The Bracelet, Chapter 90/103
Title: The Bracelet
Author: AkashaTheKitty
Characters: Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson, Ron Weasley, Theodore Nott (whew)
Genres: Drama, Friendship, Hogwarts Years, Humor, Romance
Warnings: HBP Spoilers, although slightly incompatible.
Overall Rating: R
Summary: When Hermione Granger loses a bet she was sure she'd win to Draco Malfoy, it's the beginning of her own personal hell. And his.
Go here if you didn't read previous chapters.
Draco was praying to any deity that would have him for fortitude. The sexiest witch in the world was writhing with ecstasy in his arms and his hand was… he could feel the hotness and the wetness and the way her muscles contracted.
Taking the ring off had helped, sure, but he was still so, so close just from seeing her, hearing her, smelling her, touching her…. It would be so easy to just have her right now, up against the wall. She wouldn't mind, he knew. Not even if he only lasted seconds, which was likely if he didn't find a way to cool down.
Hermione was relaxing against him. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glassy, and a few strands of her hair were plastered to her forehead. She looked absolutely lovely. He couldn't help but hold her close, tightening his arms possessively around her. How could she not realize how he felt about her?
"I need you, Hermione," he whispered against her hair, meaning it in more ways than she could possibly comprehend.
She nodded a bit sluggishly. "Why don't we go lie down? It can't be easy carrying me this long and I'm not very much up to carrying myself right now…."
He let her go as she moved to untangle herself from him and watched with satisfaction as she could barely walk straight the few steps to his bed.
She was still wearing the skirt.
He loved that she was still wearing the skirt.
He loved even more that she made no attempt to remove it.
"Why are you still wearing your trousers?" she murmured after she'd sat down.
Because if he hadn't been, then he'd have lost it long ago. She probably knew that already, though, so instead of replying, he slipped one hand into his pocket and into the ring waiting there. Her emotions slammed into him.
Satisfaction. Pleasure. Expectation.
Want.
He wanted to please her so much it scared him. So much it made him hesitate.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Nothing," he replied. He couldn't exactly share this inexplicable feeling. Burdening her with how intensely he felt about her would only add unnecessary pressure and who'd want to share feelings like that with someone who wouldn't believe or welcome them, anyway? She wasn't ignorant of his feelings. She was afraid that he would hurt her if she let him close; he saw that now.
He didn't plan on hurting her, but he fully expected this experience to hurt him. She was going to walk off and leave him alone again and it was going to rip him apart.
"Lie back," he softly said, looking over her body as she did so. He really had to remember that this was just their bodies coming together.
"Are you just going to stand there?" she prodded.
He gave her a crooked smile and opened his trousers. Her eyes widened and she sat up to follow his movements. He realized that she hadn't really seen him last time, but her curiosity still felt a little embarrassing to him.
The embarrassment lessened when she got some of her curiosity sated and he could feel her need spike. The visual of her squirming a little on the bed, pressing her legs together, eradicated any lingering self-consciousness on his part as he removed his last piece of clothing.
Apparently the visual of his state did the same for her.
As if she had anything to be self-conscious about.
He supposed that might be part of what scared him and made him hesitate. To know that he loved and adored-not to mention desired-her more than anything or anyone else and she… she thought she couldn't even trust him not to ridicule her. She thought it was just physical. She thought this was just a harmless way to take care of an itch. She thought walking away afterwards would be easy.
It probably would be for her.
Now naked, he slowly sat down next to her and bent to kiss her. She accepted the kiss and even responded, pressing up against him.
He was helpless. He had to at least try to show her.
Hermione felt the hesitation in Draco and was afraid he'd changed his mind right until he kissed her with a passion that hadn't been apparent in his body language.
Well, except maybe parts of it. One particular part certainly never changed its mind.
But that kiss was so fierce and so intense, she could hardly do anything but hang on for dear life as his lips and tongue called the shots. One of his hands slipped down to stroke her breast and then quite without a warning suddenly pinched her, making her gasp with the unexpected pain.
He smiled darkly. "Did you trust me not to do that?" he then asked, his voice smooth as silk. His hand was now stroking her tender, abused flesh.
Hermione was a little confused. "I… hadn't thought about it, really," she muttered.
"I wanted to do it," he said as if he were a bit surprised with himself. "And I want to do this as well…." He bent down to nip her lip hard.
She made a startled sound.
"I know," he muttered, soothing the nipped lip with his tongue. "I think I might be a little angry with you."
"Why?" she asked, already quite distracted by his tongue.
He hesitated. "For saying you don't trust me," he then concluded. "I'm not asking you to trust me with your life, but…." He shrugged.
"I can live with you biting my lip or taking me roughly as long as you do, you know, take me…" she said. She should probably have felt more self-conscious about that statement but, really, right now all she could think of was him, inside of her, moving…. Who cared how he did it? As long as he did.
He made a strange sound deep in his throat. "I'm not going to be rough with you," he rasped. "Does that disappoint you?"
She considered. "Not really… mind telling me how you plan to be, then?"
"How about showing you?"
Even better! She couldn't seem to make the words come out, though. Instead there was just a moan.
He closed his eyes for a second and then laid down, pulling her on top of him. "Like this," he whispered. "You can decide the pace now."
Her on top? She could see why it would appeal to him. He could lie back and watch her body and the way that silly little skirt he'd wanted her to wear draped over his belly and her thighs, hiding their connection and somehow making it sexier. She didn't have much time to think about it, though, before he had positioned her exactly as he wanted her and then he moved and… merciful God!!
His fingers painfully dug into her thighs. "Please… Hermione…" he panted. "Y-your responses…"
She'd never figured that she'd have him begging to enjoy herself less, but she made an effort to suppress some of her feelings. It wasn't easy, though, considering that each movement rubbed her just right where she was still sensitive from before.
"You're going to kill me," he was muttering. "That's it, you're going to kill me, and they're going to find my drained corpse…."
She smiled at his silliness and moved faster, reveling in just how well they seemed to fit together. She knew she was close, that it wasn't going to be long, and no amount of him begging her to hold off could change that.
He reached up and roughly dragged her head down for a kiss. She didn't mind. She was becoming rather frantic herself. Feverish. The need for release was all-consuming.
"Hermione," he suddenly said, his voice strangely… different. "Say that you love me."
Hermione's eyes widened and she lost her rhythm. It had been a command. She could feel the compulsion pulling at her. She stared at him, but his eyes were tightly shut as if he knew she wouldn't like the command, but wanted to ignore it.
"I… love you…" she quietly and hesitantly said. The statement didn't cause meteors to rain on her head, which sort of stupidly surprised her. In fact, it didn't feel as strange as it perhaps should have.
He moaned as if in pain, moving under her, reminding her to resume her pace. She did, and he whispered, "Again."
So, she told him again.
She knew he was close, because she was, and apparently these words gave him pleasure, so right before she gave in to the climax, she whispered them to him one last time before she was swept away.
He stiffened under her, straining up, and she knew that her climax had brought his on. She bent down to kiss him in a haze of post-orgasm tenderness, but to her surprise, he turned his head away.
She told herself it didn't mean anything. He probably just had trouble getting enough oxygen to his brain.
She hoped he didn't notice how it hurt.
Draco tasted blood and swallowed. Not telling her that he loved her too, not begging her to give him a chance, not showing her exactly how pathetically love-struck he was had taken all he had and then some.
His tongue had taken the brunt of it as he'd bit down on it to keep the words from flowing. Not wanting her to taste the blood, he'd even denied himself a kiss he wanted more than anything.
She hadn't meant her words. Not even when he hadn't told her to say it. She'd just known he wanted to hear it. He didn't need the ring to tell him that. He desperately wanted to hold her close and kiss her and thank her for giving him that much. But he couldn't. She'd given him what he needed, now he had to give her what she needed. A physical experience with no strings. He just needed a minute to force back his emotions so he wouldn't give himself away.
This had been beyond anything he could ever have imagined.
She'd moved off him as soon as they'd got their breaths back and he knew that at some point he had to open his eyes and acknowledge her, and he had to do it without letting anything on. Without showing her how much it hurt to let her go again.
Slowly, he opened his eyes to look at her. She was biting her lip and picking at his duvet. He hadn't really been paying attention for the last few minutes, but she was oozing confusion and insecurity.
"Well, that's that then," he said as nonchalantly as he could.
She almost jumped. "What's what?"
"Your test?"
"Oh. Right. Yeah. I guess." She went back to picking at the duvet, but then apparently decided she felt naked, because she jumped up and began collecting her clothes.
He wanted to tell her not to worry, but how could he without acknowledging his feelings to her again? He sighed and decided he might as well also get dressed. He wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight.
"So, um, when you had me say…" she began when she felt she was suitably covered. He miserably noticed that the fantasy-skirt had once again become real-world-trousers. "I mean, when you told me to-"
"It was just a fantasy," he said, ignoring the pang in his chest and doing his best to sound indifferent. "I just wondered what it would be like…."
"Oh." She blushed and there was a pronounced awkwardness. He really didn't need the ring for this. He reached out and removed her bracelet, taking a deep breath when the void hit him, and trying not to let it show how it depressed him to lose her presence, and then he yanked the ring off his own finger.
"Don't worry," he said, after carelessly tossing the jewelry onto the bedside table. "It had nothing to do with you. I just wanted to know what it would be like if someone…." He couldn't finish the sentence. It was such a stupid lie. He hated the never-ending lies. Why couldn't she just be fine with his feelings being what they were?
"So it could have been anyone?" she quietly asked.
"I guess," he muttered, unable to look at her. "I figured it wouldn't hurt. I'm sorry that I forced it instead of asking you, but I guess I was just a little too far gone to ask politely."
Dragon dung. He hadn't asked because she would have refused and he'd been desperate to hear the words from her mouth, even if they were forced. He really just had wanted to know what it would be like to make love to her and have her return his feelings. He'd wanted to imagine that she was his.
The fantasy had been both the best and the worst experience of his life. Now he had to live with knowing what he couldn't have.
"It's… it's ok…." Her voice was very soft, almost inaudible.
It wasn't ok. He shouldn't have forced it. But damn him if he could even remotely find it in himself to regret having done it. He would be dreaming of softly whispered I love you's from her for months to come.
And, really, what had she had to lose?
Hermione tried to digest Draco's words. He'd just wanted someone to tell him they loved him in bed. That was a good thing, right? It was just her ego smarting. It was never pleasant to be told that you'd gone out of your way to do something anyone else could have done just as well.
He could probably have found another witch who'd have had an easier time with telling him the words, whether they were true or not, but no. He had to torment her and make her… make her tell him words she'd never told anyone.
And then, worse, act as if it had been nothing. Act as if he didn't care either way when she'd just for a moment thought….
She forced herself to stop obsessing. They were just words. Meaningless words, even. Apparently. They weren't even worth investigating-he'd just said as much! She'd been silly for thinking that maybe… maybe he wanted her love, even if just in a fantasy. He was over her. Since they'd finished, he hadn't even tried to touch her and he'd rejected her kiss, effectively shooting down any attempt at cuddling or any behavior that could mean affection.
She'd actually thought she'd be sleeping here again but… his demeanor seemed to be kicking her out of his bed and she wasn't one to overstay her welcome.
"So… um…" she said, trying to get her mind off this very sore subject. "I don't suppose it would be a good idea to repeat this?"
He immediately adamantly shook his head. "No," he agreed with a finality that had her heart find a new home in her stomach. "I don't either. I'm quite relieved you say that."
Ok, now she wanted to cry. She could be anyone when saying highly personal and intimate things and he didn't even want her physically again? But… hadn't it been good? She blinked furiously and turned away under the pretense of finding her other shoe. Funny thing was, he acted much too oblivious to seem to be doing it on purpose, but he'd certainly found a way to hurt her. She supposed she'd seen the signs. He'd just wanted to get in, get off and get out.
Except she would be doing the getting out.
"Is something the matter?" he asked her back after she'd been fiddling with the dumb shoe for a small eternity.
She cleared her throat. "No. I was just thinking I'd best be going."
"I'll walk you out."
"No!" She couldn't bear the thought of him awkwardly and politely walking her out of the dungeons, thanking her for a nice lay. Especially since she wasn't up to pretending she really was all right when looking him in the eyes. "I mean… no, if I'm caught on my own I can claim I was down here on Head Girl business. You just… stay."
She quickly slipped out before he could do or say anything else. She decided to make haste, as the tears were threatening to spill. It was late, though, and she didn't actually expect to run into anyone, so by the time she'd reached the Slytherin common room, they were already flowing down her cheeks. She bent her head and hurriedly stepped forward.
"Aw, hell!" an annoyed voice said. "What do you-?"
Startled, she looked up at the voice to see Blaise Zabini standing there. Great. Her clothes were ruffled and her hair was a mess because she hadn't really thought to fix either completely. She knew there could be no real question as to what had happened.
His annoyance seemed to melt into shock at the sight of her face. "Aw, hell…."
That's when she realized he'd seen she was crying. She quickly brushed the tears off her cheeks. "Not one word," she hissed. "And you won't tell him either!"
"I assume you mean Draco, and why not? It would be a grand way to make him suffer to let him know he made you cry after you…." He made a gesture that indicated her appearance. "That's what you're all about… isn't it?" It sounded more like a legitimate question than an accusation for once, but Hermione was much too embarrassed and desperate to shut him up to marvel at it.
"Don't stir things up, Zabini," she warned. "He knows what happened. He's not fool enough to not realize." But maybe, just maybe, she'd hidden it well enough that they both could pretend he hadn't realized. That was what she hoped for, anyway.
"I think you underestimate how great a fool Draco is."
"I mean it, Zabini! Don't tell him! If you do, I'll… I'll…" She cast about for any threat that might make him do as she asked. "I'll… I'll tell him that I cried because I regretted what happened. He won't like that, will he?" At least his ego wouldn't. But his ego was all there was left.
Zabini frowned very disapprovingly. "Still spiteful as ever, I see. Fine. You get this one to yourself. But… you know how Draco speaks before he thinks. It would probably be better if you just cleared up the misunderstanding right away."
"There's no misunderstanding," she muttered. No, it had been fairly clear how he felt. And how he didn't feel. "If you'll excuse me, I seem to be in dire need of a bath." She hurried out of the room and out into the halls.
She needed to make it to her room before she began crying again, just in case anyone else was up late. They couldn't know. Nobody else could know. It was too humiliating.
Author: AkashaTheKitty
Characters: Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson, Ron Weasley, Theodore Nott (whew)
Genres: Drama, Friendship, Hogwarts Years, Humor, Romance
Warnings: HBP Spoilers, although slightly incompatible.
Overall Rating: R
Summary: When Hermione Granger loses a bet she was sure she'd win to Draco Malfoy, it's the beginning of her own personal hell. And his.
Go here if you didn't read previous chapters.
Draco was praying to any deity that would have him for fortitude. The sexiest witch in the world was writhing with ecstasy in his arms and his hand was… he could feel the hotness and the wetness and the way her muscles contracted.
Taking the ring off had helped, sure, but he was still so, so close just from seeing her, hearing her, smelling her, touching her…. It would be so easy to just have her right now, up against the wall. She wouldn't mind, he knew. Not even if he only lasted seconds, which was likely if he didn't find a way to cool down.
Hermione was relaxing against him. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glassy, and a few strands of her hair were plastered to her forehead. She looked absolutely lovely. He couldn't help but hold her close, tightening his arms possessively around her. How could she not realize how he felt about her?
"I need you, Hermione," he whispered against her hair, meaning it in more ways than she could possibly comprehend.
She nodded a bit sluggishly. "Why don't we go lie down? It can't be easy carrying me this long and I'm not very much up to carrying myself right now…."
He let her go as she moved to untangle herself from him and watched with satisfaction as she could barely walk straight the few steps to his bed.
She was still wearing the skirt.
He loved that she was still wearing the skirt.
He loved even more that she made no attempt to remove it.
"Why are you still wearing your trousers?" she murmured after she'd sat down.
Because if he hadn't been, then he'd have lost it long ago. She probably knew that already, though, so instead of replying, he slipped one hand into his pocket and into the ring waiting there. Her emotions slammed into him.
Satisfaction. Pleasure. Expectation.
Want.
He wanted to please her so much it scared him. So much it made him hesitate.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Nothing," he replied. He couldn't exactly share this inexplicable feeling. Burdening her with how intensely he felt about her would only add unnecessary pressure and who'd want to share feelings like that with someone who wouldn't believe or welcome them, anyway? She wasn't ignorant of his feelings. She was afraid that he would hurt her if she let him close; he saw that now.
He didn't plan on hurting her, but he fully expected this experience to hurt him. She was going to walk off and leave him alone again and it was going to rip him apart.
"Lie back," he softly said, looking over her body as she did so. He really had to remember that this was just their bodies coming together.
"Are you just going to stand there?" she prodded.
He gave her a crooked smile and opened his trousers. Her eyes widened and she sat up to follow his movements. He realized that she hadn't really seen him last time, but her curiosity still felt a little embarrassing to him.
The embarrassment lessened when she got some of her curiosity sated and he could feel her need spike. The visual of her squirming a little on the bed, pressing her legs together, eradicated any lingering self-consciousness on his part as he removed his last piece of clothing.
Apparently the visual of his state did the same for her.
As if she had anything to be self-conscious about.
He supposed that might be part of what scared him and made him hesitate. To know that he loved and adored-not to mention desired-her more than anything or anyone else and she… she thought she couldn't even trust him not to ridicule her. She thought it was just physical. She thought this was just a harmless way to take care of an itch. She thought walking away afterwards would be easy.
It probably would be for her.
Now naked, he slowly sat down next to her and bent to kiss her. She accepted the kiss and even responded, pressing up against him.
He was helpless. He had to at least try to show her.
Hermione felt the hesitation in Draco and was afraid he'd changed his mind right until he kissed her with a passion that hadn't been apparent in his body language.
Well, except maybe parts of it. One particular part certainly never changed its mind.
But that kiss was so fierce and so intense, she could hardly do anything but hang on for dear life as his lips and tongue called the shots. One of his hands slipped down to stroke her breast and then quite without a warning suddenly pinched her, making her gasp with the unexpected pain.
He smiled darkly. "Did you trust me not to do that?" he then asked, his voice smooth as silk. His hand was now stroking her tender, abused flesh.
Hermione was a little confused. "I… hadn't thought about it, really," she muttered.
"I wanted to do it," he said as if he were a bit surprised with himself. "And I want to do this as well…." He bent down to nip her lip hard.
She made a startled sound.
"I know," he muttered, soothing the nipped lip with his tongue. "I think I might be a little angry with you."
"Why?" she asked, already quite distracted by his tongue.
He hesitated. "For saying you don't trust me," he then concluded. "I'm not asking you to trust me with your life, but…." He shrugged.
"I can live with you biting my lip or taking me roughly as long as you do, you know, take me…" she said. She should probably have felt more self-conscious about that statement but, really, right now all she could think of was him, inside of her, moving…. Who cared how he did it? As long as he did.
He made a strange sound deep in his throat. "I'm not going to be rough with you," he rasped. "Does that disappoint you?"
She considered. "Not really… mind telling me how you plan to be, then?"
"How about showing you?"
Even better! She couldn't seem to make the words come out, though. Instead there was just a moan.
He closed his eyes for a second and then laid down, pulling her on top of him. "Like this," he whispered. "You can decide the pace now."
Her on top? She could see why it would appeal to him. He could lie back and watch her body and the way that silly little skirt he'd wanted her to wear draped over his belly and her thighs, hiding their connection and somehow making it sexier. She didn't have much time to think about it, though, before he had positioned her exactly as he wanted her and then he moved and… merciful God!!
His fingers painfully dug into her thighs. "Please… Hermione…" he panted. "Y-your responses…"
She'd never figured that she'd have him begging to enjoy herself less, but she made an effort to suppress some of her feelings. It wasn't easy, though, considering that each movement rubbed her just right where she was still sensitive from before.
"You're going to kill me," he was muttering. "That's it, you're going to kill me, and they're going to find my drained corpse…."
She smiled at his silliness and moved faster, reveling in just how well they seemed to fit together. She knew she was close, that it wasn't going to be long, and no amount of him begging her to hold off could change that.
He reached up and roughly dragged her head down for a kiss. She didn't mind. She was becoming rather frantic herself. Feverish. The need for release was all-consuming.
"Hermione," he suddenly said, his voice strangely… different. "Say that you love me."
Hermione's eyes widened and she lost her rhythm. It had been a command. She could feel the compulsion pulling at her. She stared at him, but his eyes were tightly shut as if he knew she wouldn't like the command, but wanted to ignore it.
"I… love you…" she quietly and hesitantly said. The statement didn't cause meteors to rain on her head, which sort of stupidly surprised her. In fact, it didn't feel as strange as it perhaps should have.
He moaned as if in pain, moving under her, reminding her to resume her pace. She did, and he whispered, "Again."
So, she told him again.
She knew he was close, because she was, and apparently these words gave him pleasure, so right before she gave in to the climax, she whispered them to him one last time before she was swept away.
He stiffened under her, straining up, and she knew that her climax had brought his on. She bent down to kiss him in a haze of post-orgasm tenderness, but to her surprise, he turned his head away.
She told herself it didn't mean anything. He probably just had trouble getting enough oxygen to his brain.
She hoped he didn't notice how it hurt.
Draco tasted blood and swallowed. Not telling her that he loved her too, not begging her to give him a chance, not showing her exactly how pathetically love-struck he was had taken all he had and then some.
His tongue had taken the brunt of it as he'd bit down on it to keep the words from flowing. Not wanting her to taste the blood, he'd even denied himself a kiss he wanted more than anything.
She hadn't meant her words. Not even when he hadn't told her to say it. She'd just known he wanted to hear it. He didn't need the ring to tell him that. He desperately wanted to hold her close and kiss her and thank her for giving him that much. But he couldn't. She'd given him what he needed, now he had to give her what she needed. A physical experience with no strings. He just needed a minute to force back his emotions so he wouldn't give himself away.
This had been beyond anything he could ever have imagined.
She'd moved off him as soon as they'd got their breaths back and he knew that at some point he had to open his eyes and acknowledge her, and he had to do it without letting anything on. Without showing her how much it hurt to let her go again.
Slowly, he opened his eyes to look at her. She was biting her lip and picking at his duvet. He hadn't really been paying attention for the last few minutes, but she was oozing confusion and insecurity.
"Well, that's that then," he said as nonchalantly as he could.
She almost jumped. "What's what?"
"Your test?"
"Oh. Right. Yeah. I guess." She went back to picking at the duvet, but then apparently decided she felt naked, because she jumped up and began collecting her clothes.
He wanted to tell her not to worry, but how could he without acknowledging his feelings to her again? He sighed and decided he might as well also get dressed. He wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight.
"So, um, when you had me say…" she began when she felt she was suitably covered. He miserably noticed that the fantasy-skirt had once again become real-world-trousers. "I mean, when you told me to-"
"It was just a fantasy," he said, ignoring the pang in his chest and doing his best to sound indifferent. "I just wondered what it would be like…."
"Oh." She blushed and there was a pronounced awkwardness. He really didn't need the ring for this. He reached out and removed her bracelet, taking a deep breath when the void hit him, and trying not to let it show how it depressed him to lose her presence, and then he yanked the ring off his own finger.
"Don't worry," he said, after carelessly tossing the jewelry onto the bedside table. "It had nothing to do with you. I just wanted to know what it would be like if someone…." He couldn't finish the sentence. It was such a stupid lie. He hated the never-ending lies. Why couldn't she just be fine with his feelings being what they were?
"So it could have been anyone?" she quietly asked.
"I guess," he muttered, unable to look at her. "I figured it wouldn't hurt. I'm sorry that I forced it instead of asking you, but I guess I was just a little too far gone to ask politely."
Dragon dung. He hadn't asked because she would have refused and he'd been desperate to hear the words from her mouth, even if they were forced. He really just had wanted to know what it would be like to make love to her and have her return his feelings. He'd wanted to imagine that she was his.
The fantasy had been both the best and the worst experience of his life. Now he had to live with knowing what he couldn't have.
"It's… it's ok…." Her voice was very soft, almost inaudible.
It wasn't ok. He shouldn't have forced it. But damn him if he could even remotely find it in himself to regret having done it. He would be dreaming of softly whispered I love you's from her for months to come.
And, really, what had she had to lose?
Hermione tried to digest Draco's words. He'd just wanted someone to tell him they loved him in bed. That was a good thing, right? It was just her ego smarting. It was never pleasant to be told that you'd gone out of your way to do something anyone else could have done just as well.
He could probably have found another witch who'd have had an easier time with telling him the words, whether they were true or not, but no. He had to torment her and make her… make her tell him words she'd never told anyone.
And then, worse, act as if it had been nothing. Act as if he didn't care either way when she'd just for a moment thought….
She forced herself to stop obsessing. They were just words. Meaningless words, even. Apparently. They weren't even worth investigating-he'd just said as much! She'd been silly for thinking that maybe… maybe he wanted her love, even if just in a fantasy. He was over her. Since they'd finished, he hadn't even tried to touch her and he'd rejected her kiss, effectively shooting down any attempt at cuddling or any behavior that could mean affection.
She'd actually thought she'd be sleeping here again but… his demeanor seemed to be kicking her out of his bed and she wasn't one to overstay her welcome.
"So… um…" she said, trying to get her mind off this very sore subject. "I don't suppose it would be a good idea to repeat this?"
He immediately adamantly shook his head. "No," he agreed with a finality that had her heart find a new home in her stomach. "I don't either. I'm quite relieved you say that."
Ok, now she wanted to cry. She could be anyone when saying highly personal and intimate things and he didn't even want her physically again? But… hadn't it been good? She blinked furiously and turned away under the pretense of finding her other shoe. Funny thing was, he acted much too oblivious to seem to be doing it on purpose, but he'd certainly found a way to hurt her. She supposed she'd seen the signs. He'd just wanted to get in, get off and get out.
Except she would be doing the getting out.
"Is something the matter?" he asked her back after she'd been fiddling with the dumb shoe for a small eternity.
She cleared her throat. "No. I was just thinking I'd best be going."
"I'll walk you out."
"No!" She couldn't bear the thought of him awkwardly and politely walking her out of the dungeons, thanking her for a nice lay. Especially since she wasn't up to pretending she really was all right when looking him in the eyes. "I mean… no, if I'm caught on my own I can claim I was down here on Head Girl business. You just… stay."
She quickly slipped out before he could do or say anything else. She decided to make haste, as the tears were threatening to spill. It was late, though, and she didn't actually expect to run into anyone, so by the time she'd reached the Slytherin common room, they were already flowing down her cheeks. She bent her head and hurriedly stepped forward.
"Aw, hell!" an annoyed voice said. "What do you-?"
Startled, she looked up at the voice to see Blaise Zabini standing there. Great. Her clothes were ruffled and her hair was a mess because she hadn't really thought to fix either completely. She knew there could be no real question as to what had happened.
His annoyance seemed to melt into shock at the sight of her face. "Aw, hell…."
That's when she realized he'd seen she was crying. She quickly brushed the tears off her cheeks. "Not one word," she hissed. "And you won't tell him either!"
"I assume you mean Draco, and why not? It would be a grand way to make him suffer to let him know he made you cry after you…." He made a gesture that indicated her appearance. "That's what you're all about… isn't it?" It sounded more like a legitimate question than an accusation for once, but Hermione was much too embarrassed and desperate to shut him up to marvel at it.
"Don't stir things up, Zabini," she warned. "He knows what happened. He's not fool enough to not realize." But maybe, just maybe, she'd hidden it well enough that they both could pretend he hadn't realized. That was what she hoped for, anyway.
"I think you underestimate how great a fool Draco is."
"I mean it, Zabini! Don't tell him! If you do, I'll… I'll…" She cast about for any threat that might make him do as she asked. "I'll… I'll tell him that I cried because I regretted what happened. He won't like that, will he?" At least his ego wouldn't. But his ego was all there was left.
Zabini frowned very disapprovingly. "Still spiteful as ever, I see. Fine. You get this one to yourself. But… you know how Draco speaks before he thinks. It would probably be better if you just cleared up the misunderstanding right away."
"There's no misunderstanding," she muttered. No, it had been fairly clear how he felt. And how he didn't feel. "If you'll excuse me, I seem to be in dire need of a bath." She hurried out of the room and out into the halls.
She needed to make it to her room before she began crying again, just in case anyone else was up late. They couldn't know. Nobody else could know. It was too humiliating.