Restless

I’d like to thank margaritama for her awesome betaing skills on structure, plot and excellent input. I’d also like to thank Solitudarian for her excellent grammar and editing input!


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Hermione Granger, Hogwarts’ Head girl, known as the Gryffindor princess amongst the other houses and brightest witch of her age to all and sundry sat at a table in the Heads Common Room, with her chin in her palm, listlessly watching the clouds move across the sky. She gave a long sigh, completely frustrated with her inability to concentrate on any one thing for any length of time.


She was just so restless; she didn't feel like doing homework. She didn't feel like going through the multiple lists she created for her study and head girl schedules. She did not know what she wanted. She felt itchy, antsy and unsettled. What normally gave her such infinite pleasure and satisfaction couldn’t even garner the least bit of her attention. She wouldn’t have minded if this was just a onetime thing but this dissatisfaction was happening more and more frequently .


Sighing loudly again, she looked around the Heads Common Room; Malfoy had left his Quidditch gear next to the staircase again. She had almost tripped on it a week ago and told him to move it to his room. He had, of course, completely ignored her.


Gods, he made her so angry. Who did he think he was swaggering around as if he owned the bloody castle and his idiotic admirers following him around like an inane gaggle of geese? He was a pureblooded, arrogant, egotistical prat, a prat with platinum blond hair and broad shoulders… Wait, no, not broad shoulders, he was just wide- shouldered, long-limbed with lean delicious muscles from all of the Quidditch he played.


What. The. Hell. Hermione clapped her hands to her eyes – STOP IT! This was Malfoy, what was she thinking?


He was most certainly NOT delicious and who cared if he had muscles. Lots of guys had muscles. No, Malfoy was a prat who could do nothing more than sneer and smirk making his pointed face look more pointed. No, not pointed, it used to be pointed but he had somehow filled out, his face was now more sculpted, more masculine. The sneers and smirks no longer made him look like a petulant little boy, those sneers and smirks made him look a little devilish . . . and beautiful. He looked so devilishly beautiful it made her ache. Hermione dropped her head onto the table and groaned.


He had come back seventh year looking and acting all grown up. Gone was the boy and in his place was a man. Hermione had no idea when he had become unbearably attractive to her. Maybe it was because he took his head duties seriously, he reviewed every suggestion she and the other prefects made, proposed quite a few of his own and insisted on joint leadership. Or, maybe it was the fact that he spent long hours studying, he vied with her for top academic position in every one of their classes. Or perhaps it was because he no longer made fun of the other houses. He considered everyone’s input when in prior years he had insulted anyone who dared make any opinion known. Or possibly it was when she had seen him walk out of the shared head’s bathroom clad in just a towel slung low on his hips. She had honestly forgotten to breathe when she saw that carved chest, rippling abs and a line of white golden hair that glittered against his skin and trailed down underneath the towel.


Now, butterflies would dance in her tummy every time he looked her way, spoke to her or sneered at her. Those butterflies made her so nervous she countered everything she said or did with extra reserve and coolness. It would not do to have him get the slightest hint that she found him remotely attractive, despite his arrogance and attitude. After all he was still a prat, hadn’t he proven that for the last six years?


‘I can’t believe I feel this way, I want it to go away but it gets worse every time I see him!’ She thought. She sighed and with chin in hand once more she watched the clouds roll across the sky.


Something heavy dropped onto the table where she sat. Startled, she looked up to find herself staring straight into angry, silver eyes. She felt her heart catch in her throat then it began to beat hard and fast. The aforementioned butterflies fluttering like crazy.


Grimacing and looking away from him, she asked “What?” in a bored, cold tone. What had he slammed onto the table and why?


“Granger, we are Head Boy and Girl of this school, which means, we plan the prefect schedule together. Together doesn’t mean you go off develop and implement it alone without consulting me.”


Hermione raised her eyebrow and said disdainfully, “Malfoy, I’ve asked you repeatedly to work with me, yet you couldn’t give me the time of day. Therefore, I did your job AGAIN. You should be thanking me.” She began picking up her books and placing them in her school bag.


Draco stood by the table practically steaming with anger; she had been doing bullshit like this since the start of the year. Making decisions without any input from him. In fact, she seemed to be purposefully asking to meet with him when she knew he was not available due to classes or Quidditch practice. And no, he was not about to drop a Quidditch practice to meet with her - Head’s duties be damned. His schedule allowed plenty of time for them to meet, he had given her his schedule so that she would take a bit more care when selecting a time for them to work together but to no avail. More irritating of late was the bitching about what he left about in the HCR, it was as if he was living with a fishwife. The Head Common Room was just as much his as it was hers.


Gods, she irritated him as no other woman ever had. She was such a high and mighty bitch, prancing around like the little Gryffindor princess she was, issuing orders and commands to whomever she pleased expecting to be obeyed without question. A little princess who right now could not be bothered to even grace him with a glance whilst he spoke to her. Who the hell did she think she was?


That made him even angrier, how dare she not look at him while he spoke to her. She looked completely put out about even having to be in the same room with him let alone speak to him, as if she could not be bothered to provide him with her oh so valuable attention.


“Look at me when I speak to you.” He snarled down at her. “This is pure bullocks, Granger, and you know it. Once again, you have gone off half-cocked and done things your way because you do not want to incorporate anyone else’s opinion. I dislike being surprised with questions on a schedule I know nothing about. I am telling you right now, this ends. I’m sick of your attitude; you need to consult with me before you implement anything else.”


Hermione stood up now, all restlessness and listlessness gone. How dare he threaten her, she never got this kind of push back from Harry or Ron, he should be thanking her for getting the work done. Devilish beauty be damned, how dare he tell her what to do!


“Who do you think you are?” Merlin, he smelled so good. “I am not one of your little house elves or mindless minions, Malfoy. You do not tell me what to do. I’ll do whatever I think is best to ensure things run smoothly.” She was so angry now that static electricity seemed to be emanating from her. Her hair seemed wilder than ever, honey brown curls flew everywhere and her dark chocolate-colored eyes were flashing.


Moving towards Draco, she raised her index finger and jammed it into his chest, “I am sick of you not pulling your weight Malfoy. You think you can breeze in and out of the Heads Common Room as you please with little to no thought on your responsibilities. You need to start making more of an effort so I wouldn’t have to do your job for you, understand?” She poked her finger into his chest to emphasize each sentence.


Draco incensed, grabbed her finger and pulled her against him so she was trapped between the edge of the table and his body. Standing down looking at her he snarled, “I don’t like your tone. You. Do. Not. EVER. tell me what to do. I am not one of your little Weasel or Potty pets to do tricks at your command.”


Hermione was shocked at how neatly trapped she was between Draco and the table. She could feel the heat and hardness of his body, her heart double-timed and warmth shot straight to her groin. This was not good; she needed to free herself immediately. She began to struggle and pull her finger free. In one quick movement, he neatly trapped her wrists together behind her back, her palms flat against the table.


He pushed harder against her; she realized all at once that he was much larger, much stronger, and very angry. If she were being completely honest, she would admit she might have been pushing him very hard of late.


But she never got this push back from Harry and Ron. They always did what she told them to do. They never ignored her requests. In fact, no one ignored her requests except Malfoy. He not only ignored her, he questioned some of her decisions. It drove her to the brink of madness. In fact, he got her so riled up she felt driven to begin making demands because he was not doing anything that she asked of him.


In her precarious position, she also realized her wand was in her school bag, which she had stupidly left on the floor next to her chair when she had stood up to poke Malfoy in the chest. Not smart.


Draco had her trapped between his lower body and the table. Pressing into her harder he could feel her soft breasts push against his chest, her hips molded into his. Blood rushed to his cock and he felt it begin to harden against her.


What. The. Hell. His heart started to beat a bit faster. This was Granger, what was he doing?


Gods, she was a tiny, fiery, little thing, barely coming up to his chin. This always surprised him because her personality loomed so large.


There was no one like her. She drove him absolutely crazy, he loved to rile her up but she always had to push it to that next level. He wanted to shut that gorgeous mouth of hers up and dominate her. Hell, half the time he wasn’t sure if he wanted to strike her or fuck her. The lower half of his body was definitely moving towards the latter.


He looked at her flushed face, those huge brown eyes were dilated. He could feel her heartbeat quicken in her anger. Merlin, she smelled good. He wanted control and he wanted it badly. He leaned his head down, brushed his lips against her ear and whispered hotly, “You mind me Princess, not the other way around. Keep up the attitude, the stupid little power plays and you won’t like the consequences.” He ground his hips into hers then bit hard on her earlobe before suddenly turning, walking up the stairs to his room and shutting the door.


“Oh my Gods, what just happened?” Hermione could barely catch her breath. Sure, they yelled insults and goaded each other to no end but it had never escalated so quickly or physically.


When he had pressed his hard body into her then whispered in her ear, his moist, warm breath played across her ear and neck causing her to shiver. The bite caused her sex to clench with need and in instant moisture soaked her knickers. She gently pressed fingers to her ear then dropped her hand to see blood dotting her trembling fingertips. Holding her ear and choking back a sob, she grabbed her bag and ran up to her room, shutting, locking and warding her door.

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