Kisses in the Dark

This story was originally written by Beauxbatons22 who has graciously allowed me permission to rewrite and finish it! The original story (The Dark One) is still posted on Beauxbatons22’s account so I strongly recommend you show her some love!
http :// www . fanfiction . net/u/900199/Beauxbatons22

_________________________________________________________________________________________
A/N: I don’t think you guys would believe me if I told you how… ecstatic I get when I receive a review. It’s almost embarrassing how happy I get. So, for those of you who have taken the time to let me know how this story is going so far: Thank you a million times over!! Your comments make me laugh, make me smile and make me want to keep writing! So thank you!!
_________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 3

It was seven thirty when Hermione arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning. Her gaze went straight to the Slytherin table, and she exhaled in relief when she spotted just how empty it still was. In fact, most of the Great Hall was fairly void of students except those – like her – who were early risers. But her one and only concern was running into Draco, a fate she’d managed to avoid thus far by sneaking out of common room at the crack of dawn in hopes of evading the sexy Head Boy.

She winced inwardly at her traitorous thoughts. Draco Malfoy was definitely not sexy, unless he was naked… in the shower with his silky tresses damp and falling around his…

Shut up, stupid voice!

Several of the first years scattered when she marched up to the Gryffindor table and slammed down onto the bench, muttering like a crazy person under her breath.

She snatched up a piece of toast and tore into it with her teeth, still grumbling around the morsel in her mouth.

“What are you looking at?” she demanded, catching a pair of second years eyeing her as if she were some mad half-troll.

The two shook their heads, hurriedly getting up and moving further down the table without glancing back at her.

Snotty-nosed brats! She thought miserably to herself. They had no idea what she was going through! They didn’t have to worry about running into the object of their abhorrence at every turn. They didn’t have to worry about imagining them naked or worse, having him imagine her naked!

Oh dear God… did Draco imagine her naked? What could he possibly think? She was a far cry from Pansy’s curvy figure or Millicent’s willowy silhouette. She was short, with round hips and mediocre breasts. She was soft, not toned or athletic like Ginny. She didn’t exactly spend a lot of time exercising and she hadn’t been blessed with supermodel genes.

Oh for the love of all that was holy, why couldn’t she be sexy? Why couldn’t she be cool and confident like the other girls? And why the hell wasn’t there a book about this sort of crap? Draco probably had a good laugh after she’d run off. She could only imagine the type of things he’d told his friends about her.

She suddenly felt humiliated to the point of tears. The single bite of bread lodged in her throat and she had to swallow several times to get it to go down. The hurt swelling inside her chest was baffling. She couldn’t understand it.

On one hand, she was telling herself that she didn’t care what Draco thought of her body, while on the other she felt crushed that he found her repulsive – even though he hadn’t actually said so… to her knowledge.

Her body hadn’t always been a sore spot for her and it irked her that up until this past summer that it had never even bothered her. She’d always concealed it so well beneath her thick, bulky robes. But that had changed when she’d spent the summer at the Burrow and Ginny had talked her into sunbathing in a two piece suit. The boys had looked mortified by the sight she made.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Ron had hissed, glancing up and down the foyer as if expecting someone to be watching, the tips of his ears blazing bright red.

“A bathing suit!” she’d snapped confidently, but still feeling the prickle of self-consciousness creeping along under her skin. “What’s wrong with it?”

Ron had blinked as if she were crazy. “What’s wrong with it? You’re bloody naked is what’s wrong with it and it doesn’t even fit you properly!”

Hermione glanced down at the twin triangles of fabric stretching over her breasts and strapping up and around her neck and back. The bottoms pressed and molded along the curves of her hips and bottom, tucking a little too intimately into her private places, leaving her tummy, legs, shoulders, back and most of her chest exposed.

“Geez, you’re going to give mom a heart attack with that thing!” Ron laughed. “You should stick with your robes.”

The boys had nearly pissed themselves laughing when she’d bolted back into the bathroom to change. She could hear their loud guffawing and cruel words the whole time she tore the material off and replaced it with her clothes. She told herself it was stupid to let what they said bother her, but they were her best friends and boys on top of that which meant that they knew what a sexy girl was supposed to look like, and clearly she didn’t fit that mold. After that, her imperfections were all she could see. She was too soft, too pale, and too ordinary.

But it had confused her when Harry and Ron removed their clothes and leapt into the pool they’d transfigured from the bird’s bath with only their swimming trunks. Their bodies were even worse than hers. Pale, slightly flabby on Ron’s part, so what right did they have to make fun of her when they were completely boring to look at themselves?

Seeing them leaping around, having fun while she roasted under her jeans and t-shirt had been the last straw to break the camel’s back and she had promptly blasted a massive hole on the side of the pool and hexed both boys so they had no control over their tongues for the remainder of the day. Watching Molly scowled them every time they blurted something inappropriate was the joy of her summer.

Regardless of her payback, she still hated going anywhere without her robes. She kept wondering if maybe Ron and Harry had been right. What if she was hideous? She just couldn’t bear it if someone like Draco, someone who was used to seeing the bodies of some of the most beautiful girls in school, saw her completely exposed like that.

Across the Great Hall, the sound of footsteps echoed throughout the otherwise silent chamber. All heads turned in time to watch the Rat Brigade stomp in followed by their leader.

At the sight of Draco, Hermione swallowed hard at the anxiety that tightened in her chest. She could scarcely breathe by the time his silvery eyes roamed the rows of heads and settled on hers. He held her gaze for an entire heartbeat before turning away and marching to the Slytherin table.

Only when she could no longer fall victim to his impenetrable stare did she exhale the air locked in her throat. For some unknown reason, she couldn’t stop trembling, her gaze kept darting to the other table, just waiting for one of them to glance up and smirk or say something about the previous night. But no one took any notice of her at all. Draco never even glanced up.

Little-by-little, the apprehension wore away and she quickly sunk back into a state of near calm. It didn’t stop her from tossing periodic glances over at the other table, but she was less likely to jump out of her skin, not even when Harry and Ron shuffled into the Great Hall looking sleepy and disheveled. They offered her a grumble that was meant as a greeting and slumped into the seat across from her.

It was halfway through watching Harry nearly doze into his eggs and Ron plow through half the items on the table with the appetite of a starved person that they received their timetables for the year.

Hermione skimmed hers, pleased to see all her courses were in the advanced classes she’d requested the year before and she had one free period just after lunch, which gave her plenty of time to do her homework and review for afternoon classes.

“Why do we always have potions with Slytherin? And why does it seem like that’s always our first class?” Ron groaned, tossing his page aside and not caring when it soaked up the grease from the plate of bacon it had landed on.

Hermione shrugged, not really caring which class was first. She had bigger problems. “I have almost every class with him!” Hermione murmured to herself, wanting to cry, to sulk, to kill the blond Adonis… Slytherin that had quickly become the tribulation of her existence.

How was she supposed to face him in every class?

The same way you’ve been facing him the last seven years! A sensible voice pointed out in her head.

True! She’d simply ignore him! How hard could that be?

“Well, if all else fails, we can always take Malfoy to the Forbidden Forest, knock him unconscious and leave his sorry ass there for something to find!” Harry suggested with a smirk worthy of a Slytherin.

Ron was right aboard with him, beaming from ear-to-ear. “Maybe Aragog will find him!”

“No!” Hermione said firmly. “Absolutely not! Malfoy will not hesitate to deduct points from both of you if you dare go near him!”

Harry and Ron looked at each other, smiles growing rapidly on their faces.

“That’s why we have you, Hermione.” Harry said pleasantly.

“You can do the same right back to him!” Ron said.

“Forget it! I’m here to maintain order, not help you two misfits cause even more trouble! Now come along. Potions is about to begin!”


****

What a disaster! Draco though much later as class ended an agonizing two hours later and all students happily hurried from the dungeons for lunch. How could Snape do this to him? He always though the greasy git liked him more than that. But it just went to show that even your closest ally can turn on you and that was exactly what the Potions Master had done the minute he’d charged into the classroom, cutting off all whispering instantly.

He’d turned to the class, dark eyes glowing against his scowling face. “You will be placed in groups of two! This partner will be with you for the remainder of the year!” he growled, making most brighten up at the idea of working with their friends for the rest of the semester. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

There was a rustle as people rose and hurried to join their teammates. Draco merely glanced at Theo and got a silent nod.

“No, this simply will not do,” Professor Snape’s sarcastic drawl drew the attention of everyone in the room and they watched as the bat of the dungeon loomed menacingly over the Golden Trio. “I think it is time that we cut the cord that binds you three,” he said, smirking coldly. “Ms. Granger, you will join Mr. Malfoy. Potter, with Nott and Weasley, you will be with Ms. Parkinson.”

Six protesting voices chimed through the air and were instantly silenced with just a look from the frightening Professor.

“Do it now or you will all fail!”

The Slytherins didn’t move. Why should they? They waited for the Gryffindors to get out of their seats and make their way across the room to join the group across the chamber.

The object of his every thought dropped her bag down on Draco’s desk and slumped into the chair across from him. She kept her brown eyes down, concentrating on removing her books from her pack and setting them methodically facing his.

Draco watched her, noting how slender her fingers were around her quill and how dainty and feminine her scripture was across her parchment. But what he noticed the most was her absolute refusal to glance his way. He could have sworn everything and everyone in the room got her attention except him. It would have been amusing if he didn’t know why.

Unconsciously, his gaze maneuvered down the front of her white button up dress shirt, lingering where the soft material stretched over her breasts with every inhale. He recalled how they had been pressed against her palm the previous night, making the creamy mounds appear plump and… heaven help him… succulent. Images of them hadn’t left his mind for a minute all day and most of the night. All he could think was getting his hands on them, just to see if they were really as soft and full as they’d looked in those brief few minutes.

Fuck!

This was becoming ridiculous! He needed to regain control! There was no way he… he was a bloody Malfoy for fuck sakes! He could have any girl he wanted with just a snap of his well-manicured fingers, so why the hell did he want this… this… her!

He didn’t! He didn’t want her! Why would he?

“Hey, you okay?” Theo nudged Draco sharply with his bony elbow.

“Fine!” he snarled with more force than necessary, wincing when his friend eyed him with surprise and doubt. “Fine,” he repeated, crossing his arms over the desk and looking away.

“Now, for your other pairs! Nott and Potter with Malfoy and Granger. Weasley and Parkinson with Crabbe and Goyle…”

Draco didn’t listen to the rest. Instead, he watched as Theo and Potter moved to join him and Hermione. At least he was with Theo. He would have been pissed if he wound up with the whole Golden Trio.

“Now that you are all in your groups, you will come up with a potion. Then, you will switch potions with the two other people in your group. They will have to find a way to block the potion, or create an antidote. Questions?” No one raised their hands, knowing he wouldn’t care. “Go!” he barked at them, and immediately chatter began on how to make their potion, and what type of potion they should make.

Draco turned to Theo, determined to keep on top of his game by avoiding all conversations with the two Gryffindors as much as possible. “We’ll create the Draught of Living Death—”

“That doesn’t have a cure,” Hermione interrupted him, still staring at her parchment with a haughty expression on her face. “I think we should try something like—”

“I know what I’m doing, Granger!” he snapped, infuriated that she could continue to affect his traitorous body and insult him at the same time.

Eyes of liquid honey shot up to his with a glare worthy of… well, a Malfoy. “Clearly you do not, Malfoy, or you wouldn’t be suggesting something so outlandish!”

“Excuse me, but who has top marks in potion?” he sneered, lips curling back in a smug smirk.

Her tiny, pointed chin jolted up a fraction in a gesture that would have made him proud with the arrogance it portrayed, if it didn’t exasperate him. “I do, actually. You have second place.”

He saw red. “How dare you suggest that I would come second to you?!”

The haughty little chit smirked! She actually smirked! At Him! What the hell!

“If it makes you feel any better, it’s not just potions I’m better at.”

“What?” he roared, grabbing the attention of several of the students around them. “That’s bullshit!”

She arched a questioning brow while crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. “Is it?”

“Actually, you’re both tied—”

“Shut up, Nott!” they both shouted on unison, never breaking eye contact with the other.

Good God, she looked delicious when she was smug… no! He did not just think that! And he most certainly did not just want to leap across the table, grab her and…

“We’re doing the fucking draught!” he bellowed, slamming his fist on the table and knocking over his ink bottle. “I don’t care what you have to say about it! You’re going to be at the library tonight! End of story!”

Now, he sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall melting into the usual routine of eating and trying to act bored and indifferent while he was almost painfully aware of the Muggleborn across the room.

She sat between those idiotic friends of hers. But while they stuffed their faces – or rather Weasley did – she sat in blissful ignorance, methodically flipping through her potions book.

He knew she was searching ways to cure the Draught of Living Death, and he knew she wouldn’t find one, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. So what if she’d been right about there being no cure? He wasn’t going to admit that to her or anyone! Malfoys were never wrong!

“What’s wrong with you?” Theo asked, breaking him from his heated of concentration.

“Nothing!” he snapped, turning his murderous glare down at his plate. “Why?”

Theo shrugged. “You’ve been moody all day. Don’t tell me your first night with the delectable Hermione Granger was that tedious.”

Draco sneered at the remark. “Don’t ever use delectable and Granger in the same sentence again!”

Theo swept back his shaggy, black tresses from his soft, brown eyes and glanced over at the witch in question. “I don’t know, mate, she’s…” he trailed off, whistling softly under his breath. “I certainly would not mind being stuck with her for the night.”

It took a lot of convincing on Draco’s part to restrain the urge to slap his friend’s face into the bowl of mash potatoes. Instead, he shot to his feet, screwing a look of pure annoyance on his face and responded.

“Shouldn’t you be kissing Potter’s ass, Nott?”

Theo smirked at his friend’s biting retort. “I’d rather be kissing her ass, but if Potter is the way to go to get there… I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

“While I think your father would love to hear that, I’m going to the library to do some actual work.”

From the corner of his eye, he watched as Hermione closed her book and rose to her feet. He wondered what she was up to while circling the Slytherin table towards the doors and was surprised when she tucked away her things and started in the same direction.

He picked up his pace, not because he was trying to reach the middle at the same time as her, but because he wanted to beat her to the door. After all, Malfoys always went first.

They reached the doors at the same time, coming to a halt when they nearly collided.

“Watch where you’re going, Granger,” he muttered. “Where are you going anyway?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m going to the library,” she answered, spearing her hip with one fist as if challenging him to make something of her destination.

“Good. You can start on the project,” he conceded, crossing his arms.

Her frown was instant. “Excuse me? Why do I have to start the project? Why can’t you? This was your idea!”

“Because I’m the team leader,” he replied smoothly, picking a piece of lint off his robes. “I’m merely here to supervise.”

“Supervise. My. Ass. Malfoy!” she snarled, brown eyes flashing, pink lips pulled back into a growl.

He smirked down at her, resisting the little voice in his head pointing out how sexy she looked when she was furious. “Are you offering, Granger?”

The delicate shade of red that stained her cheeks only fueled the urge brewing inside him to reach out and touch the smooth slope.

“You’re a disgusting pig, Malfoy!” she barked. “And you are coming to the library with me or… you’re coming!”

Much later when he was reflecting on the events of that day, Draco told himself that when she grabbed his hand and dragged him forcibly to the library, the reason he didn’t pull away was because he didn’t want to make a scene. Letting her think she had won was the only way he could get her to shut up and get some work done. It had nothing to do with how nice her soft skin felt against his or how… comfortable the gesture felt. That was just a silly notion and… it wasn’t how he felt at all. In fact, he couldn’t wait until they reached the dusty library where she abruptly released him and headed off to find them the necessary books. He definitely didn’t feel the tingly sensation spread across his palm and up his arm.

Nope. The Muggleborn didn’t affect him in the least.

_________________________________________________________________________________________
A/N: There you are, my lovies. I hope you liked this chapter and I promise tons of juicy… naughty things for the upcoming chapters (Grins devilishly)
Loved it? Liked it? Hated it? Let me know!!