It's Not Over

A.N.- In this story Voldemort did not come back and there was no war, but the wizarding world is still a place where prejudice abounds.  There's more angst in this story than my other two, but I promise their story will resolve into something meaningful.  I hope you like it!

Draco pinned Hermione to the wall with his body, their tongues dueling, lips crashing together.  Hermione’s hands were wrapped around Draco’s neck, pulling him closer.  She rubbed herself against the hard front of his trousers.  His hands kneaded her breasts through her dress, his fingers pinching her sensitive nipples.  She turned her head and inhaled shakily.

“Malfoy, I have to go.  My friends will come looking for me if I don’t show up to the grad party soon.”

“Fuck your friends.  Come with me to the Room of Requirement,” he said, kissing the sensitive juncture between her neck and shoulder. 

She pushed him slightly, ducking out of his arms.

“Malfoy, I’m going now.  Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”  She righted her clothes, avoiding his angry, passionate gaze.

“This isn’t over, Mudblood.  I’m not done with you yet.”

“It’s over, Malfoy.  But thank you for making it easier for me,” Hermione said, giving him a look of disgust and quickly walking towards Gryffindor Tower. 

Draco kicked the wall, angry that he had resorted to such a hateful epithet.  He felt his eyes burn with frustrated tears. 

During the past school year, they had shared several classes.  There were few students who could keep up with Draco or Hermione, so naturally professors paired them up for several projects.  Hermione had been an excellent partner- hard working, curious, thoughtful.  She never held back compliments about Draco’s equally fastidious work, pleased that she finally had a project partner who could hold their own. 

By December of their final year of school, Draco looked forward to their nightly meetings in the library.  Unlike most students at Hogwarts, even those in his own house, Hermione challenged Draco.  She didn’t care about his fortune or his name.  Draco knew she was giving him a chance to prove to her that he was more than a rich, bigoted wizard. 

By February, Draco was kissing Hermione in dark corners of the castle, leaving purple love bites on her neck.  He loved to muss up her hair before she went back to her dorm for the night.  By April, he was fucking her in empty classrooms or sneaking into her dorm to wake her up with his tongue against her clit. 

In public, Draco acted dismissively of her.  Over time this dichotomy in his behavior bothered Hermione more and more.  Hermione had been hurt and livid when he had asked Astoria Greengrass to the Graduation Ball.  Draco had been bewildered that she was so angry with him for attending the dance with Astoria.  He had assumed she’d go to the ball with one of her Gryffindor flunkies. 

When Hermione realized Draco had chosen to hide their—whatever it was—from everyone she needed to move on.  Her parents encouraged her to attend Muggle university, to round herself out as a person, her mum would say.  She was looking forward to attending uni.  It was the perfect way for her to continue learning and would get her away from the constant judgment of the wizarding world.