Chapter Text
This certainly was not ideal.
Not that Hermione expected things to become easier as she grew older-she knew it wouldn’t, not with the side she had picked. But still, she felt free to hope that things would remain as pleasant as possible as the war grew closer.
Unfortunately, on the train to her 6th year at Hogwarts, those dreams were dashed to pieces.
She hadn’t meant to get caught up in it all-really, she hadn’t. It wasn’t her fault that Harry had put on his Invisibility Cloak and disappeared, or that Ron had gotten bored of her reading and left to find a more exciting compartment. All the same, with her tucked into the corner closest to the door, book in hand, her compartment appeared empty.
So, naturally, someone looking for some peace and quiet would try this as their first option.
As it was, the person seeking solace was none other than Draco Malfoy. The last person that Hermione expected, or wanted, to see.
He came bursting into the compartment, slamming the door at an alarming speed before turning to glare down the hallway, as though daring someone to try to follow him.
It took Hermione several seconds of staring to register that he thought he was alone. She cleared her throat, and he jumped, spinning to point his wand directly at her forehead. He only relaxed slightly when he realized who he was facing, and he did not lower the wand.
“What are you doing here?” He questioned, as though he hadn’t been the one to barge in.
“The same as you, I’d reckon.” Hermione responded, sending him a cool glare. “Going to school.”
“Get out.” He tried, but she responded with a sharp laugh, shaking her head as she pushed his wand away.
“I was here first, Malfoy. If you want privacy, find another compartment.” She watched as he lowered his wand, and sent another glare down the corridor.
He seemed nervous-full of pent up energy with nowhere to put it. He had grown over the summer-his shoulda had broadened, and his muscles had filled out, making him look more man than boy. He also appeared somewhat paler than she had last seen him, though she couldn’t place why.
“Well?” She was snapped from her reverie, and she realized he must have said something, judging from his sneer. Something she had missed because she was examining his body.
“Sorry, what?” His sneer only deepened.
“I said, if you don’t move, we’ll be sharing the compartment.” He repeated slowly, as though she were too dumb to keep up.
“That’s not a very nice way to ask me to move.” Hermione respond-and she didn’t plan on moving, refusing to give him what he so clearly wanted.
He growled-yes, growled-at her before taking a seat, refusing to admit to his own bluff.
“I take it Potter and Weasley don’t plan on returning.” He muttered, now turning his glare to the landscape passing outside the window.
Hermione shrugged. “I’m not interesting enough, apparently.” She lifted the copy of Advanced Potions she was reading for emphasis. Draco scoffed.
“Of course you’re not. They have better things to do, like stalking classmates.” He muttered, rolling his eyes. Hermione raised an eyebrow. Obviously, Harry wasn’t as discrete as he thought he was.
“That’s who you’re hiding from, then? Is Harry too scary for you?” Hermione taunted with a faint smirk.
Draco began to retort, but was cut off by a voice echoing down the corridor.
“Drakie? Where’d you run off to?” It was unmistakably Pansy Parkinson’s simpering voice, and Draco paled a bit more at the sound of it.
“Ah. I see. Hiding from your new girlfriend, then. I didn’t know you two were an item.” Hermione said, and Draco shot her a glare.
“She’s not my girlfriend.” He said, tone clipped. It clearly frustrates him, and Hermione was having fun with this new game.
“She certainly seems to think so, Drakie.” Hermione said, and the nickname was echoed by Pansy, who was drawing closer.
“Shut up.” Draco growled, and they heard the door next to theirs slide open, followed by Pansy asking about Draco’s whereabouts.
“Should I call her, or let her find you on her own?” Hermione mused. “She must be missing you terribly.” The door slid shut, and footsteps grew closer.
“Well?” Hermione prompted, particularly enjoying the conflicted look on his face, and the panic that grew with every footfall.
The door handle turned, and Draco lunged at her. Hermione hardly had time to react before his lips were on hers.
It was a burning kiss, and although Hermione had been kissed before, she had never experienced anything like this. She vaguely heard the door slide open, and her book fall to the floor, but she couldn’t quite seem to get a grasp on any of it. The whole world seemed to be wrapped up in his soft lips moving against hers.
There was a sharp gasp, but Hermione’s head was spinning. She was barely in control of herself as she reached a hand up to wind her fingers through the back of his hair. His hands were doing the same, tugging at her hair as he pulled her closer.
“How dare you?!” Pansy screeched, and Draco pulled back then, leaving a dazed Hermione leaning against the compartment wall. “Do I mean nothing to you? Am I so low that you would snog that fucking Mudblood instead of me?!” Her tone rose with every word, which Hermione might have found impressive if she wasn’t so confused.
“Yes.” Draco responded simply, his hands still tangled in Hermione’s hair. Pansy let out a choked sob before spinning away, slamming the door behind her and rushing down the corridor.
That should have been the end of it. She should have shoved him away, demanding answers, and that would be that. He should have shoved her away, if she wasn’t going to do it herself.
Instead, his lips found hers again, and the mind numbing sensations took over once more.
It was like a living fireworks show. His lips on hers was the most amazing feeling, and she didn’t want it to end-until he began trailing them down her neck instead. She let out soft moans as he sucked on her skin, and his grip on her seemed to tighten, spurred on by her noises.
She couldn’t think of anything, except for how she felt in that moment. It was absolutely glorious, the way his hands felt against the skin of her thighs and stomach and in her hair. He was everywhere, all at once, and she vaguely registered that her hands were reaching for the same thing. She wanted-no, she needed to be touching him. Needed it like she needed air to breathe.
She should have been horrified. She should have screamed at him to get away, she should have cursed him, she should have cried out for help. But she didn’t. She, instead, moaned as he sucked at her neck and gave her marks that would be difficult to conceal, and gasped as his lips met hers again, starting the sensations anew. She didn’t know what was happening, but she felt like it was a good thing.
And then the compartment door slid open again.
Somehow, Hermione had wound up in Draco’s lap, lips locked as she ground her hips against him. She almost couldn’t bring herself to care that they were being watched, because she felt drunk on the feelings. She was addicted-she couldn’t get enough.
“Let go of her!” Came a shout-Hermione knew that voice, and she wanted to tell them that it was okay, she was alright. But she couldn’t seem to pull away from Malfoy.
There were a few more shouts-unintelligible things, and beams of light, and then suddenly they were separated, and Hermione was screaming. Bloody screaming, because she had to take her hands off him.
He didn’t seem to be faring any better, as he was fighting off three other boys at once in a mad attempt to get to her, eyes dark with both lust and rage. He wanted her-he needed her, just like she needed him, and she tried to reach for him, but a spell was muttered and the world went dark.