A Werewolf\'s Love

Chapter 7

Hermione swallowed hard, her mind working frantically. She hadn’t noticed that the cloak had fallen off, and one glance backwards told her it was stuck in the door. She couldn’t really think of a single excuse for why she happened to follow him all the way into the room.

Draco cleared his throat and worked his face into a sneer. “I asked what you were doing in here, Granger,” he snapped, inwardly feeling guilty of being this rude to her. But he needed to keep up his appearances, for now anyway.

Hermione took a deep breath and stood up straight. “I could ask you the same thing, Malfoy,” she replied coolly, remembering to sound as if she disliked him. Her newfound attraction couldn’t be made apparent to the boy, and neither could her sudden knowledge of his affliction.

“I could tell you that it’s none of your business,” Draco shot back. “Don’t you have classes to attend so you can jump up and down every time someone asks a question?”

“No,” Hermione replied coldly, wondering why she wasn’t attempting to address him in a kinder manner.

Draco smirked. “What, tired of being the teacher’s pet?” he asked in a teasing tone.

Hermione unintentionally blushed. “I’m not the teacher’s pet,” she said. “Now, I’ll ask you again. What are you doing in here?”

Draco’s smirk widened and he sighed contently. “Not until you answer my question first, Granger. As it appears to me, you followed me in here. Which means that you must have some sort of objective. Why should I reveal my reasons before you’ve revealed your motive?”

Hermione blinked in surprise. She didn’t think Draco was capable of thinking on such a high level, almost even with her thinking level. But then again, he was currently keeping the whole of Hogwarts in the dark about his being a werewolf. She silently wondered what his reaction would be if he found out she knew. Before she could ponder this anymore, Draco spoke up again.

“As much fun as I’m sure this is going to be, Granger, I’d like for you to leave,” Draco said. “I came in here for a purpose. That purpose can’t be completed with you in here.”

A smirk, one to rival Draco’s, graced Hermione’s face. “Oh, no. I can’t do that, now, can I? I want to know what you’re doing in here. Leaving would only allow you to win and leave me in the dark forever.”

“That sounds about right,” Draco replied with a nod. “And that’s how it’s going to happen. Now leave.”

Draco inwardly wondered why he wanted her to leave. His attraction to her was intense, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. He supposed his reasoning was that the longer she was in there, the more he wanted her. But he knew that it couldn’t happen. Hermione wasn’t interested in him. She usually made that much clear.

“No,” Hermione said, her smirk widening enough to match his own.

Draco jumped up rapidly, his face within an inch of her own. “Are you defying me?” he hissed, inwardly flinching from using one of his father’s well-worn phrases. As much as he didn’t want to hurt Hermione, he needed to remember that any faults in his cold demeanor would be recognized immediately. He needed everything to run smoothly.

“Yes, I am,” Hermione said satisfactorily, trying to keep her face from reddening from such close contact.

After several seconds of glaring at each other, Draco turned on his heel, grabbed his leather boots, and marched towards the door. Right before he walked out, he glanced back over his shoulder and smirked.

“You’re late,” he said smugly as the bell overhead rang. And with that, he walked out.

Hermione stood there for several minutes, her chest heaving up and down. The events of the past few minutes were running through her head, fighting with her on what was going on. She had been so close to Draco Malfoy that she could practically taste his breath. It made her want more. But she couldn’t have more. She dropped onto the bed with a sigh, remembering how he had laid there. But when she sat up, she noticed something: Draco had left his leather jacket. She picked it up with a smile and sniffed it deeply, recognizing his scent. She folded it under her arms and headed straight for the common room, not intending to give the jacket back to Draco.

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“Pansy, we need to talk to you,” Crabbe grunted at lunch. Draco was still missing, but they assumed he was in his dorm like always.

“What about?” Pansy asked, looking around to see if Draco was coming.

“Me and Goyle think something’s up with Malfoy,” Crabbe said. “Don’t you think it’s funny how he’s been missing on the full moon nights?”

“Not at all,” Pansy replied coldly. “He’s got detention and you know it.”

Goyle snorted. “You think he’s just got detention? Please. I think it’s bigger than that.”

“You think what’s bigger than what?” Blaise asked, sitting down in between them.

“We think maybe Malfoy is-” Goyle began, but Pansy cut him off.

“Have you seen Draco?” she asked hopefully.

Blaise nodded. “He was sleeping when I went up to the dorm a few minutes ago. He looks really ill. Anyone know why?”

“That’s what I was just saying,” Crabbe said impatiently. “We think Malfoy is-”

“Do you think he’d mind if I went up to see him?” Pansy asked, cutting across Crabbe, who glared at her.

“Doubt it,” Blaise answered with a shrug. “Let’s go up there now. I’m not hungry for this elf-made crap anyway,” he added, looking at the food in disgust.

And with that, Blaise and Pansy headed off to the Slytherin common room, leaving Crabbe and Goyle looking deeply annoyed and resentful.

At the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron were having a discussion of their own.

“Where do you think Hermione is?” Harry asked quietly. “She didn’t show up for any of this morning’s lessons.”

“Do you think maybe Malfoy did something to her?” Ron asked angrily. “He wasn’t in any of his lessons either.”

“I don’t think Malfoy has the guts to attack Hermione,” Harry replied. “He knows she’d destroy him in an instant.”

“I don’t know about that,” a voice said from behind them. Harry and Ron whipped around. Ginny came and sat next to them, ignoring the calls of several different guys.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked curiously.

“I mean that I don’t think Hermione would destroy Malfoy. At least, not right now,” Ginny replied. “She hasn’t really been sleeping much. She’s been coming up to bed at weird hours and I never see her when I get up in the mornings.”

“Huh. I wonder why she’s been skipping on sleep,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Maybe she’s just really busy with her workload.”

“Speaking of workloads,” Ron began, swiveling around to face Ginny. “What’s this I hear about you having two boys last night?”

“I thought I told you that if you pry into my sexual life I was going to make you wish you were still able to have one,” Ginny answered coolly. “You know our deal: you be happy about my conquests and I help you pass all your classes. It’s a very fair trade-off.”

“I know,” Ron replied. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t find it a little odd that you had two one after the other.”

“Get over it,” Ginny said shortly. “Anyway, I don’t think you two should bother Hermione about what’s going on right now. Wait til she’s caught up on some sleep before asking.”

“But she’s skipping her lessons,” Harry pointed out. “That means something major’s up.”

“She’s skipping her lessons?” Ginny repeated sharply, her eyebrows contracting. “Hmm. I’ll have to ask someone about that.”

“Talk about not prying with Hermione,” Ron muttered after Ginny walked away. “So, do you think she’ll show up for dinner?”

“I doubt it,” Harry said. He looked at his watch. “Come on, let’s go to Potions. Maybe she’s already in there.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Draco laid in his bed, contemplating what had went on with Hermione. He wasn’t sure exactly why they had both reacted the way they had. He was hoping that maybe, next time, if there was a next time, the two of them in that same room would have a much more fulfilling outcome.

But for now, Draco had more important things to focus on, like the last full moon of the month. Just one more night of hell and he was safe for the month. He had already decided on his cover: stuff pillows into his sheets, like Muggles do, and sneak out to go down to the Forbidden Forest again. He just hoped that his transformations and the long nights in between would get better as time passed. Because, no matter what anyone said, being a werewolf was NOT fun. And in Draco’s case, being a werewolf was just like living in hell. A hell that he wasn’t sure he would be, could be rescued from. He didn’t know anyone who wouldn’t care he was a werewolf. Well, for now, at least.