down the hall. Her hair was tied loosely in a bun a top her head with curly tendrils that fell over her face and she looked as if she were swimming in her robes. Then again, it wasn’t a big deal if she looked good or not. She was a professor, not some super model. If anything, she’d rather be considered a schoolmarm than attractive. However, that couldn’t be said for certain people.
Hermione passed the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and paused when she heard a gaggle of girls laughing. Frowning, Hermione took a step back and pushed the door open just a tad. There sat Draco Malfoy, Professor Draco, on his wooden desk with his hair mussed up and a big Malfoy grin plastered across his smug face. He rested a hand on his knee and leaned forward as he chuckled, surrounded by a gaggle of girls from every house.
“I really enjoyed the class,” a Gryffindor said lightly, “But I can’t get the wand movements right.”
“Oh?” Draco said quirking an eyebrow, “Here, let me show you really quick. Stand back ladies.”
The girls swooned and Hermione bleched in her throat as Draco stood behind the student and held her hand with his own.
“You want to focus, keep your eye on a spot just above the target and,” he purred from behind her, rolling her wrist with his hand, “Wave halfway and flick!”
A silvery light shot from the tip of her wand and hit the target that sat on the side of the room. The girls erupted with glee and giggled, causing Hermione to roll her eyes. She shoved her hands into her pockets and was about to leave when he apparently caught sight of her.
“Professor Granger,” Draco called out in that stupid Slytherin drawl, “I do believe I have an appointment with you regarding Prefect duties. Is it your free period?”
“Yes,” Hermione said through gritted teeth, standing rooted in her spot.
“Excellent,” Draco chirped, turning to the group of swooning girls, “I will see you all next class. Now, off with you.”
“Ok!” they all said in unison and like drones, the girls left in a wave, giggling and she swore she heard one of them call him ‘Dreamy Draco.’
Another blech and a tad bit of vomit came up but she covered herself quickly by placing the back of her hand to her mouth as if she were yawning. Draco sat back at his desk, rather on top of his desk, and folded his hand over one knee. Hermione waited until the last ninny left and closed the door behind her. Might as well get this over with, she thought.
Her eyes lingered on Draco’s form for a second and she frowned. He, of course, looked like a bloody model wearing black slacks and a matching vest, a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons on done. His hair had fallen over his face and he looked somewhat tired but cheerful. Bloody prat. Hermione cleared her throat as she approached and stood at the edge of the row of tables in front of him.
“Professor Flitwick and Sprout want to take the Greenhouses and the grounds for the first week. Professor Snape and I have been patrolling the dungeons and library halls while our prefects take the Astronomy tower and upper buildings,” Hermione said rather quickly, her eyes locked onto the faded Dark Mark on his left arm.
Apparently, the man didn’t bother hiding his past and to flaunt it about. Ridiculous. Of course, it’d make him more popular. The thought of an attractive dangerous man in the halls was enough to set every hormonal teenager in a frenzy and cause all the boys to envy him. Hermione inhaled to continue but Draco interrupted by coughing into his hand.
“I assume that you and I are to take the dungeons and library then?” Draco asked, his eyes skimming over her own form.
While she had been wearing rather baggy robes, the way his eyes penetrated her made her cross her arms over her chest and pull the fabric closer to her. She noticed Draco smirk, as if he knew what she was doing, and leaned back slightly.
“I would gladly trade positions with Filch if that is what you want,” Hermione added, cringing at the thought of having to endure two hours of patrolling with Filch.
She had been naïve upon her first year and spent the entire time trying to shield her mind from the vulgarity he spoke of torture and dungeons. He wasn’t a bad guy by any means, just lonely, and bitter. Hermione never offered to do patrols with him again and was glad when Snape agreed to patrol with her.
“No. No.” Draco shook his head, “Dungeons and library it is…So, what time do I get to see you for our date?”
Hermione rolled her eyes, “You are impossible. First you flirt with your students…”
“Whoa there, Granger,” Draco said instantly, moving to his feet, “Before you make any more accusations…”
“I wasn’t making accusations, I was informing you of my observations,” Hermione said in a matter-of-fact tone, her hands dropped to her side when Draco’s face contorted. “What other observations could one make when you’re basically plastering yourself against a student who isn’t even fifteen yet?"
Her words irked him the wrong way and she liked it. She wanted to piss him off because she was now seeking vengeance for all the years of torment he had given her. Draco dug his heels into the ground, instantly reminding Hermione of a charging bull but he remained firmly planted on the stone floor.
“That is sick,” Draco snarled, “Sick and uncalled for.”
“What else do you expect me to think? Dreamy Draco?” Hermione snapped at him, hissing when she spoke the girls’ nickname for him, “You’re only doing so well because you’re good to look at. No one will ever take you seriously.”
“Oh really? If you’re so concerned with my credentials, why don’t you call up Scarhead?” Draco asked, his fists clenching, “Or did you not know that he was my partner when I was an Auror.”
“I don’t need to know your credentials to know you’re a terrible teacher and a horrible person,” Hermione said coolly, even though her face was flushed.
“When will you get off my back and finally accept that I’m a teacher. An equal?” Draco questioned, nearly spitting with venomous rage.
“When you accept that Muggle-borns are equals and house-elves are not slaves,” Hermione growled back at him, both standing toe to toe with one another.
“Fat chance,” Draco snapped, running his hand through his hair.
They were silent for a moment and Hermione was prepared to storm out of there in a blaze of triumph. But, she found herself startled when she heard the deep rumble of Draco’s laugh. She hardly came up to his shoulder, yet she wasn’t afraid of him. Draco’s cold eyes locked onto her hot chocolate gems and he moved toward her.
“We’re going to be at each other’s throats all the time, aren’t we?” Draco purred, backing Hermione up into a desk.
“Yes, until the day you leave.” Hermione wanted to sound angry but instead she found herself pressed against the edge of the table.
Her hands gripped onto the edge when Draco moved so quickly, his hands cupping her face, lips so close to hers. She could smell the mocha traces on his lips, his breath bathing her completely. What was worse, her lips parted in anticipation. She felt his beating heart against hers and her own pounded against her chest. Their eyes were locked onto one another, glaring daggers and hazy with lust. Draco pressed up against her, his lips hovering a mere centimeter hardly touching but not far away at all.
Both panted heavily at that moment and Hermione felt something stir in her stomach as he leaned down. Lower and lower until…Hermione jabbed him with her wand. Her hand had wrangled her wand free from her robes and pointed it square into Draco’s chest, right above his heart. His eyes widened only slightly but he didn’t move. Instead, a slow curving smirk appeared on his lips and sent shivers up her spine.
“You’re going to hex me for talking to you?” Draco breathed, his lips still hovering against hers.
“What do you call this kind of talking, Malfoy?” Hermione whispered, feeling his lips between her own every time she said a syllable.
“Close talking,” Draco merely replied, “Very close talking.”
“Well,” Hermione breathed, “Are we done?’
Draco pursed his lips, capturing her own for a split second, before he nodded, “Quite.”
They parted from one another awkwardly. Draco smirked as he leaned back against his desk, causing Hermione’s cheeks to flush slightly. She nodded and looked away, turning on her heel and strode out of the room.
As she reached the door, Draco called out, “Nine o’clock, Granger. Don’t be late!”
“Sod off,” Hermione replied over her shoulder, fighting back a smile as she closed the door shut.
She stood out in the hall and closed her eyes, reveling in the moment of strength she had. She wanted to kiss him the moment she saw him with the students. As much as it pained her to admit it, he had a flare with the students and they flourished under his tutoring. He looked so damn good with his sleeves rolled up, and the scent of cinnamon and mocha made her go weak in the knees.
Shaking her head, Hermione cleared her throat and strode across the halls, her robes billowing behind her. Like she’d ever admit she wanted to have more ‘close’ talking conversations with him. She was a bloody hypocrite.