Watching...

hey there. sorry for the long wait between chapters ^_- but ive been rather busy. Thanks for all the reviews and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Its a little bit on the tender side *sniffles*

----------------

Hermione stomped around her lounge room, annoyed with herself. She knew there had been no reason to say what she did to Ron, and it hurt her to think that she had hurt him. Unwillingly, her eyes flew to the apartment across the street and she wondered what Draco would be doing now. She wondered if Pansy was home. Her lips tingled as she remembered the kiss she had shared with Pansy, and the feeling of the other woman’s body writhing beneath her hands. Hermione shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

This was wrong.

“I should go see Ron and explain,” she muttered to herself, but did not move. She leant her head against the window, sighing, watching as her breath misted the glass. The lights were out in Draco’s apartment and a feeling of desolation crept over her. Shaking her head, Hermione pulled away from the window, intending to make dinner.

She jumped, a startled ‘oh’ escaping her mouth. Draco leant against the kitchen doorframe, his hair hanging messily in his eyes. His hands were full of take-out containers. Hermione smiled gratefully, watching as he turned and wandered into the kitchen without a word. She followed. Draco had put the containers down on the counter and he turned to face her, his face closed. The sight of him in her kitchen caused Hermione’s stomach to jump and before she knew what she was doing, she was across the room with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her face buried against his shoulder and she sighed in pleasure, enjoying the scent rising from his body. He always smelt so fresh. Trembling, she placed a light kiss on the skin of his neck.

Draco’s arms lifted, his fingers wrapping around Hermione’s upper arms and he slowly but gently pushed her away from him, a smile tugging at the sides of his mouth.

“I missed you too,” he whispered, bending his head to catch her lips gently. “I’m sorry if what I said upset you.”

Hermione nodded, her throat constricted and her head spinning. They stared at one another for a while, until she grew uncomfortable under his eyes. She had missed him, but wagered that he knew that already from her overenthusiastic response to his presence. She cleared her throat, taking a step back.

“You brought dinner?” she inquired and he nodded.

“A peace offering. Where are your plates?”

As Draco turned and began rummaging through her kitchen cupboard, Hermione sighed, causing him to look at her.

“You didn’t need to do that, make peace, I mean. I shouldn’t have said what I said to you,” she muttered. He shook his head.

“Forget it. We were both a little…heated that day. Let’s just enjoy our dinner. You still have that wine?”

Without waiting for a reply, Draco opened the fridge, fishing out the wine, while Hermione found them two glasses. Her hands were shaking badly and she thrust the glasses onto the bench, afraid they would fall from her numb fingers and splinter on the floor. Draco chuckled as he poured them a drink, but Hermione thought she detected a nervous edge to his repressed laughter. Wordlessly, he handed her a drink. Their fingers brushed and Hermione jumped, cursing herself as she felt a blush spread through her cheeks. Draco watched her carefully.

“Sorry. I can go, if you want.”

“No,” Hermoine blurted loudly, appalling herself. She shook her head while she gained control. “No, I’d like it if you stayed. I’ve had a … strange day.”

“I know,” Draco said softly, and Hermione’s mouth fell open. “Blaise told me. Where did you say the plates were?”

Blinking in disbelief, Hermione pointed a shaking finger at one of the cupboards, watching as Draco found two plates, followed by cutlery. He dished up their food in silence, a slight smile on his lips as he worked. He took out his wand and levitated both their meals to the lounge room, motioning Hermione forward with his head.

She went, floating and dazed, falling into a spot beside him on the lounge, her dinner drifting to her lap along with her cutlery. She sat and stared at nothing while Draco ate beside her.

“He told you!!” she eventually shrieked, stabbing at her food. Draco nodded, amusement evident on his face. Mortified, Hermione pushed her plate away, setting it on the coffee table.

“Don’t you like it?” Draco asked, sounding offended, and Hermione rolled her eyes, reaching for her wine.

“Lost my appetite.”

Draco laughed, the sound rich and childlike. He was clearly amused. “Granger, it’s not a big deal. Blaise tells me stuff like that. I always know when he’s fucked Pansy. He can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“So I suppose he told you about last week, then, too?” Hermione seethed, folding her arms.

“He did. I have been meaning to come by your office, actually,” Draco smiled, pushing his own plate away onto the coffee table. Hermione scowled at him.

“Ron came to visit me,” she said softly, wanting to change the subject from her and Blaise and Draco’s knowledge of what they got up too. “He found the note you left me, after that first night. He’s mad, of course, but now he knows.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Draco asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I’m just warning you, in case he tries to kill you or something,” Hermione replied. Draco snorted, evidently entertained by the whole idea. Suddenly he frowned, turning to look at her.

“You kept the note?” He raised an eyebrow and Hermione blushed.

“It’s not what you think,” she said tartly. “It was more of a … memento. A reminder that what had happened had been real.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding. “That’s so typical of you, Granger. Being so practical. I thought you’d want to think it was nothing but a dream.”

“Why would I do that?” Hermione asked, twisting her body on the lounge so she could see him better. “It was one of the, no the best night of my existence.”

“So far,” Draco mumbled under his breath, and Hermione hit him on the arm, not being able to help smiling. He caught her hand, bringing his fingers to his lips and kissing them lightly, Hermione’s heart jumping in her chest. What was he doing?

Draco’s lips trailed down her arm, stopping at the sleeve of her shirt. He pulled her close to him, kissing her neck, his mouth warm and comfortable on her skin. Hermione sighed, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the lounge. It was all too confusing, but it was definitely nice. Draco kissed below her ear, chuckling when she moaned, before he grasped her head between his hands, his lips finding hers. He kissed her deeply and passionately, until her head was spinning and she was gasping for air.

“Malfoy, what are you doing?” Hermione murmured against his mouth. He said nothing, just continued to kiss her, his lips trailing back down her neck, skimming over her collarbone. Hermione gave up thinking and starting feeling, her hands rising to bunch in his hair, pulling him closer to her. Draco’s arms went around her waist, lifting her off the lounge as he manoeuvred their bodies. He positioned himself on the floor, kneeling, keeping his lips on Hermione’s body, his fingers moving to the buttons on her white blouse. The tips of his fingers touched the skin on her stomach and Hermione gasped, falling back and letting him undo her shirt. She felt his lips touch her belly, gently; feather light kisses making her smile and her body tingle.

Draco’s hands slid up the inside of her calves, his fingers massaging the tired muscles. Hermione sighed in pleasurable relief. His fingers inched higher, towards her thighs, brushing the back of her knees and making her jump. She opened her eyes, looking down at him over the swell of her own breasts. The glint of lust in his eye was unmistakable.

“Draco…I’m tired. Really. I’m sorry,” she whispered, feeling guilty. He just nodded, kissing her knee, continuing to rub her legs. Hermione felt her eyes closing once more, her breathing deepening. She struggled, but her eyelids won the battle, remaining firmly closed as sleep started to take hold of her. She was vaguely aware of being picked up from the lounge and held in a pair of strong arms. Then they were moving, and then Hermione felt the familiar comfort of her mattress under her back. She opened her eyes, peeking into the semi-darkness.

Draco sat on the bed beside her, watching her with a smile.

“Thanks,” Hermione whispered. “When can I see you again?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Granger,” he replied softly, and then sighed. “Pansy…is seeing Blaise tonight. I told her I’d get out of her hair. I was welcome to stay, of course, and join in the fun, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to see you and apologise, and hopefully…”

“You can stay, Draco,” Hermione muttered, rolling onto her side. She noticed the sheets were already pulled down, and she also realised she was still dressed. “You have to do one thing for me first.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and what might that be?”

“Help me out of these clothes.”

He laughed, but quickly did as she asked, removing first her blouse and then her skirt. He sighed a little at the sight of her lying there in nothing but her underwear and Hermione blushed, wishing for once that she had chosen something a little more seductive than her usual sensible office underwear. Draco didn’t seem to mind, though, bending his head to plant a kiss on her stomach. She shivered, smiling, and arched her back so he could undo her bra. With a flick of his skilled fingers, it was gone, tossed away onto the floor with the rest of her clothes.

Draco’s hands moved down her body slowly, his fingers tickling, and Hermione giggled as he brushed her ribs. He linked his fingers under the top of her knickers and she lifted her hips, assisting as he pulled them down her body and over her legs. They joined the pile of discarded clothes.

Draco sat back and looked at her so intently Hermione began to blush. She reached for the sheet, making to pull it over her body but he stopped her hand, shaking his head.

“No, don’t. I want to look at you,” he murmured, his eyes tracing every inch of her exposed skin. Hermione had never felt so naked before. His gaze burnt where it touched her and she shivered again, her body hot and flushed. Just when she thought she could bear it no longer, he sighed, closing his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked him, her voice low and husky. He said nothing, just sat with his eyes closed. “Draco?”

“I never realised how beautiful you are.”

Hermione’s stomach twisted as the words left his mouth, a deep spasm resting in her belly and slowly spreading through her body. Her mouth was dry and she licked her lips, her heart pounding. To cover her embarrassment, she laughed.

“One of us if over-dressed,” she stated, sitting up swiftly. Draco opened his eyes, his lips twitching. He sat still as she reached forward and slowly undid the buttons on his shirt, pushing the fabric off his shoulders. She had never really taken the time to look at him, either, and she did so now, loving the strong curve of his arms, the swell of his shoulders and the flatness of his belly. She ran her fingers over him, dipping into every curve and fleck of muscle. He closed his eyes, his lips parting and she felt an overwhelming desire to kiss him.

Hermione pulled herself onto her knees, sitting before him, watching him closely as she traced the lines of his face, her fingers trembling over his lips. His eyes opened and she stared back at him, scared at the intensity in his face.

“Draco, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” He frowned slightly, but his voice was curious, interested.

Hermione shook her head. “I don’t know, but this is all rather…”

“Intimate?” he finished, the word a question and she nodded. He smiled. “ I can go.”

“No. I don’t want you to,” she whispered, reaching out to wrap her arms around his neck. “Stay with me. Please. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

His arms went around her and she felt him nod. Slowly, he lowered them back onto the bed, careful not to crush her with his weight. Holding her with one hand, Draco unzipped his pants, sliding them down his hips, Hermione using her feet to help him. The movement was slow, unhurried, and he watched her face the whole time, scorching her with his eyes until she felt like she was ash in his arms.

It was all too surreal. She kept waiting for him to laugh, to say something mildly insulting. But he didn’t. He remained silent as the last of his clothing dropped to the floor. Draco pulled the sheets up over them, still holding her with one arm. Hermione was aware at how fast and hard her heart was beating as he took her face in both his hands and she wondered if he could hear it. He kissed her, slowly at first, his lips moving gently over hers. It was a different kiss to the one he had given her in the lounge room. It was tentative, caring and the kiss of a lover.

His lips moved to her neck, his hands sliding down her body, over her shoulder, her elbow, the curve of her waist and hip. His fingers moved further, along the length of her thigh, stopping behind her knee. Gently, he lifted her leg, hitching it around his hip. Hermione gasped, the movement bringing their bodies close. She shifted under him, feeling the tip of his erection rubbing against her. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers burying in his hair as slowly, very slowly, Draco inched into her until he was fully inside.

Hermione waited, panting, but he did not move. His lips were at her neck, warm and moist and she wiggled her hips, a low growl rising from deep in his throat. Slowly, he began to move, gently pulling out and sliding back in, Hermione lifting her hips to meet him, until they settled into a strong but delicate rhythm. Draco’s arms slid under her, lifting her back from the bed, angling her hips so he could thrust deeper. She could feel the beginning of a powerful orgasm and closed her eyes, her head falling back. Draco reached up her back, his fingers finding the nape of her neck.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded and she obeyed instantly. The moment their eyes met, he growled, his movements increasing in speed and force, but still they were gentle, controlled. His eyes held hers, his face inches away. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and Hermione reached up, pushing it away. She brushed the tips of her fingers over his face, tracing his jaw. Not breaking eye contact, Draco caught one of her fingers between his lips, kissing it.

“Oh!” Hermione gasped suddenly, her back arching further, her neck twisting until it was almost painful. Her eyes began to close as her orgasm washed over her, but Draco shook his head.

“Look at me, Hermione, please,” he whispered, his voice strained. The tremor passing through her body increased at the sound of his voice, at the almost pained expression on his face. His eyes. Hermione could not look away from the raw power and emotion there. He continued to move against her, pushing her totally over the edge and as she cried out again, holding his gaze, Draco stilled, his mouth falling open. Her name escaped his lips as a whisper, and his face dropped to bury against her neck.

Hermione laid there, her whole body tingling, Draco’s weight pleasant and comfortable against her. She sniffed, her vision suddenly blurry, her body starting to tremble as she pulled the air into her lungs almost desperately. The wave of emotion that hit her was enough to make her dizzy, and a great sob fled from her lips. Draco’s head shot up and he looked at her in shock.

“You’re crying,” he murmured, untangling one of his hands from her back. He brushed his thumb gently across her cheek in wonder. She turned her face into his hand and kissed his palm, closing her eyes as the tears continued to fall. He kissed her forehead softly, rolling off her, pulling her with him until she curled against his side. His lips touched her forehead again and she fell into sleep.

***

Hermione opened her eyes in the morning to find him staring at her. His face still held wonderment, his fingers trailing gently along her bare arm. She smiled, rolling into his chest, his arms going around her instantly. He kissed her neck.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” Hermione sighed, snuggling against him. “What time is it?”

“I have no idea. Does it matter?” Draco replied, his fingers walking along her spine. They tangled in her wild curls.

“I have to go to work,” Hermione sighed, making to pull away, but he held her firmly.

“Take the day off,” he suggested. “You know spending the day with me will be more interesting than going to the office.”

“You want to spend the day with me?” Hermione was startled. She pulled back, looking into his eyes. He smiled, a light smile, flipping her hair.

“Sure.”

Her eyes narrowed, her uncomfortable suspicions flaring into life again. “Draco, please, what’s going on?”

He frowned. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately, Granger.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows and he sighed, falling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. She watched him closely, waiting. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Pansy moved out. I don’t know where she went and I realised I don’t care. I don’t love her; I don’t want to be with her. I don’t care,” Draco said emotionlessly. Hermione blinked, not sure what to say. She muttered a quiet sorry, but he only laughed, grabbing her and squeezing her ribs, tickling her until she begged him to stop it.

Gasping, she lay on her back, Draco’s head resting on her chest, his ear over her heart. Hermione lifted a hand and hesitantly touched his cheek. He sighed, his arms tightening around her.

“You really want to spend the day with me?”

“I said so didn’t I?” His voice was gruff, muffled by her breasts.

She thought about his offer for a moment, thought about what he had told her about Pansy, and wondered again at his motives. This Draco, the one lying in her bed in the early hours of the morning, was a different Draco to the one she had been sleeping with over the past couple of weeks. She blinked, trying to decide which one she preferred. There had been a definite advantage to the Draco who just wanted a shag every other night, although at times that whole arrangement had left Hermione feeling strangely empty and alone. Then, there was this Draco. Loving, kind, generous and seeming to want to be in her company. She stiffened suddenly, remembering the previous evening with wide eyes. That had not been a mere shag.

“What is it?” Draco asked, sitting up and looking at her. He swept the hair from the side of her face, his eyes curious.

“Last night…” Hermione began, not looking at him. “Draco…”

“I know,” he interrupted awkwardly. “I should have let you sleep.”

“That’s not what I was referring too,” Hermione muttered, frowning. Was it possible he did not remember? How could he not? Traitor tears pricked at her eyes and she had no idea why she was getting so upset. She sniffed, pulling out of his arms and sitting up, tugging her knees to her chest. She felt his shock and confusion as he sat up behind her.

Draco slid his arm around her waist, pulling her back to him, the warmth of his naked chest comfortable and secure against her skin.

“We made love, Hermione,” he whispered in her ear and she shivered. He did remember. He remembered everything. She gulped, rubbing at her face.

“I’m sorry I cried.”

He laughed softly and kissed her back. “Don’t be. I’ve never had that happen before. I thought I’d hurt you, but then I realised…well, in any case, I’m glad it happened.”

“Me too,” Hermione whispered back. They sat in silence, the air between them prickly with unsaid words and desires. Hermione’s head was spinning, and she had no idea what was going on, with either Draco or herself. She shook herself slightly, crawling away from his arms. He groaned.

“Come back.”

Shaking her head, Hermione reached for her night robe, wrapping it around herself. “I’m thirsty, and I need a shower. And if I’m skipping work I better call in with a reasonable excuse. I’ll tell them I’m not feeling well.”

Draco had climbed out of bed, in all his naked glory, and was standing before her. He wrapped his arms around her, slowly running his hands over her body. “You feel perfectly well to me,” he murmured.

Hermione rolled her eyes, pushing him away, and went to shower. When she got out, dried and dressed, Draco was in the kitchen. He had made coffee, and was staring with a vacant expression out the window, towards his own apartment.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked him timidly. He nodded, turning to flash her a smile that did not meet his eyes.

“I need to ask you something,” Draco said softly and she looked at him, waiting. “About Weasley. Are you still planning on getting back with him?”

Hermione shrugged, setting her cup down so he could not see how much her hands were shaking. Her face felt hot and her body weak, as if they’d spent the morning making love again. “After what I told him yesterday, I doubt he’ll speak to me again. I told him about us,” she added, watching Draco’s reaction carefully.

The blonde smirked. “Good.”