Musical Moments

POOR OL' BROKEN HEARTED ME

Lyrics : The Trews
Characters : JK Rowling
Disclaimer : Look, I wrote this chapter and that took all of my creative energy. You’ll forgive me this once if I don’t have a disclaimer, right? I mean, you all know I don’t the characters or the song…right? Oh…I figured since Hermione had her own chapter (sort of), Draco deserved one of his own. It’s only fair.

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

There's no sight she'd rather see
Than poor old broken hearted me

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

I tapped my foot impatiently, watching as the Hogwarts’ house elves scampered back and forth across the warm kitchen. I had class all morning and yet was apparently spontaneous enough to invite Hermione out on a picnic.

((What was I thinking?!?!))

So here I found myself, restraining the urge to bark out orders for the magical servants to hurry up. If Hermione found out I hadn’t made the basket myself, she’d be upset. If she found out that I had the elves do it, she’d be angry. If she found out that I yelled them, she’d be positively livid.

I could handle the upset and the anger…but seeing the Gryffindor Princess livid was one thing I never wanted to see again. My nose still ached when I thought about her right hook connecting with it.

Getting back to the present, however, I realized that Granger was upping the stakes of our game. She thought that a great set of legs entitled her to setting the rules. Little did she know that I was on to her. I knew that she was torn between giving into her baser desires or standing by her Gryffindor principles which shouted that I was to be trampled underneath those delicate heels she had taken to wearing.

Well, I had a surprise for her. I was going to play this game…our game…to my rules. No way was the bookworm going to best me at this. I wanted her…that hadn’t changed. But as per my rules, once I had her it would be over. End of story. No amount of leg could convince me otherwise.

I grabbed the basket offered by some elf whose name I didn’t know and whirled out of the kitchen without a word of thanks or gratitude. Let Granger hear about that!

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

I never been the kind of man to let a woman changes my plan
But all of that was history when she sho' nuff did this to me
Her lies they won me over quick
She ruled my mind, my heart, my dick
I took the line, the hook, the bait
And now I'm sick from what I ate and

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

“You’re early.” She said to me as I entered the deserted greenhouse.

“You’re earlier.” I fired back.

Hermione turned and smiled at me. I refused to melt…okay…maybe just a little melting was acceptable.

((Rules, Malfoy! This is a game…your rules.))

“Can I help?” Hermione asked as I set the basket down on a clean table.

“No.” I said a bit more sharply than I intended. She took a step back in surprise.

I plucked a pink rose lying on top of the blanket I had remembered to grab at the last moment and turned to face her.

“Here. This is for you.”

“Thank you.” She gently reached out for it and managed to take the delicate bloom without touching my own fingers. “It’s lovely.”

I simply nodded. Anything I said to that would have been terribly cliché and I wasn’t in the mood for that.

“So why the greenhouse?” She asked as I shook the blanket out and laid it on a bare piece of floor.

I smirked.

“Since you’re not courageous enough to eat at the Slytherin table and I’m not stupid enough to eat with your house, I had to come up with an alternate eating establishment.” I shrugged. It was honest enough.

“There are two other houses.” Hermione offered.

I raised my eyebrows up at that comment. The Gryffindor Princess had the good grace to blush. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, indeed!

“Besides,” I continued. “The last time I checked, it was still cold outside and it’s toasty warm in here. Unless, of course, you would prefer we picnic in a snow bank.”

“No…no…this is fine.” Hermione conceded. “What did you pack us?”

“Uhhh…food.”

“What kind of food?” She pestered.

I remained silent.

“Oh, Malfoy.” She sighed. “You had the house elves prepare this, didn’t you?”

“I had class this morning!” My argument sounded pathetic even to my own ears.

Hermione’s lips pursed in displeasure. Well, I could fix that, couldn’t I.

“And my attention was rather focused on planning on other things.” I continued.

“Like what?” Merlin but her voice actually sounded bored!

“This!”

Wrapping an arm around her, I pulled Hermione against me and started to devour her mouth. Suddenly, I realized that she had goaded me into this. Merlin! She made me kiss her! She...oh, sweet pumpkin juice…she just made me moan. But, I swear, I couldn’t help it…that delightful little tongue of hers was doing some pretty flexible maneuvers in my mouth.

((Ahem…your rules, Malfoy.))

Ah, curse my brain for kicking in at this point…and bless it, as well.

I slowly disentangled myself from Hermione and stepped back.

“I’m hungry.” I said simply.

“As am I.” Hermione took a step forward. Was she smirking?!?!

“Food.” I pointed at the basket. “We have only a short time before our afternoon classes start.”

Shrugging, Hermione gracefully lowered herself to the blanket. Her legs, exposed more due her short skirt, tucked under her.

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

There's no sight she'd rather see
Than poor old broken hearted me
Her mission is my misery
Poor old broken hearted me

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

“Thank you for handing in our essay, by the way.” Hermione said, swallowing a bite from her sandwich.

I nodded, aloof.

“Do I really button my shirts up so tight that you think I’m prissy?” Hermione asked.

“Pardon me?” I blinked.

“In the corridor, you were commenting on my skirt and blouse.” She explained.

“Ah, right, I remember.” I took a sip of my water. “I believe I also said that if your skirt was any shorter, all of Hogwarts would know what colour knickers you were wearing.”

“Today is pink.”

I blinked again.

“Bright pink.”

I coughed on my water.

Hermione looked at me, a faint smile traced across her mouth.

“Swallowed wrong.” I tried to explain.

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

The force of her magnetic pull was cruel and unusual
When she calls I wag my tail I'm harder than a coffin nail
A pilgrim on my bended knees
I'd cross the desert if it please you
Baby treat me as you will
Yours to bless, yours to kill

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

Hermione leaned across the blanket and rubbed my back. I stared at her in disbelief.

“Just breathe normally.” She whispered.

I nodded back dumbly.

“Better?”

I nodded again and glanced down.

“Your shirt is still too tight.” I smirked.

“Well, then, we can’t have that, can we?” Hermione laughed and began to undo a button…another button…and…wait, what this?!?!

I jumped across the space between us and began to close up the buttons. Hermione giggled.

“What are you doing, Malfoy?”

“Draco.” I muttered. “And I’m trying to make you decent.”

Hermione pouted at me. She actually pouted! At me! Her brown eyes laughed at me, though.

“But I’m not a pureblood, remember? There’s no way I’ll be decent in your eyes.”

“Fine, I’m making you as decent as possible.” I snapped, doing up the last button.

I leaned back and admired my handiwork.

“See something you like, Malfoy?”

“Draco.” I replied without thinking.

“See something you like, Draco?” Merlin, but when did I start finding her voice to be so alluring?

“As a matter of fact, I do.” I admitted. “I see something I want.”

“To bad you can’t have it.”

“Why not?” I demanded.

“Because you wouldn’t know what to do with it once you had it.”

“I beg to differ.”

“I thought Malfoy’s didn’t beg.”

“Figure of speech.” I paused. She was so close, I could kiss her right now. “Why won’t you give me what I want?”

“Because you don’t deserve me.” Hermione stopped. “No, that’s not completely true…it’s because I deserve better.”

“And, what, you think Pothead or Weasel is better than I?” I stared at her shocked.

“Who said I want one of them?” She fired back at me. “I deserve better than secret groping in dark closets or someone who merely wants me for a one-night stand in his bed.”

I had the good grace to flush at that.

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

There's no sight she'd rather see
Than poor old broken hearted me
So happy when I'm on my knees
Poor old broken hearted

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

“So what if you do?” I asked callously. “Why not give it a go until something better comes along?”

“Because you’ve admitted that you want me in your bed once. One time to satisfy your need and soil your sheets. I refuse to be treated in such a demeaning manner.” Hermione tilted her head. “And the flowers, while a lovely touch, are hardly enough to convince me to give your idea a go.”

“Instead then you’re going to torment me and give yourself to someone else?”

Hermione nodded slowly.

“You don’t look too convinced of the idea, Princess.” I remarked.

“It’s…difficult.” She shrugged, unsure of how to explain.

“It’s difficult being someone else…trying to be someone you’re not comfortable being…trying to live up to someone else’s expectations.”

Hermione nodded.

I crawled over to her and pulled her into my lap. She didn’t protest, but she didn’t exactly come eagerly, I noted.

“Princess, what I’m offering you is some fun. To figure out what those other girls are talking about…and that which you think you’re missing out on. At the same time, let’s face it…who else understands you as I do? I know you want fun and intelligent conversation. I know that you want to feel needed but protected at the same time. We’re having a picnic for lunch…that’s fun. You’ve admitted that I’m a half-decent potions partner. I’ve admitted that I need you.” My arms tightened around her and my voice became a growl. “And I protect what is mine.”

Hermione shook her head.

“I can’t, Malfoy…Draco. Do you know what Harry, Ron or any of the other male Gryffindors will do to you if they got wind of…us?”

I actually smirked at this.

“I can handle the male Gryffindorks. It’s the women that get under my skin…one in particular.”

“Oh.” Hermione blushed. “Any one I know?”

“Probably not as well as you should.”

Hermione looked confused.

“I thought you meant me…” She stammered.

“I did.” I leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. “You don’t know yourself as well as you should.”

“And you think that you’re the person to show me?” Hermione gave a quick laugh.

“I don’t know, but what have you got to lose?”

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

She'll get bored of me one day or I'll resolve to walk away
With good intent my road is paved but I'm not sure I want to be saved

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

“No strings.” I said. “Should either of us want to end this, the other will respect this wish.”

“Hah!” She squirmed in my lap. Well that certainly felt nice! “I have repeatedly told you that I don’t wish to be in your bed but you haven’t respected that.”

“Because I know you don’t mean it.” I grinned knowingly. “If you want to end anything between us…and you truly mean it…I will respect your wishes.”

Hermione gnawed her lower lip. I was fascinated by the whole process of that pink flesh being worked over by her teeth.

“I need to think about this.” She said finally.

“No surprise there.” I chuckled. Hermione glared at me.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“No.” I shook my head. “You think about everything. Everything is planned out in your eyes…even this delightfully short skirt and tight blouse and high heels. You have a plan for using them…despite your protests to the contrary. When was the last time you did something spontaneous?”

Hermione frowned.

“Just last night! Instead of my normal bubble bath, I…”

I started to rock with laughter.

“What?” Her eyes narrowed. It was a good thing she was still in my lap. It prevented her from getting a good angle to punch me.

“Bubble bath?!?!” I gasped, laughing. “You think a bubble bath is spontaneous?!?!”

“Well, what would you call spontaneous?” She demanded.

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

There's no sight she'd rather see
Than poor old broken hearted me
Her mission is my misery
Poor old broken hearted
There's no sight she'd rather see
Than poor old broken hearted me
So happy when I'm on my knees
Poor old broken hearted

*** DM+HG *** HG+DM ***

“This.” I gathered her up and pulled her tight against me. Instead of kissing her lips, however, I swooped down on the delicate flesh joining the neck and shoulder. It was covered by her shirt which I had stupidly buttoned up all the way only minutes earlier. Kicking myself inwardly for such foolishness, I bared my teeth and nipped her through the cotton.

“Or this.” Reaching over, I fingered the hem of her short skirt and flipped a handful of material up.

“Hey!” Hermione gasped in shock.

“Yup…they are bright pink.” I confirmed the colour of her knickers and chuckled. “See? Spontaneous isn’t bad.”

A somewhat predatory look crossed her face and for a moment I was actually taken aback. There were moments – like now – when I believed that Hermione Granger could actually hurt me. The idea of a Pureblood being brought down by the likes of her was laughable, but occasionally, I swear, she seemed to possess the power to take down the Dark Lord single-handedly.

In a flash, I found myself on my back and very soft Gryffindor Princess on top of me. She stared down at me with a slight smirk…a very scary slight smirk…and I wondered what deviousness her brain was plotting. I some times think that the Sorting Hat made a mistake her…a big mistake. But she did have the loyalty that most Slytherins failed to exhibit and Gyrffindors exuded to a sickening degree.

While focusing on her eyes and her smirk, I hadn’t noticed her hands. I gulped visibly when I felt them on my belt buckle and could hear the sounds of the metal clasp coming undone. Coming undone in a similar manner to me.

“Uhhh…Princess? Hermione? Aren’t you moving a little fast? I mean, yes, I want you…but I wasn’t thinking here…in the dirt…” It was my turn to squirm a bit. Although, I couldn’t tell you if it was in delight or terror.

((Holy Merlin! There go the button and zipper! She’s not even looking down at what she’s doing! Hey…wait a sec…))

I frowned.

“Have you done this before?” I asked, suddenly curious as her lack of innocent behaviour.

Still smiling at me, she shook her head in the negative.

Ah, that was my Princess…always a quick study.

“I just thought,” she mused out loud, “That if you could see my knickers, I could see yours.”

“If you were curious, I could have simply told you.” I hissed, as my pants were tugged down. My traitorous hips aided her in her mission.

“Not the same.” Hermione chuckled.

She looked down and frowned. She actually frowned!

((No woman looks at me and frowns!!!))

“Green.” Hermione shook her head. “How utterly Slytherin. Tell me, Malfoy, don’t you have any other colours besides green, black, white and grey?”

“I’m not going to wear pink, if that’s what you’re insinuating.” I huffed.

Hermione climbed off of me and looked at me.

“Don’t go anywhere.” She smiled sweetly and disappeared into the backdrop of green leafy plants and humid air.

I assumed she was going to look for a flower or plant or something to test out its tickling properties on me. No complaints from me. Not many people know this, but I actually enjoy a good tickle session…if done properly. Being the good Malfoy I am, I lay there waiting for her…on the blanket…on the ground…on my back…trousers down…

“Oh my!”

I bolted upright and saw Professor Sprout staring at me in astonishment, a hand over her gaping mouth.

Hermione had just played me. Played me well, too, I might add.

((Turn about is fair play.))

I pulled up my pants and started to prepare an explanation for the woman who loved weeds.