10 Things I Hate About You

Ten Things I Hate About You.


Title: Ten Things I Hate About You

Author: Bek Allen

Rating: NC17+

Disclaimer: While I solemnly swear that I am up to no good, I do not solemnly swear to own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy or any other characters created by JK Rowling. Nor do I swear to own the rights to the ‘Ten Things I Hate about You’ script or the rights to ‘The Taming of the Shrew’. They will be handed back accordingly once I’ve finished with them, and until that time, I’m only borrowing them for a bit o’fun… I swear.

Notes: I was feeling particularly chick-flick-y the other day, and so I watched ‘Ten Things I Hate about You’ (because I can not STAND Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton in ‘The Taming of the Shrew’), and that poem at the end struck me as the perfect poem for Hermione and Draco if they were to have feelings for each other. So, this story covers the end of sixth year, through to the end of seventh year and is, from Hermione’s POV, explaining all the things she “hates” about Draco. I am also considering writing this from Draco's perspective. However, it all depends on the feedback recieved from this. Also, please bear in mind that this is my first Draco/Hermione fic ever written (to completion) and posted. Be Kind...

Feedback: Is always appreciated via email or comment. Flames however, will be given to my cat to chew, play, slap around and maim as she sees fit.

Word Count: 9,333

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I hate the way you talk to me,

“Out of my way Mudblood,” Malfoy sneered as he all but slammed me into the wall outside of Potions class.

He’s been calling me that for the last four years, and a tiny little piece of me dies every time he utters that foul word. He doesn’t know I spend most nights up in my dorm crying my heart out because I go to bed feeling like… well, like I’m less then what I am. Lavender and Parvati tell me to ignore him, Harry, Ron and Hagrid all stress the same as well. Ginny tells me to develop a thick skin, just let it bounce right off me. And no matter what the advice I’m given, I just can’t. I’m not like any of them; I can’t just pretend that it doesn’t hurt, because it does. It is like that old rhyme my mother taught me when I was six – Sticks and stones can break my bones but names can not harm me. It’s all a load of rubbish. Bones can mend in mere seconds – I’ve seen Madam Pomfrey do it often enough, but names… they leave scars that are too deep underneath the skin for anyone to see.

And the way you cut your hair.

He sits in front of me in Arithmancy, the pompous little ferret. Whenever Professor Vector asks him a direct question and the answer is correct, he flicks that damnable hair over his shoulder and sends a smirk my way. It’s longer this year, almost down past his shoulder blades and it makes him look far too much like his late Father that I more often then not, find that I’m reminding myself that Lucius Malfoy is dead, and the spoiled brat in front of me is Draco Malfoy, bane of my existence for the last six years.

What I’d give for a softly murmured ‘Incendio’ and the pleasures of watching it all go up in flames. No man should have hair like that, and I think he’s the only one I know of to actually *have* hair like that; smooth, silky, *manageable*, hair. Never out of place and so white it puts my dad’s cricket team uniform to shame. I sometimes wonder if he received a terrible, gruesome fright when he was younger to actually make it that pale, pale shade of blond.

I hate the way you fly your broom,

He makes it look so easy, something that not even Harry and Ron have ever managed to do. It’s almost like he’s floating effortlessly along, and not sitting on a hard, thin piece of wood. Like he’s rebelling against gravity, hovering in the air telling the law of physics to go and get knotted along with the rest of us.

He’s neither afraid nor boastful, like he’s staring death in the face going ‘Nyah-Nyah’, after all, all that’s keeping him from plummeting to his end is seventeen inches of pine. I’m a little envious of that… freedom. It’s almost as though Malfoy was born to be among the birds… The sanctimonious git.

I hate it when you stare.

In Advanced Astronomy, our classes are held mostly after the younger years are in their common rooms playing exploding snap or Wizard’s Chess. It’s the one class where we’re allowed to show up out of the normally mandatory school robes. Most show up in their plain gray trousers and white oxfords, some of us are actually comfortable enough to show up in our jeans and loose sweaters, especially during the warmer months. It’s June now, and the weather is finally warm enough for me to get away with wearing the skirt my mother sent me for my birthday, coupled with a light cardigan, I’m busy trying to pen the movement of Venus and Mars in amongst the Dog Star and Orion’s Belt and I can feel his gaze on the back of my head.

Intense… so very, very intense that it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up; but when I turn to level him with my own ‘glare of doom’ as Harry and Ron are wont to call it, he’s conveniently looking elsewhere, at his own charts, at the sky, at Padma Patil. I silently thank Merlin that I’ve only two days of Hogwarts left before it’s time to board the train and head back home for the first month of summer.

I hate your big, dumb, Slytherin Goons,

The train swayed beneath me as I tried to pick myself up from the floor. I’d just come back from a meeting with Professor McGonagall and HIM regarding the duties of Head Boy and Girl. Of all the Ravenclaw’s that they could have chosen to be Head Boy, Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall, along with the entire Hogwarts staff had to go and choose Draco Malfoy to be the Head Boy to my Head Girl.

It had been a wonderful summer up until then – Voldemort had been defeated by Ron of all people. He’d got in a lucky 'Avada Kedavra' while protecting Harry from a round of 'Crucio'. The world as we knew it had righted itself once again and I’d received my letter from Hogwarts. But then… the meeting and it had gone well… surprisingly so. Even if the tension in the air had been so thick I could have sliced it up and served it on sandwiches. Then, the meeting had been over and we left Professor McGonagall’s compartment and Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson had all been waiting for Malfoy to come out and well, when I emerged instead, Parkinson had hissed that horrible name at me and Crabbe and Goyle shoved me so hard I went toppling over.

Before I had a chance to even think about reaching for my wand, they were gone, Malfoy leading the way back down the train to their compartments. Dusting myself off, I made my way to the nearest girl’s lavatory and burst into tears.

And the way you read my mind.

Halloween was fast approaching, along with the first Quidditch game of the year, the weather’s gotten colder but things are… amicable… barely. We have to share a common room, and at first I thought I wouldn’t be able to last a day in such close confines as Malfoy, but I have and now… now I just don’t know.

We’ll be sitting in the common room, studying and I’ll think about getting up to set another log on the fire and there he is… moving from his place at the far end of the desk and setting another log on the fire. Or I’ll be thinking about moving to the ice-chest in the corner of the room for a glass of pumpkin juice and there he is, setting a glass down by my Arithmancy books.

It is little things like that that make me wonder if I’ll last the Christmas season with Malfoy as Head Boy.

I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme.

“I’ll kill him! I will! And if I get kicked out, I promise I’ll scream and shout!” I cried out, ignoring the snickers and sidelong looks from the students of Gryffindor Tower. Ginny, Ron, Neville and Harry all watched with bright eyes as they tried to suppress their laughter, Luna didn’t even bother. Her hands clutched her sides as she tried to suck in lungfuls of air in between great guffaws.

“Malfoy is a rat! Luna, stop! I’ll smash your lion hat!” That only seemed to make her laugh harder. Though, I’m sure from their perspective, it’s absolutely hilarious hearing someone speak in rhyme.

“What did he do Hermione?” Harry’s voice sounded strange and I knew he was doing his best to keep from following Luna’s lead and laughing like a hyena.

I shot him a scathing look, “What do you think! He hexed me, the fink!”

Ron collapsed beside his girlfriend, gasping for breath, “S-sorry ‘Mione. I-it’s just… y-you s-sound so f-f-funny!”

I glared at them one last time before turning on my heels and storming out of Gryffindor Tower, heading towards my own common room, as the Pink Lady swung shut, I couldn’t help but overhear the sounds of their raucous laughter. No way was I explaining that I’d done *nothing* to warrant being hexed to sound like a badly written Dr. Seuss story. I’d accidentally bumped into Malfoy as I rounded the corner, and as I apologized, he yelled and hexed me… The bastard.

I hate the way you’re always right,

He stood in the middle of the common room, his normally ice-blue eyes, now stunning silver; his pale cheeks flushed a light pink. “Have you learned absolutely nothing except how to save your friends sorry arses at this school?”

In between us stood a simmering cauldron full of what was supposed to be Veritaserum.

“The dragon’s blood is supposed to go in last!” I cried for the umpteenth time that night. Our joint potions project accounted for fifty per cent of our final mark.

Snatching up his parchment, Draco scanned the notes he’d made from Advanced Potions. “After adding the dragon’s blood, stir three times counter clockwise, then add the unicorn hair before leaving to simmer for twenty minutes, stirring every two minutes clockwise.” He threw the parchment at me. “As written on the board by Severus Snape. If you removed that bushy head from Potter’s arse for five minutes, you’d have noticed that instead of writing down the wrong directions.”

I quickly scanned the notes, and couldn’t help but admire the elegant scrawl of his handwriting. My eyes widened as I saw that he was correct, I quickly rifled through my own notes, cursing my chicken scratch hand and there, plain as the nose on my face, were my own stuffed up instructions. “Oh Merlin…” I looked up, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment, “I’m sorry Draco.”

I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry.

Three months ago, we’d had an argument over our joint potions assignment – it was the best thing that could have ever happened to us. The moment I’d conceded defeat, he’d evanesco’ed the contents of our cauldron and we began again. The hostility was gone and we’d been working together much more harmoniously then ever before. There were no more hexes, no more names, no more harsh words… But now, it all changed.

The Veritaserum worked its way through my system, burning like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach. I was seated beside Draco in the potions classroom, Snape stood before the entire class – Draco, Harry, a few Ravenclaws, Susan Bones, Ron, Pansy and myself – detailing the work we’d be doing today; including testing our Veritaserum on our partners and asking a bunch of mundane, meaningless questions. Although from the glint in Draco’s eyes, he would be deviating from the set questions.

“What’s your favorite color?” His eyes bore into mine, taking careful note of the tiny beads of sweat the appeared on my forehead as I attempted to lie.

“Gr…urple.” The burning sensation grew quickly and I almost doubled over at the pain in my stomach. “Purple!” The pain instantly went away. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue.” He answered the question without hesitation, “What’s your full name?”

“Hermione Jane Granger,” a truthful answer bore no pain, only a small annoying tingle in the pit of my stomach. “What is your exact age?”

“Seventeen years, six months, two days and twelve hours.” I saw the beads of sweat form on his upper lip, and his fists clench so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“You’re lying.” I laughed as he flashed me one of those smirks, a lot kinder then the ones he’d given me in previous years.

“Seventeen years, three months, one day and six hours.” His ice blue eyes gained a small glint in them, a glint I’d come to realize over the years that meant he was up to something no good. “Are you a virgin?”

I managed to look affronted for all of five minutes before the pain grew to be too much and I was clutching my stomach, gasping for breath. Apparently, refusal to answer a question also results in pain. “Yes! Why did you deviate from the set questions?”

“Because there is no fun in getting mundane, honest answers; honestly Hermione, I’m not in Slytherin for nothing.” He chuckled softly before asking another question, “Are you dating anyone?”

“No.” I was pleased to note the look of curiosity in his eyes, “Are you really sleeping with Pansy Parkinson?” Two people can play at this game, I thought to myself.

“No.” Not even a glimmer of sweat or pain. “Do you think I’m attractive?”

“Yes.” I didn’t even think this time to lie; not wanting to feel like someone was shoving a hot poker in my belly and twisting it about. My rebutting question was swift, and it opened up a Pandora’s Box that I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready for. “Do you like me?”

“As a friend, yes,” his eyes glittered, the bastard found a loop hole in the question. “Have you ever considered the possibility of a sexual relationship between you and I?”

Harry told me later that I looked mortified at such a question before I doubled up in pain. “Yes…” I managed to squeak out, gasping with relief. “Have you?”

I watched as he began to sweat, his fists clenching again, knuckles turning white as the pain overcame him.

“No.” His eyes became unfocused and I saw the blood from where his nails cut into his palms dribble onto the desk. “How could I ever love a filthy little Gryffindor like you?” His eyes, though unfocused took on the look of hard steel, his voice was raspy and deep and I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. He was lying and we both knew it.

“I don’t know,” I managed to whisper before turning and fleeing from the class altogether, tears streaming down my cheeks.

I hate it that you’re not around, and the fact you didn’t call.

Two weeks had gone by since ‘The Incident’ in Potions, and by some small miracle, or a careful lot of planning on Draco’s behalf, or more then likely a combination of both, I never saw him outside of a classroom. This is odd seeing as we share not only a common room, but bathroom as well – though there was a significant amount of evidence to his existence. His books and school work littered the common room study table; I was forever picking up his towel from the bathroom floor and the more prominent, hearing his voice coming from his room on occasion.

It hurt… a lot. The game we’d played – that *he* started – in potions had gotten completely out of hand. The rumor mill of Hogwarts had done wonders since that day and I had now had a breakdown in potions, gone completely insane and was waiting on transport to St. Mungo’s. It was also rumored that I’d made the potion wrong and had been poisoned and had run to Madam Pomfrey for immediate treatment, although our potion had been the only one to achieve full marks. Another one, my personal favorite and the only one that held a small amount of truth, was that we’d brewed the potion wrong, and Draco, under not answering a question honestly had been incapacitated so badly, it had taken Snape, Harry and Ron to get him to the infirmary while I ran and hid because of my incompetence. Harry told me later that it had taken only him and Ron to get Draco to Madam Pomfrey, who gave him a mild pain reliever until he could answer the question honestly.

It also hurt because I wanted answers and Draco was no where to be found whenever I struck up the courage to speak to him. I wanted to know why he’d deviated from the set questions, why he’d continued with the line of questioning when he knew neither one of us could lie to the other. It hurt even more so, when Ron had approached me two days later to tell me he’d overheard Draco answering my question honestly, with tears streaming down his face – even as the pain came to an end.

But most of all I hate the way I don’t hate you – not even close,

“Porthos,” I muttered to the portrait guarding the Head Boy and Girl quarters. It had been a miserable Valentine’s Day. Harry and Ginny and Ron and Luna had all left me for romantic trips to Hogsmeade, not that I could blame them. Valentine’s Day is all about being with the one you love, and while I love them all, I in no way, wanted to be subjected to goo-goo eyes and baby talk over cups of steaming tea in Madam Puddifoot’s.

A month and a half had passed by since ‘The Incident’ and while I now saw Draco outside the classroom, the amiable atmosphere we’d had before that day, was gone. We no longer talked, we never studied together, and we didn’t even argue, hex or call each other names in the corridor anymore. What tiny thread of friendship we’d had was severed. So it was a total shock when I stepped into the common room proper only to be faced with dozens and dozens of lit candles, a bouquet of freshly cut Sterling Silver roses, and the study desk laden with several desserts; including a decadent triple chocolate fudge cake with whipped cream – my favorite.

“Sorry, didn’t know you were expecting company. I’ll just… head up to my room.” I muttered as I began to hurry across to the portrait leading to my sleeping quarters.

“Wait!” His hand was on my arm before I could pull the door open. “Please… this isn’t… It’s not what you think.”

I spun then, my eyes full of pain and embarrassment, “Funny, it looks like you’re getting ready to wine and dine someone, then again, maybe I’ve just gone too far off the deep end to really understand what I’m seeing.”

“It’s not just for anyone Hermione,” his eyes were lowered, “This is… I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” I shook my head, “Don’t be, it’s Valentine’s Day, you needn’t apologize for wanting to do something romantic for the one you love. Now, let go of my arm and I’ll get out of your way.”

“No, I’m sorry for what I said… in potions.” He looked up at me; his pale cheeks tinged pink, “I lied and we both know it… It cost me three days in the Hospital Wing, and a friend.”

“Then why did you do it?” I watched as his hand dropped from my arm to rub the back of his neck, “Why did you lie when you knew I felt the same way?”

“It was supposed to be a game. Just some harmless, innocent fun; both of us just sharing a joke, and then it… just… I took it too far.” He looked so vulnerable then and I felt some of my anger towards him melt away. “When you admitted to thinking about more then just a friendship between us… your eyes, they just… you looked like you wanted to crawl under the nearest rock and never come out again.”

I sighed and shook my head, “Did you honestly expect me to step back from the challenge?” I folded my arms over my chest, “Because that is exactly what you did Draco. The moment you started asking questions that weren’t on the set list, you had to have known I wouldn’t back down from asking you the same questions!”

“I know!” His mercurial eyes flashed momentarily, “I just never…” He trailed off, unable to find the right words. “I never thought you’d give *those* answers.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

The fight went out of me at the look in his eyes, he was about to bare his soul to me. “And if I asked you now, would you give me an honest answer?”

“Yes.” His eyes bored into mine, unwavering, open… vulnerable.

I took a deep breath, summoning up the last shred of my Gryffindor courage and dignity. I’d had them shattered far too many times to be able to handle another rejection from the Slytherin Prince in front of me. “Do you like me?”

“Yes. As a friend.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

“No… I think you’re beautiful.” I blushed at his words.

“Have you ever considered a ‘more then friends’ relationship between us?”

“Yes,” he didn’t say the word, he breathed it.

“How long?”

“Since the day I turned you into a walking, talking rhyme.” He smiled at my shocked expression; that had been five months ago. “You were stunning, completely and utterly frustrated at not being able to open your mouth without speaking in rhyme. Your eyes continually flashed with this fire every time you looked at me or someone giggled when you spoke. It was breathtaking.”

I shook my head, only Draco Malfoy could find someone’s… *my*… anger and frustration beautiful. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I was terrified. You’re Hermione Granger for Merlin’s sake! Hogwarts’ Princess, best friend to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, the golden girl of Gryffindor, while I’m Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin, son of the most prominent Death Eater known to Wizard kind, I’m supposed to hate you as you’re supposed to hate me.” He pushed his hair back off his forehead and tilted his chin slightly.

“And do you?” I asked, my stomach flip flopping, “Hate me I mean?”

His hand moved up and caught my cheek, his thumb stroking the skin. “No,” he smiled softly, “I don’t think I ever have… not really.”

“But all the times you called me…” He cut me off.

“Think about it Hermione, there is an incredibly thin line between love and hate, but passion is passion. We’ve always had it, even at the age of twelve when the world was starting to get confusing and dangerous. That spark in your eyes whenever we fought, you can’t deny that it was passion. You loved to see me squirm and cut me down when my ego got the better of me, just as I took great pains to cause that fire in your eyes. What I feel for you… its most definitely not hate. It’s real and passionate and all consuming.” His cheeks flushed slightly.

I smirked a little; the Draco Malfoy of seven years ago wouldn’t be caught dead speaking words like this. I held his hand to my cheek, turning my head to press my lips to the center of his palm. “Is this all for me?” I asked, waving my hand towards the common room.

“No, it’s for Potter and Weasel,” he gave an exasperated sigh. “Of course it’s for you. Why else would I get Dobby to make a triple chocolate fudge cake with whipped cream? And the roses. I know they aren’t truly purple, but it was the best Sprout’s greenhouses could come up with.” He took me by the hand and led me towards the center of the common room, spinning me around. “Do you like it? Is it okay?”

He was bouncing on the balls of his feet as I moved to the bouquet, fingering the silky petals. “It’s perfect.” I turned and threw myself into his arms, burying my face into his chest. “I love it Draco, thank you.” I looked up at him then, his silver blue eyes smiling down at me. “I love *you*.”

His eyes became unfocused and before I knew it, his lips were pressed against mine in a soft kiss. His arms tightened around my waist as he pulled me as close as he could before he buried his face in my hair. “I love you too… so very, very much. I just wish I’d realized it sooner and not been such a complete and utter git about it.”

I giggled and pulled back to look at him, cupping his cheeks with both hands, “No, I don’t think we’d have been ready… not then. We needed to be here, in this moment without an impending War hanging over our heads, when the lines weren’t so clear cut and I was Muggle-born and you were Pureblood.” I stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “We needed to grow up.”

He nodded and spun me around, guiding me towards the table laden with dessert. Brushing my hair aside, he lowered his lips to my ear, “You can choose anything *but* the fudge cake… that is for dessert.” I didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking, I could hear it in his voice. I felt a shiver work its way down my spine as I realized what he meant; curiosity and excitement, with just a tiny bit of fear filling my stomach with a million butterflies.

It was… brilliant. Really, there’s no other word for it, and what surprised me more, was that it wasn’t only sweets, but there had been a real, proper meal as well, and I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, but there was a bottle of honeyed mead from Madam Rosmerta as well. And the most wonderful thing was, we *talked*, a real, proper conversation about school, about what we’d covered so far, about what we’d be covering soon, about my parents and his, about their plans and our plans for our futures. Finally, dinner and conversation were over, and I heard Draco laugh when I eyed the piece of triple chocolate fudge cake.

He moved from his seat across from me and held his hand out, “Very well, bring the bloody cake if you must.” The exasperated look he gave me belied the amusement in his tone.

Grinning, I let him help me from the chair, snatching up the plate of cake, my eyes dancing in the candlelight. “Over on the lounge then?” I asked, making sure to grab two forks.

He shook his head, steering me in the direction of the fireplace. My eyes widened, where there was normally just a deep chestnut colored rug with the Hogwarts crest, was a mountain of pillows and a deep, lush quilt, the palest of purples and blues I’d ever seen. As we sat, Draco pulled me to his chest, settling me between his outstretched legs, arms wrapped around my middle. A comfortable silence settled over us; the warmth from the fire, the mead and the very male body pressed into my back made for an incredibly relaxing atmosphere, so relaxing that I’d almost forgotten about the cake until Draco held a fork full right in front of me, his voice whispering in my ear to taste.

The first taste of cake was heavenly, my eyes slid closed and I couldn’t help but moan as the rich chocolate seemed to almost melt in my mouth. So intensely focused on savoring that one bite, I almost missed the answer groan from Draco as he buried his head in my neck. We shared the cake, and with every tiny moan of pleasure that seemed to pass my lips, I felt Draco’s growing erection pressing against my back. Finally, Draco held the last bite to my mouth – sans fork – and a hearty groan escaped his throat as I wrapped my lips around his index finger, my tongue making sure that not a drop of chocolate or cream was left behind.

It was probably the most exciting game of seduction I’d ever played (at that point it was the *only* game of seduction I’d ever played) and my heart sped up as I felt him shift against me, his erection pressing into the small of my back. A wave of heat washed over me from head to toe at the realization that *I* did this to him. Me, Hermione Jane Granger, Hogwarts’ Princess, Golden Girl of the Gryffindor Trio, Insufferable-Know-It-All, had made Draco Malfoy squirm.

I shifted slightly, pressing my bottom even closer to the evidence of his arousal, warmth flooding my belly to settled in my womb and I had to cross my legs in front of me when I felt my core start to throb. He groaned again, a little louder then before and I smiled, letting my head fall back against his shoulder.

His hands moved to my arms then, his fingers barely grazing my skin until he came to my shoulders. For a moment, I was thankful that it had been a Hogsmeade Saturday, and while still cold, I had shucked my jacket when we’d sat down to dinner, leaving me in the lilac blouse my parents sent me for Christmas. My hands clutched at his legs as he popped the first button.

Once again, his mouth was against my ear, “I won’t hurt you Hermione, not anymore,” he whispered before pressing his lips to the patch of skin just beneath my earlobe.

I nodded, my grip on his legs relaxing a little. “I trust you Draco.” My eyes slid closed once more as he continued to slowly, torturously, undo the rest of my buttons. His fingers brushing over every patch of skin as it was exposed, his lips moving across my neck and shoulders. My insides were a flurry of nervous excitement and I shifted once again to get rid of my shoes when his hands gripped my hips, stilling me.

“No,” his voice was hoarse with arousal. “We’re going to take this slowly. And I’m going to unwrap you,” his voice became amused, “Consider it your gift to me, seeing as I went to all this trouble for you on Valentine’s Day and you couldn’t even be arsed to get me a gift in return.”

I laughed then, my body completely relaxing back against his. My hands began to massage his thighs through the soft material of his trousers and I tilted my head to the side to allow him better access to my neck. I couldn’t help but gasp when I felt his teeth graze my flesh; not even Viktor had been like this in the summer before fifth year. In the process of comparing Malfoy kisses to Krum kisses (Viktor naturally losing to Draco), my brain short-circuited. Draco’s lips had found my carotid artery and he began to nip and suck at the small patch of skin just above my collarbone. All the blood that had been helping my brain function disappeared as he drew it towards the skin, marking me.

His fingers moved quickly, pulling my blouse from my shoulders and unsnapping the clasp of my bra before that too, was flung to the other side of the couch. His hands resumed their place on my skin, his lips never leaving that spot on my neck… the spot that seemed to have a direct line to the bundle of nerves hidden between the apex of my thighs. I whimpered softly, melting against him, sod his wand, his lips were magic. Not even when I’d gone to bed alone and well… not even then had I felt this intense a pleasure. And all he was doing was kissing… and nibbling and sucking and licking… my neck!

His hands rough and calloused from Quidditch over the last six years moved fleetingly over my stomach and ribs, making me giggle. He grinned, I could feel it against my skin; but instead of going for the assault, he seemed to file it away for later and his hands continued upwards until they reached my chest. Fingertips traced patterns over my breasts before gently massaging them; I arched my back, trying to press more of myself into his hand.

My skin felt incredibly hot, like I had a fever, my brain was on permanent sabbatical and every nerve ending from my neck down, seemed to be humming with electricity. I raised my arms, wrapping them around Draco’s neck, entwining my fingers in his hair. Turning my head, I tugged on the blond locks until I could capture his lips with mine. I shivered slightly when I felt his tongue tracing my lips, and opened to him easily, my heart was pounding so loudly that I am almost positive he could hear it.

Our tongues danced as though we were trying to devour each other; so caught up was I that I never noticed when his hand slid down my stomach, popping the button and lowering the zipper of my jeans before his hand slid inside the waistband. I groaned as he pulled back, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath, and that was when I noticed his fingers dancing along the skin just above the top of my knickers. I looked down before looking back up into his eyes; now almost a crystalline blue. No one had touched me down there before… no one besides myself that is, and I’m sure that it radiated in my gaze, because he smiled softly and pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose.

“If you ask me to stop, I will.” His voice was several octaves lower then normal and I could feel his heart thumping against my shoulder blade.

“I’ve never… No one’s ever…” My cheeks were flushed and I had to look away. Even Ginny and Harry had had sex – and I only knew that because Ginny had had no shame in telling me all that she could while I’d sat there, begging her to stop.

“It’s alright,” he smiled, “The Veritaserum remember?” He grinned at my blush and brushed the hair away from my face. “Just say the word Hermione, and we’ll call it a night and go to bed or play exploding snap.”

I pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw before turning around to hug him. “I don’t want to, but I’m scared Draco,” I looked up at him, “You’ve made everything perfect so far, I’m just… nervous I guess. Not to mention terrified and worried and anxious and excited.” I smiled then as he rolled his eyes.

“Only you could feel all those things at once.” He laughed softly, pulling me closer, “I’d love for us to continue, but I’m not going to push you into anything you’re not ready for.”

“I’m ready Draco; I just… let me catch my breath? Please?” I smiled when he nodded before settling back down, my back pressed into his chest once more.

He ‘Accio-ed’ the bottle of mead and our two glasses, pouring me half a glass before handing it to me; there was no doubt in my mind that he wanted this night to be special, as did I. However, I’d heard from Luna, that when she and Ron had first been intimate, there had been pain… and blood, and I didn’t think that something that involved pain and blood could be all that special, no matter how hard a couple tried.

In my musings, Draco’s lips had resumed their work on my neck and shoulder and his fingers had returned to drawing lazy circles on my stomach and chest. As he nipped once again at the tender flesh of my collarbone, I threw all caution to the wind, setting aside my glass, I bared my neck and grabbed his hands; guiding them down into the waist of my jeans.

Not even a little bit,

I stood on the dais, my palms sweating, my knees trembling as I looked out on the sea of faces before me. It would be weird, not seeing these people every day as I had for the past seven years. Some of them… Harry, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Neville, Millicent Bulstrode and Draco I’d see… But I wouldn’t see Susan Bones in the library, I wouldn’t hear about Lavender’s latest triumph over Pansy Parkinson in Divination, I wouldn’t see the twin smiles from Parvati and Padma, and I’d only read about Dean Thomas’ future as a team member of the Falmouth Falcons in the sports pages of the Prophet.

I felt an equally clammy hand wrap around mine and give a small squeeze as Professor Dumbledore ended his speech. I looked down to where our hands were joined, candle light flickering on my class ring, making it sparkle. Applause weaved itself around me and I felt yet another squeeze of my hand before I was being tugged towards the podium.

“Well,” Draco began, his gaze searching the faces before us. “It’s been an… interesting… seven years to say the least.” There was a smattering of giggles and nods of agreement before I tapped my wand to my throat and started to speak.

“We’ve seen six DADA teachers, two Divination teachers, two Care of Magical Creatures teachers, a Tri-Wizard Tournament, the death of a well loved student and friend and far more Quidditch games then I’m sure is necessary for a school.” I smiled as the last was received with a wave of guffaws before Draco continued.

“We’ve seen O.W.Ls, interference from the Ministry, a Swamp in the fifth floor, we’ve seen a War and we’ve seen far more N.E.W.T examinations then I feel is necessary.” The class laughed again, several people raising their glasses in agreement.

“But,” I continued, picking up where Draco left off, “the point is we’ve *seen* them.” I looked out at the crowd, picking out Ron, Harry and Neville. I smiled softly when I felt Draco’s hand on my waist. “We’ve survived! From Professor Snape’s first potion class,” there were a smattering of giggles and I shot the well-respected Professor a smile – he sneered, albeit in a less frightening way -, “To Umbridge and Voldemort, we made it here, to this day.”

“We’ve seen more Inter-House Unity in the last ten months then we have in the six years previous. Luna Lovegood’s roaring Lion hat notwithstanding,” the crowd sitting around Ron all slapped his shoulders and Draco smirked as Ron’s face turned as red as his hair. “Hermione and I would like to think that’s it’s all attributed to us, but, it’s not.”

“Not only have you done yourselves proud, you’ve done your Houses, your Head of Houses and Professor Dumbledore, along with the founders of Hogwarts proud.”

“So, in addition to the Class gift, Hermione and myself decided that you all deserved a little something extra to remind you of your time here at Hogwarts,” the Great Hall filled with gasps and Professor McGonagall tapped me on the arm and raised her eyebrows, I simply smiled and winked as Draco continued, “If you look under your seats…” The whole Hall seemed to come alive as every single, seventh year student reached under their chairs, pulling up the packages Draco and I had placed a concealment charm on earlier.

They were nothing really, and idea I’d received from one of my Muggle cousins who’d moved to Australia two years previous. The sound of shredded paper filled the room and cries of delight rent the air. In May, Draco and I had commissioned Colin Creevey to begin taking pictures of everyone and everything within Hogwarts, including the Professors, the numerous clubs and study groups and of course, copies of any and all pictures of Quidditch games he’d taken over the years.

Together, Draco and I had compiled them into a year-book; we included information about all the students and Professors, the Sorting Hat’s song from our very first year and enough blank space for people to collect signatures from their friends and classmates. It had all been bound in black leather with the Hogwarts crest embossed in gold on the front. After we’d had the one copy made, it was nothing for either of us to use a multiple charm to create one for everyone else, including ourselves.

“Before we present the class gift, I’d like to present Madam Pince with the original copy of our Yearbook,” I smiled brightly as the old, pinch-faced librarian stepped forward and accepted the book as though it were a national treasure before giving me a rather awkward hug. It would be the first, and more likely, the only for the school library.

“And now,” Draco smirked and produced his wand, “Hermione, myself and the class of Nineteen – Ninety-Eight, would like to present Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, along with the rest of the esteemed Professors of Hogwarts, with this small gift of appreciation for putting up with us lot for the past seven years.” A quick ‘Accio’ and flick of his wand, and a huge portrait flew from the receiving room to the left of the Great Hall.

I smiled as Professors Snape, Lupin, Hagrid and Dumbledore all jumped up from their seats to keep it from crashing. It was six feet long and three feet wide and had taken nearly an entire Hogsmeade afternoon to accomplish. Yet another photo by Colin, but this one contained every seventh year student from each house, standing in front of the gates of Hogwarts. It was the same photo that covered the two center pages of the yearbook.

I laughed as Professor Flit wick charmed the portrait to float so all the teachers could stand back and admire it to the heavy thunder of applause from the students, and I couldn’t help the blush spread across my cheeks as Professor McGonagall nudged Snape and pointed to the picture images of Draco and me, cuddling in the very center of it all.

When the portrait had been levitated back to the receiving room, and the applause died down, Draco and I turned as one to face our peers, our friends… our family and beamed. Raising our joined hands, high above our heads, we cried out in unison, “We did it!”

Another round of applause broke out, and one by one, I watched as our friends stood up, first Harry, Ron, Neville and Millicent, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle, followed by Slytherins, Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaw’s alike.

Turning back to our seats on the dais, Draco and I waited patiently as Dumbledore thanked us all for the lovely gift that he would “Treasure always above any other gift,” and pronounced us all graduates of Hogwarts. Draco and I rose with the others, our school hats tossed high in the air as screams and cheers filled the hall. We still had two days at Hogwarts left in order for each of us to collect our marks and make sure nothing was left behind. As I stepped out of the warm embrace of Professor McGonagall, who looked as though she was about to cry at any moment, I felt a tug on my hand and turned to see Draco, all ready to move into the bustling crowd of seventh years.

As we were enveloped by a group of students, each of them moving to hug and shake our hands, I caught Draco’s eye with my own, smiling brightly at the softly mouthed ‘I love you’ before he was whisked into a manly hug by Harry. As he was released into Pansy’s outstretched arms, I smiled back.

“I love you too.”

The Graduation Ball lasted until the small hours of the night until one by one, the students began heading to their rooms, or far more secluded areas of the castle to say their private goodbyes. Amidst the dancing, eating and the last minute attempts to make amends by various and many students, the yearbooks had been signed by a gamut of people, mine even included a kind missive from Professor Snape in regards to being an exceptional student.

Pansy Parkinson was currently involving Millicent, Susan and myself in a rather large and teary hug, sobbing out apologies for being a ‘complete and utter cow’ for seven years, when Draco and Neville, along with Ernie McMillan and Crabbe approached, rolling their eyes at our behavior before spiriting us away to our respective common rooms, or secluded alcoves. I smiled at Pansy as she broke away from Crabbe and crushed me into an incredibly awkward embrace.

“You really are the nicest person I’ve ever met!” She sobbed into my shoulder as I patted her on the back. “And I truly am sorry for being such a… a… silly cow.” She pulled back and looked at me, her eyes red and swollen with tears. “Promise me we’ll keep in touch so we can try again?”

I smiled, “I promise Pansy, and you’re forgiven.” I gave her a friendly hug and nudged her towards her beau before Draco wrapped me in his arms and all but dragged me to our common room.

The portrait to our common room rolled his eyes as we finally reached our destination. “Get a room.” He growled, glaring at Draco who had, at some point succumbed to sucking and nibbling on my neck.

I laughed, “Good evening your Highness,” I smiled brightly, trying to keep from melting into Draco’s embrace. “Maid Marion gone walk abouts again?” I bit back a smirk, the portrait to our room was of Prince John and Maid Marion, sitting down to supper in a great hall, but unlike the fairy tale told to muggle children, Prince John was normally a happy and jovial person… unless of course his Lady had scampered off and left him alone for the likes of Robin of Loxley on the sixth floor.

“Harrumph!” He folded his arms over his chest, “Password?”

“Amour,” Draco lifted his head and smirked at the lonely prince. “Perhaps you should chain her to your side your Majesty.” He laughed as the portrait growled and the door swung open, almost knocking us both over.

Before I could step into our common room, Draco swept me up into his arms and over his shoulder, I laughed at the sudden display of cave-manly-ness and continued to giggle as he carried me through to his bedroom; which, unbeknownst to either of our Heads of House, had been transfigured during the Easter holiday to accommodate both of us, my room becoming the ‘guest room’ as Draco liked to call it.

I shrieked as he unceremoniously tossed me onto our bed, the transfigured rug from our very first night together making up the comforter set. I watched as Draco slid off his robes, a smile plastered on his handsome face. “Do you think we did the right thing? Presenting the portrait as a class gift I mean?” I asked, kicking my shoes off the side of the bed.

“Honestly Hermione, the school doesn’t need yet another telescope for the astronomy tower, nor does it need another rare volume of ‘Moste Potent Potions’. Pince already has about twenty of them in the store room.” He smirked as he knelt on the bed, crawling over me. “Now, stop talking. I have other plans for the remainder of the evening.”

I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his head down to mine for a carnal kiss – a clash of teeth, lips and tongues. It took only moments before my body felt like it was on fire, but then in the five months we’d been together, I’d surmised that Draco’s kisses had that power over me. In no time, our clothes were gone and I was writhing underneath him. My hands clutching at the sheets as Draco’s mouth traveled from that spot underneath my ear to my belly button in a series of kisses, nibbles and licks.

I could feel him pressed against my leg, hard, hot and wanting, but the two times I’d reached down to tug him up by his hair, he’d simply rebuffed my hand with a shake of his head, continuing to draw out this incredible torture. Every nerve ending in my body felt like it had come alive as his fingers preceded his mouth down through the neat, nest of curls covering my mound. My first orgasm crashed over me as his fingers pinched and flicked my clit, his hot breath washing over the tiny bundle of nerves.

I looked down as I tried to catch my breath, smiling down at the face resting against my abdomen. Smirking, I shifted my leg slightly, bringing my calf in contact with his cock. I’d learned early on, and quite by accident that the most gentle of movements where my skin came in contact with his shaft, caused him to make, not only the most incredible sounds, but drove him to move even faster towards his goal.

He growled then, igniting yet another fire in my belly, but instead of moving up so I could kiss him, he shifted until he lay on his stomach between my legs, his hands gripping my hips before he buried his face in my pussy, still slicked with my earlier release. I cried out as my pelvis thrust against his tongue, almost dislodging him in the process; he growled again, the sound sending shockwaves up and down my spine, before wrapping his arms around my thighs and using his thumbs to part my nether lips.

I could feel the coil of pleasure in my womb tightening as his tongue thrust inside of me, his nose bumping against my clit with every tilt of his head. My fingers wound through his hair, guiding his motions as I felt myself edging closer to climax, my breath coming in ragged pants and gasps of his name and “Oh Merlin…” my grip on his hair tightened as his teeth gently bit down on my clit. My muscles tensed and he must have sense it because he lifted his head, his gaze locking on my unfocused one.

I whimpered at the loss of contact and he smiled, moving one hand to gently circle the bundle of nerves with his finger tip; keeping me teetering on the edge as he moved up my body. He pressed his lips to mine, and the taste of my juices sent another bolt of pleasure straight to my core. When he pulled back to catch his breath, he smirked; that evil smirk that told me he was about to do something I’d regret or love, either way, I’d remember the action for the rest of my life. His finger danced around my clit, alternating between lazy circles and gentle flicks.

“D-don’t… tease…” I managed, my hands clutching at his shoulders.

“Marry me?” his voice was soft, almost inaudible.

My eyes flew open and I desperately tried to get them to focus, however the desire and arousal was making it hard, especially when his finger did *that* and oh Merlin he was hard as steel. I could feel his cock pressing into my thigh. “W-w-what?”

He lowered his head then, his lips brushing that spot just below my ear that sent electricity shooting to my core before he repeated himself. “I love you Hermione… Marry me?” He pulled back then and I could see that mischievous look in his eyes again. My astonishment lasted only a second as he slammed into me, burying himself to the hilt as my whole world exploded into a swirl of colors and lights and pleasure, my inner muscles gripping him tightly as my orgasm crashed over me with the power of a Tsunami.

As the last of my climax ebbed away, I looked at him and noticed, not for the first time that night, the look of adoration in his eyes. Draco Malfoy loved *me*, wanted to marry *me*, wanted to spend the rest of his life with *me*. Smiled softly as he pushed some of my hair out of my face and off my sweaty brow; pressing small kisses to the skin there before he balanced on one elbow and reached over to the bed-side table and retrieved his wand. With a small flick and a softly muttered ‘Accio’, his jacket came soaring over to the bed. He fumbled in it for a moment, groaning softly as I squeezed around him.

“Stop it; I’m determined to do this right Hermione.” He smirked then, and I realized only Malfoy could think that the right way to proposing was buried balls-deep in the woman he loved after giving her the most mind numbing orgasm to date. I watched quietly as he produced a small velveteen box from one of the inner pockets, my heart beginning to race even more at what this truly meant.

“Draco, I…” I broke off into a moan as he shifted to rest on his elbows, sending himself even deeper.

“Look at me,” His voice was gruff with arousal and I looked up at him. His blue eyes were shining… brighter then I’d ever seen them before. “I love you; I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Don’t think, just answer.” He wore a dangerous smirk, one that had me melting into a puddle of Hermione beneath him.

He flipped open the lid of the box and turned it to me, my eyes misting over at the bezel set amethyst, flanked by two smallish diamonds. I removed the ring from its place, admiring the way the fire light glinted off the platinum band. I opened my mouth to respond, and instead, uttered a guttural moan as I felt my inner walls contract around him. He was still as hot and hard as he had been when he first slid inside of me. I thrust my hips gently, all thoughts of proposals and weddings fled my mind as my arousal and desire came back ten-fold. He slid back then, slowly, his turgid member grazing my clit.

“I won’t ask again Granger,” he managed between gritted teeth, and I could tell he was close. The one arm he was using to hold himself up was trembling and the muscles in his chest were taut as he tried to control himself. “Marry me?”

Before I could nod, before I could even think about answering, he slammed into me. Driving home with one all mighty thrust that my hands automatically gripped the bed sheets, a faint ripping sound reached my ears and I knew I’d torn the sheets as I screamed my answer. I’m amazed that the whole of Hogwarts wasn’t beating down our door afterwards to find out what had murdered me. A few quick thrusts, hard and shallow, and Draco followed me over, my already overly sensitized pussy milking his orgasm from him and sending me up on another wave of pure, unadulterated bliss.

When our orgasms had started to subside, Draco’s arm finally gave out and he collapsed on top of me, panting for breath. My arms automatically wrapped around him, holding him there, using his solidity to ground me, to focus. It was only when I felt his hand pull at my arm, disentangling it from his waist, did I realize he was seeking out my left hand and sliding on the ring. I felt his tears on my chest, and could feel the way his back heaved beneath my right hand that he was crying.

I smiled, bringing my left hand up to brush his hair away from his face, my eyes shining brightly. “Yes. A million times yes. And more over, I will marry you.”

He lifted his head then, a smile the likes I’d never seen before splitting his face in two and lighting up the entire room before his mouth descended to mine, claiming me in a soul searing kiss. I used the moment to flip him over onto his back, making sure to keep him still buried within me.

“Although, you do realize we’ll embarrass the hell out of everyone when they ask how you proposed, don’t you?” I grinned down at him, pressing my palms against his chest. His response was to thrust up into me, causing my eyes to roll back in my head as my entire body began to hum once more.

Not any at all.

~Fin~