Nicest Thing

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A/N: This is a rewrite thanks to katiekrm’s review. I don’t know WTF I was doing when I wrote chapter 9 before. Shoot me full of gilly water and have Dobby smash a pot over my head! Hopefully this one is better!

Song:
Lily Allen – The Fear
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q-wGMlSuX_c

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Ginny leaned back and nodded, her bottom lip protruding only slightly. Her eyes seemed to be trying to read Hermione’s otherwise calm and collected face.

“Ok.” Ginny shrugged, “Ron has had his knickers in a twist over all of this. You know he and Malfoy aren’t exactly on friendly terms…”

“Yes, I know,” Hermione said with a mild sigh of relief, “He sent me three howlers in the span of two hours asking if I had eaten dragon dung or some oddity.”

“As long as this is nothing,”

“It’s not anything, Ginny. I promise.” Hermione was quick to interrupt, “Draco and I aren’t a couple…at all.”

She turned and spotted Harry alone, returning with Ginny by her side. Ginny looked around as well, wondering obviously where Draco had gone.

“Where’d Draco run off to?” Ginny asked, linking her arm with Harry, “I need to get a statement for the Prophet.”

Harry stared at Hermione with almost angry emerald eyes, causing both her and Ginny to quirk their eyebrows. He cleared his throat and looked down to his wife, “Pansy Parkinson arrived. He went to pay her a visit.”

“Oh, right. Well I can go ask Madam Nash for a statement,” Ginny said with a nod, pulling Harry with her, “Owl me later, ok ‘Mione?”

“Yeah,” Hermione replied, looking to Harry, “Bye Harry. It was nice seeing you…”

“Good night, ‘Mione.” Harry replied with a curt nod, slinging his arm around Ginny as they were basically attacked by Madam Nash.

She looked around and sat at the open chair fiddling with the string of her purse. Draco was nowhere to be seen and she felt the sudden pang of guilt. Why had she lied to Ginny? She was better off telling her the truth, she didn’t know if she was in love with Draco…but she was starting to fall in love with him.

Hermione sat in her spot for a good half hour before she decided to move and search for Draco. Maybe he had been detained by Madam Nash after saying hello to Pansy. Her mind was scolding her – telling her something was wrong and off. She passed several reserve players who were passed out by the punch bowl, which she had a feeling was spiked heavily with alcohol. Mr. and Mrs. Malvini sat at the edge of one table; Mimsy fanned her pale stick neck with a folded menu while Theodore chatted up some other player she recognized as the Chaser and captain of the team.

Frowning slightly, Hermione walked to the back rooms looking for the loo. She stopped when she heard a bright shrill squeal that sounded terribly like Pansy Parkinson did when she once caught her in the throws of passion with Blaise Zabini during their sixth year. Her brain told her not to inch a step closer, that it was a private matter, but the little devil on her shoulder urged her to see what was going on. The Gryffindor’s lion curiosity was overwhelming and before she could think, she had pulled back the large sliding door to what appeared to be a hidden waiting room.

Her eyes bulged and she felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. Pansy was leaning up against the wall with her leg slung over the hip of none other than Draco Malfoy. His hair was mussed and lips puffy, as were hers, apparently they had quite a lovely snogging session while she spent her entire time searching for the mook. Pansy’s eyes glanced toward Hermione and she quickly pulled her skirt down and tried to cover her breasts, which were spilling out of a very lacy purple bra.

“Granger!” Pansy snarled, pushing Draco from her, “Don’t you have any manners? What a busy-body!”

Draco didn’t look at her, but she wanted him to. She stood there waiting for him to look at her, but he didn’t. He kept his eyes strained on Pansy as she fussed with her clothing.

“What…Dra…” Hermione’s mouth dropped and she tried to speak but nothing came out. Her throat had caught and she could hardly breathe. Burning tears erupted in the corner of her eye but she fought them back.

“Sod off, Pansy.” Draco growled, as he pulled from Pansy and fixed his tie.

He pushed past Hermione and re-entered the large ballroom. Pansy fixed her dress and poked her tongue out at Hermione as she pushed past her as well. She didn’t know how long she stood there for, her mouth gaping like a large mouthed bass before her mind snapped back into reality. She slammed the door shut and stormed out of the room, missing the loo completely.

A group of people had already gathered around Draco, asking questions about what he panned on doing for the Quidditch World Cup – apparently some reporters were allowed in, just as Ginny was. Hermione glared daggers at Pansy, who was chatting up Brutus in a flirty manner, touching his arm as if it were made of gold. She wanted to bash her face in with the large snitch sculpture that sat upon the table behind them. But she knew, from reading such stories where women bickered over men that it was never the woman’s fault. It was the scoundrel of a man’s fault.

Ginny seemed to have spotted Hermione’s rage and moved to stop her from breaking through the reporters. It was no use, Hermione clawed her way through, her hand clutching onto her purse as she reached Draco. His faux smile disappeared when their eyes contacted and before she knew what she was doing she slapped him. Her hand was raised and she put her entire body into it. She slapped him hard across the face. The sound echoed across the room, causing everyone to look.

Draco’s jaw clenched and he merely blinked at her while Hermione tried to blink away tears. She broke through the crowd and tore through the building, doing what she did best. Run.

“Hermione!” Ginny called out, trying to run after her but she was held back by Harry, who whispered something into her ear, causing her eyes to widen. “Oh Merlin….”

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Hermione brushed away tears from the corners of her eyes as she pushed through the crowds of photographers, who had probably seen the hardest slap in the century and were trying to get pictures of her crying or showing any emotion. She wouldn’t give them the damn chance to ruin her life again.

“Get out of my way!” Draco’s voice shouted over the crowd as he literally tossed people to the side.

She felt her feet drag but her brain told her to keep moving. Stopping was not an option. In her peripherals she spotted Madam Nash with her hand to her mouth as she gasped to Brutus – yet somewhere in her eye there was a gleam of hope. Like Hermione would go out with a big brute just because she had caught some one she thought romantically of about to have a shag fest with an ex-girlfriend. She wasn’t that pathetic, was she?

“Hermione!” Draco’s voice seemed a lot closer but Hermione didn’t bother stopping or slowing down.

She made it out to the street, near the Apparation point – which had to be changed due to the large groups of people who popped out of nowhere. The last thing the Ministry wanted was to see people falling on top of people or them rematerializing inside a person. Nasty business that way and almost always resulted in an extended stay at St. Mungos.

Just as she neared her Apparation point, Draco had finally caught up to her – having shrugged off the photographers. His arm reached out and snagged the crook of her arm, just above the elbow. Hermione jerked to a stop and swung around, her hand coming out to slap him once more. It worked. The slap wasn’t as hard as it had been, but it was effective. She knew Crookshanks would have grinned, Ron would be ecstatic to have witnessed this. Yet, her heart only dropped.

“Stop!” He snarled, pulling her to him, “Stop, Hermione.”

“Fuck off, Draco,” Hermione said through clenched teeth, “Don’t touch me…”

She broke from his grasp and stood a foot away from him, brushing her tears from her face.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t even…I’m going home,” she whispered, closing her eyes to Apparate away.

Little to her knowledge she had taken a side-along, and it was Draco. They arrived back at her cottage and he pushed her back against the door, holding her by her arms.

“I’m not done talking to you,” He said in a soft voice, but filled with malice, “You won’t even let me explain…”

“There’s nothing to say,” Hermione breathed, “I was right. So right about you….My gut told me and I…”

“Just…shut your gob for one second,” said Draco with a small hint of annoyance as he shook Hermione to look at him.

She looked at him, but her eyes glared into his. As much as she’d hate to say it, Rita Skeeter was right about him. She was nothing but some girl he wanted to shag…there weren’t any real meanings behind it. What they had was not…was not real. Oh Merlin, why does her heart hurt so much?

“Well, go on? I’m listening to whatever excuse you have.” Hermione said wrangling her arms free from him, her hand reaching the door knob just incase she wanted to make a break for it.

“I’m a righteous git. I shouldn’t have taken Pansy back there…” He began, his voice somewhat trembling but not with sorrow or fear, but anger, “It was a mistake and I know you’ll never forgive me.”

“No,” Hermione said with hr chin pointed up, causing Draco to stop and mouth ‘No?’

“No, Draco. I forgive you,” She replied with a nod, “It’s who you are…”

“Hermione, stop.”

“No.” She said firmly, pushing herself from the door, “I forgive you Draco. I forgive you for trying to make me seem a fool. I forgive you for taking Pansy to the hidden parlor and almost shagging her brains out while you had me looking everywhere for you. I even forgive you for having to put up with such an ugly, bushy haired, know-it-all with no social life and no inclination to give you exactly what you what. I forgive you but that doesn’t mean I want to see you. I hate you. I hate you Draco Malfoy. You’re nothing but a stubborn, insignificant speck.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched at her words. She slapped him. The vibrations from her hand against his cheek sent shivers up her arm and down her spine. The way he looked at her made her afraid. For the first time in months, she was afraid of him, afraid of what he’d do. Draco frowned and brought his hand out quickly, grasping onto the back of her hair. She felt her feet leave the ground when he yanked her forward, pulling her against him.

“You don’t know a damn think, Granger,” He snarled, leering over her like some possessed fool, “Why else do you think I’d want to bring you to that bloody party if I didn’t think…if I didn’t lo -…. Fuck it. Fuck you Granger. You’re right. If you hadn’t interrupted me, I would have shagged Pansy. Is that what you want to hear?”

She turned her head as her heart fell more, a sob was lodged in her throat. Why did she feel so betrayed when they weren’t anything? Why did her heart ached at his words?

“Stop,” Hermione whispered, feeling his hand tilt her chin to look at him.

“I’m not done here, Granger. I listened to you spout your mouth off, it’s only fair you let me.” He growled, digging into the side of her face with his hands. “You don’t know what I want or even who I am. You still think I’m the git from Hogwarts but I’m not. If you want to keep believing that then you’re the one who is stubborn and insignificant. You cannot pin everything on me. You made it quite clear how you feel about me and what I am to you, so I will do you a favor and tell you exactly how I feel. You are a slag.”

Her mouth dropped and she glared at him. Apparently he didn’t know the definition of what a ‘slag’ was and was just trying to goad her. It worked. Hermione pushed herself from Draco and brought her hand up to slap him again but his prized seeker skills set in at that moment, grabbing her wrist right before it touched his smooth granite skin.

“Barbarian,” He snarled, shoving her hand down as he pushed her against the door, “You were never anything significant to me. You were just some bloody bint I saw at Potter’s wedding alone and figured I’d try my luck. I wanted to fuck you and I did. I liked challenges and saw you as the perfect one. Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

She brought her eyes to his and shivered inwardly by how intensely he was staring at her. “I fucked you Hermione Granger because I felt pity for you. All of your mates are off getting hitched and here you are a fucking spinster at twenty-five. No wizard in his right mind would put up with your know-it-all attitude, your bushy hair, buck teeth and the oh so lovely scar that runs down your stomach. Hideous. Women should always be flawless and here you are…flawed like no one I’ve ever seen. You disgust me and you always have. You’re the bane of my existence and I wanted to flaunt you to the world – show them just exactly how far my cock can reach. Who better than Potter’s best friend, the Granger girl?”

Her nostrils were flared and she was angry. Pissed off. Blooming with the anger of a thousand suns. Whatever the term was she was sure there wasn’t one for how angry she was. Draco Malfoy was a prime git and a fool to think that she’d be phased by his revelation. She had been preparing herself for something like this from the start…hadn’t she? If she had, her heart wasn’t going to be able to take it any more. She wanted to faint and just fade away into the night but her feet were pushed firmly against the door, her chest heaving.

“Get out,” Hermione finally said, her throat itching with pain, “Get out and never speak to me again.”

Draco sneered, “Like I’d ever associate myself with a fucking Mudblood.”

“You already have,” she whispered with a defiant stare, “You associated with the whole lot and you fucked one. How’s that Malfoy pride now?”

“Still beaming,” he almost grinned, “Because the Mudblood I fucked wasn’t just some random slag, it was you. Hermione Granger. And I fucked you to an inch of your life and you loved it.”

“Sod off,” Hermione breathed, feeling Draco step closer.

“It’s the truth and it’s eating you alive…” He whispered, looking into her eyes, “You were shagged thoroughly by a Malfoy and liked it. Oh the irony.”

“The only irony you’re going to get is when I shove my iron up your arse if you don’t get out of here. NOW!” Hermione spat angrily, before gasping when she felt him press himself up against her.

His mouth was against her at that moment, violent and possessive. Hermione could barely take a breath by the way he pressed his lips against hers, stifling any noises from her. The door to her cottage exploded with the combined power of their magic, sending it flying off the hinges. Crashing against the wall, Hermione groaned as she felt a sharp pain digging into her back.

Draco’s hands were all over, ripping and tearing her dress at the seams just as she ripped his dress shirt from him. They fell into another room, completely tearing the clothes from one another until both were stark naked. The shreds littered the ground, his dress robe fell to the ground on top of a disgruntled Crookshanks – who disappeared into the kitchen shortly after they broke through her cottage door. Hermione shoved Draco from her when they reached her bedroom and glared at him. He huffed and glared at her as well but at that moment she didn’t care for her broken heart, or the feeling of betrayal. She wanted him and she’d have him.

Hermione jumped at him, feeling his arms catch her like he had caught snitches a million times before. Slamming his back into the wall, Draco grunted into the kiss and ran his hand up her smooth backside. She felt herself twirl around and pushed up against the wall with a leg slung over his hip, his sticky wet length pushed against her inner thigh, burning for her.

Hermione gasped when Draco lifted her and pushed her into the bed with his weight, one hand out to catch their weight. She scooted back as his hands reached for her thighs and pulled them apart. The smell of their sex filled the room and the heat just nearly burned everything. Draco’s lips attacked her neck and sucked hard on one sweet spot he once kissed tenderly. Hermione moaned when she felt his hand curl around her sweet centre, pushing his digits into her heat roughly. Her own hand shot out to his manhood, fisting him hard and quickly. Both let out twin groans and leaned back against the bed.

It didn’t take long before he was sheathed deep inside her welcoming heat. She heard him growl when her nails bit into his shoulders, results from how hard he pumped into her. Their groans of pleasure echoed across the room sending Crookshanks skating across the room and into another, hissing loudly. Draco’s lips were planted against her shoulder as his hips slammed into her. Biting her bottom lip as a painful but pleasure filled cry exploded from her throat, vibrating out loudly, Hermione arched her back against his bare chest.

Draco grasped onto her thighs, planting them firmly against his waist thrusting with vicious intent. The bed moved an inch after every couple thrusts, creaking and cracking from the force of their sex. He gripped onto the edge of the bed when he felt Hermione’s walls close around him, a powerful orgasm rushing through her body. Her hands grazed across his skin when he stroked heavily into her, his own manhood quivering under the strain of her tightened quim. With a final grunt, Draco collapsed on top of her, both panting heavily.

They laid there in silence for moments, only their breaths filled the silence. Hermione licked her lips when Draco brought his eyes to her and leaned up, prepared to kiss him. He turned his head and moved before they touched him and crawled from her. Draco sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hand, ruffling his hair some what.

“What are we going to do now?” Hermione asked quietly, pulling her bed spread to her naked body feeling incredibly, but deliciously, sore between her thighs. “It’s quite clear that…I mean…we hate each other but…I don’t…I…”

Her words were lost in the heat and throw of passion that her mind was clouded or like a big fluffy white marshmallow. Draco grunted but didn’t look at her. He stood and accio’d his clothing to him, dressing silently. Frowning, Hermione wrapped the sheet around her and stood feeling wobbly from a few minutes ago.

“We’re not fit for each other,” her heart dropped causing her to blink several times. Draco spun around and buttoned his dress robes up. “It’s best if we just…forgot everything that happened.”

Her voice squeaked as she tried to speak. He was right. They weren’t fit for one another. They were too different and far too stubborn to change. But, some how she hoped she’d never have this conversation with him. Sure he was a git and a pompous one at that – but she had seen him when he opened up and while they bickered it was only in jest. Now…Now where was this going? It was ending that’s what it was.

“Alright,” Hermione whispered, bringing her legs to her chest.

Draco stopped buttoning his last button and looked at her – did he want her to disagree or what? What was that look he was giving her at that moment? His face screwed up and he put on one of indifference. Such an actor, that one.

“Good.” He nodded, finishing buttoning his clothes, “I will um. I’ll send your dress out to be…”

“Don’t bother,” Hermione groaned, moving from the bed as she felt a soreness between her thighs, a good one that she’d never admit. “I’m going to toss it.”

“Ok,” he replied, filling the room with awkward tension.”You don’t have to worry about me contacting you. I won’t darken your doorstep any longer. Have a nice life.”

He pushed past her when she moved to the doorway to pick the shreds of her dress up. Hermione stood at the threshold of her bedroom and listened to Draco leave. The door opened and closed – assuming he fixed it on his way out.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Hermione made a decision and rushed out after him. It had begun to rain as she rushed outside, not caring whether she got wet or not. He was gone and it was no use. Water pelted her slightly bruised skin, making it feel as if it were burning her – yet she stayed out there, blinking away heavy sobs. If this was what was best, why did she feel so rotten?

Shivering, Hermione crouched lower with tears running down her face. She clutched onto the bed sheet and called Draco’s name into the darkness before a familiar mewing caught her attention. Crookshanks stood on the porch staring at her with his emerald bright eyes. Sniffling, Hermione rose from her spot and walked slowly into the cottage where she pushed up the door and fixed it before her sobs consumed her.