"Old Moon Fades:" Chapter Twenty-two
Here it is, Chapter 22: The First Floor Corridor. Thanks to professor_mary for betaing. You are the best!
Title: "Old Moon Fades"
Author: taigan23
Rating: PG-13ish
Summary: In this chapter Hermione confronts Draco about the Protection Charm. This is the long awaited chapter where we have genuine romance!
Old Moon Fades
Chapter Twenty-two: The First Floor Corridor
Finally Hermione made it to the Great Hall. Her legs ached from the brisk pace she’d set on her journey from the Library. She deliberately slowed down as she neared the huge doors and tried to quiet her breathing. Nervously she pulled on her robes and attempted to smooth down her thick hair before opening the door widely. She felt rather odd walking toward the Slytherin table instead of the Gryffindor one. And it appeared that everyone else thought that was odd, too. The Hall was silent once word had gotten round that Hermione Granger was seeking out a Slytherin. And not just any Slytherin, but presumably Malfoy.
Hermione scanned the rows of chairs and faces at the Slytherin table, searching for Draco. Finally she spotted him. He was about halfway down the table sitting between Crabbe and Goyle. He was watching her, an amused smirk dancing on his face. He was eating this whole thing up. The entire Hall, students and professors included, had their eyes trained on her as she picked her way around the tables and maneuvered toward Draco. He was openly smirking and had leaned back in his chair to better observe her plight. His food had long since been abandoned in favor of this more enjoyable and ego-boosting activity. She could’ve smacked him. She felt her cheeks color again, but held her head high and continued walking toward him, ignoring the stares and whispers of the other students.
After what had seemed an eternity, she was close enough. Painfully aware of the other students and her own embarrassment, she spoke quietly to the gathered group of Slytherin students. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner, but I was hoping that I could have a word with Draco for a moment. It won’t take long, I promise.”
Crabbe and Goyle seemed surprised and Blaise Zabini looked on with interest. Pansy was several chairs down with the rest of the female Slytherins, and was glaring at her hatefully. Draco, for his part, seemed quite content in his arrogance. His smirk became even more pronounced and his eyes shone brightly in unmasked amusement. The irony of the situation became blatantly obvious when she remembered the week that Draco had spent flooding Gryffindor table with presents, and now here she was trying to get Draco’s attention. It seemed that he was going to make use of this opportunity to gloat.
“What’s this about, Granger?” he asked mirthfully.
Oh, bother. “Well, you see, Malfoy. I just got through talking with Harry, and he relayed to me the details of the conversation you two had last week. I was hoping that I could speak to you about it,” she said as she patted her pocket.
He nodded briskly, his good mood gone, annoyed at having his conversation with Harry brought up in front of the Slytherins. He made his quick goodbyes to his friends and stood up beside her, angrily latching onto her elbow and pulling her from the Great Hall. As the doors slammed shut behind them, Hermione could hear the whispers turn to shouts as the Great Hall erupted with commotion. Honestly, were the Hogwarts students really that low on gossip?
Draco was still pulling her further away from the Hall to prevent any eavesdroppers and to ensure their privacy. Hermione felt her heart pounding against her rib cage. The sound of blood in her ears was so loud that she couldn’t hear anything else. She didn’t think she’d ever been as nervous as she was at that moment. She clenched her hands together, hoping to mask the uncertainty she felt at being alone with him.
He pulled her behind him, up the staircase and down the quiet corridor of the first floor. His private room was just a few doors down from where they stood. The corridor was empty, as it usually was in the evenings, and she felt as if she could hear the echo of her heart beating against the stone walls.
Draco was annoyed. That much was obvious, but she didn’t care since she was so anxious just being alone with him. He was staring at her angrily, his eyes dark and full of unspoken emotions. When he finally did speak, his voice was thick and heavy, and much angrier than she thought it had any right to be.
“Don’t ever do that again. Don’t bring up my relationship with Potter at the Slytherin table,” he shouted. “I can’t believe that you did that!”
“I was just trying to get you to come with me. I didn’t think-”
“No, that’s right. You didn’t think! I just got things sorted out with the Slytherins and you had to go and fuck it all up again!” he yelled as his fists clenched unconsciously. He spun away from her and took a few steps back toward the staircase.
“Don’t do this… Don’t ruin this for me…” she sighed in frustration, her excitement giving way to anger and disappointment.
He turned back around and faced her, his eyes again piercing and angry, but also confused, now. “What are you going on about, Granger?”
Slowly, without taking her eyes off of him, she pulled the thick pouches from her pocket and held them out to him. His eyes dropped quickly to them and then back to her face.
“Potter was supposed to give you those,” he said coldly. He still hadn’t reached forward to take them.
“I know that. But, I didn’t want him to give them to me,” she said quietly, her hand still held out in front of her.
“Are you daft, woman? They’re for your own protection! I’m not trying to ‘buy you off’ or anything, I’m just trying to help you! Why the hell wouldn’t you want them?” he shouted in aggravation. He stepped forward quickly and thrust the velvet encased jewelry inside one of his pockets.
“Because, you idiot, I wanted you to give them to me, not Harry,” she said equally as aggravated as he was, now. “And don’t swear.”
He didn’t say anything in response, other than a quiet “Oh.” The look of surprised confusion quickly gave way to an arrogant smirk. “I see. And so you busted up your study group, came all the way to the Great Hall, and braved the Slytherin table just to tell me that… Hmm,” he said haughtily.
“There’s no need to make fun of me about it.”
“Yeah, there is,” he replied. When he saw that she did not find it as equally amusing as he did, he rolled his eyes and took a step closer. “Oh, come on, Granger. It’s just that you look so cute when you’re mad at me.”
She felt the blood rush back to her face again.
“Stop all that smirking, it’s making me nervous,” she said when he took another step closer.
“Are you sure that’s what’s making you nervous?” he asked quietly, the smirk gone, replaced with a look of such intensity that Hermione felt her knees weaken.
Neither of them spoke for a several long seconds. Finally, he pulled the pouches from his pocket again. “So, it’s alright if I give you one of these? You won’t be offended? I really just wanted to make sure you were safe.”
She nodded slowly, unable to word a response.
“Alright, which one?”
She hesitated. “I don’t know. I didn’t look at them. Just give me the one you originally wanted to give me.”
He nodded curtly and opened one pouch, then the other in search of the one he wanted. He dropped one into his pocket and held the other out to her. But she shook her head and didn’t take it. Silently, he pulled the necklace from the depths of the velvet and held it out in the palm of his hand. The emerald shimmered in the torchlight and winked up at her. It was beautiful.
She finally found her voice and quietly asked, “Will you help me put it on?”
Instead of replying he stepped up close to her, the front of his robes lightly grazing her chest. The emerald was clenched tightly in his fist and the chain dripped from between his fingers as he slowly began pushing Hermione’s robes off her shoulders, and then loosened her tie. He was so close, his face mere inches from her own. Her heart was now pounding and her breathing had become erratic. Unconsciously she inhaled the scent of him. Pepper and exotic spices. She vaguely made the connection that he smelled as beautiful as he looked.
She was startled back to awareness when she felt his fingers at her throat, unbuttoning the top button of her blouse. Her fingers met his almost instantly.
“Wait. No, let me do that,” she whispered.
Her hands were shaking as she fumbled with the top button and then the one below it. His hands were still at her throat and she was distantly aware that he was shaking slightly, too.
When her throat and neck were almost totally exposed, he lifted her hair off her shoulder and pushed it back. The chain dropped down between them as he held the two open ends in his hands. Draco leaned even closer, if that were possible, and she felt his fingers slide across to the back of her neck. She was so afraid that he would be able to feel the erratic pulsing of blood in her throat, but was comforted by the trembling of his fingers as they worked slowly on the clasp. His face was close to hers, too close to be perfectly comfortable, as it was turned to better see her neck in the semi-darkness of the corridor. She could feel his breath just below the column of her throat.
Finally, he managed to close the clasp. Draco’s fingers skimmed the length of the chain as it settled more comfortably against her skin. She felt his grip on the emerald as he dropped it on top of her shirt.
But, his face was still entirely too close and she could feel his breath against her skin. She didn’t want him to move away and yet she very much wanted to be alone within her own space. But she couldn’t get her feet to obey her brain. And she couldn’t get her voice to work in order to tell him to back away.
She opened her mouth to say something, anything to make the uncomfortable and unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach disappear, but when she felt his lips on the side of her throat, Hermione realized that any attempt at communication was just not going to happen.
His mouth was soft on the skin of her throat and through the haze of her brain, she felt his hands reaching around her waist and pulling her body closer to his. She didn’t think it possible, but the pounding of blood in her ears grew even louder, so loud in fact, that it disappeared, and all she was aware of was the sound of his breathing and the scent of his black robes.
Her own fingers clenched onto his forearms as she sought to steady herself and she exhaled slowly, afraid of losing the feeling of being so close to him.
His voice was so quiet and so full of emotion that she thought she would disappear into it. “Is this alright?”
She couldn’t see him. Her eyes were shut tightly and she could feel his lips moving against her neck as he spoke. “Hermione… Is this alright?”
She could feel him pulling back, presumably to look at her, or maybe he’d simply realized what a horrible mistake he’d just made. All she was really aware of was that he wasn’t as close as she wanted and was steadily moving further away.
Her hands clenched tightly around his arms when they tried to pull away and her eyes flew open as she whispered, “Don’t stop.”
He smirked and she realized that she wasn’t annoyed with him for his arrogance. His mouth returned to her throat and moved so slowly and deliciously against her skin, his tongue soon joining his lips. Together they tormented her throat, biting and teasing so gently, so much more gently than she ever would have expected from him. She felt her knees weaken and she tightened her hold on his arms before hesitantly placing her hands around his shoulders. His fingers followed his mouth as it slid over the skin of her neck and up to her jaw.
Mentally she was trying to prepare herself for what she knew would ultimately be happening in just a matter of moments, but emotionally she was completely overwhelmed and nervous. The growing pit in her stomach was burning and aching, the depth of the feelings churning in her body were all at once terrifying and yet completely irresistible. Her hands slipped down from his shoulders to rest on his chest. It was oddly comforting to feel the frantic beating of his heart through his robes. She smiled at the thought of him being as equally unsure of this as she was.
“What are you smiling about, Granger?” he asked teasingly, his voice light and nonchalant, a definite contrast to the nervous heart beating beneath her fingers.
She still didn’t trust her voice to work properly and shook her head in response. She could feel herself still smiling and her cheeks flooded with color at the reality of what was happening between them. Draco must have found this amusing and she felt his arms tighten around her waist. She felt him watching her and she slowly brought her eyes up to look at his face instead of the front of his robes.
She’d never really seen him smile the way he was at that moment. It was as if none of the problems that faced them existed, as if all that really mattered was what was happening between them now. And really that was all that mattered to her just then. For the few moments that the two of them stood together, alone in the corridor, she could forgot about Voldemort, and the war, and the confusion of the prophecies. It seemed that everything else had faded away and all that remained was the palpable emotion smoldering between them.
Draco was still smiling as he leaned forward and brought his head down to meet hers. She felt the strength leave her body and it felt as if every nerve ending had been lit on fire. The aching feeling in her stomach expanded as his mouth moved ever closer to her own. When she felt the first brush of his lips, so soft and moist against the skin of her cheek, and felt his trembling hand at her waist as it made its way to her neck, she gave into the emotions that had been stirring for months. She’d tried to ignore the feelings that had been steadily growing since their reluctant truce at the beginning of the term. But the feelings she had for Draco were definitely hard to ignore when his mouth was so dangerously close to her own, as it was now.
They were at a precipice. It had gotten to that point in their rather unsteady friendship where they could either ignore their mutual attraction or give into it and possibly risk all that they’d worked so hard to build. Losing her friendship with Draco wasn’t something she wanted, but she knew that she’d never forgive herself for not at least trying to make something work with him. The possibility of not being with him was a greater threat, and one she wasn’t willing to compromise on. She wanted to be with him. She needed to be with him, and she desperately hoped that he wanted the same thing.
In the end, it wasn’t just her wellbeing she was risking. It was Harry’s and Ron’s and Ginny’s. And not just them, but everyone. The entire wizarding world now depended upon Harry and Draco’s ability to work together to figure out the mystery of their prophecies. It would make that battle even harder if there was animosity between them on her account. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be the reason that they couldn’t forge an alliance. She didn’t want to be the driving force in their hostility.
Draco must have sensed her sudden hesitation because she felt his grip tighten on her shoulder. The hand at the back of her neck was warm and she felt the loss when it pulled away.
“Out with it, Granger. What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked quietly. His face was a puzzle of thoughts; she tried to read it, to gain some sort of insight, but she hadn’t learned all his expressions and couldn’t properly categorize them. The distance between them suddenly seemed much greater than it really was. He sounded so hesitant and disappointed when he spoke again. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No. I was just thinking about how this - us - changes things. I mean, unless I’m reading this all wrong,” she rushed out uncertainly. Her fingers flexed unconsciously on the front of his robes and her voice was decidedly weaker sounding than she had intended.
He sighed heavily and rubbed her shoulder gently. “Of course this changes things. That’s the whole point,” he said.
Hermione took a deep breath but he was speaking quickly now, and she knew that he didn’t want to be interrupted…
“We don’t know what might happen tomorrow or even twenty minutes from now.”
Hermione searched his blazing gray eyes, wondering how he seemed to be able to pull the very words from her thoughts.
He looked right into her soul as he spoke, his words calming her nerves. “As far as we know now, this moment, is the only time we have. I don’t know what the future holds for us, any of us, but I can tell you for certain that it won’t be easy. And if right now is the only time that I have with you, then I’m going to take it. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all this it’s that you can’t take anything for granted. We could die tomorrow or fifty years from now, either way I want to know that I took advantage of every second that I had with you, Hermione. I’m tired of wasting time.”
And he kissed her.
She felt all of his urgency and uncertainty. His passion and hesitation. Anger and Determination. Desire. She felt all these things and poured her own feelings into that kiss. Fear. Hope. Trust. Salvation. And she prayed that he felt them, too.
His hand on her neck was deliciously warm and his heart under her fingertips was beating proudly. Draco’s lips were greedy as they stole the breath from her body, and giving as they emptied his emotions into her heart.
The intensity of the kiss increased as she felt his hand wrap more tightly around her waist as his other teased the tiny curls at the back of her neck. Her fingers slid through his hair as he pressed himself closer to her body. He nibbled tauntingly at her lower lip before his tongue sought entrance to her mouth.
He coaxed her lips apart and her head swam with a dizzying rush of feeling as she felt the first caress of his tongue. It was warm and moist as it meshed with hers, sending ripples of longing to pool in her stomach. She sank against him and he responded by groaning deep within his throat. His hand clenched onto her hair and shifted her head back, leaving her mouth open for his assault. She pulled him down to her and moaned softly as he redoubled his efforts with his tongue. She felt all the oxygen leave her body and a light-headed feeling took over, drowning her temporarily in his warmth.
When they pulled apart it was only out of sheer necessity and the biological need for oxygen. Truthfully, Hermione felt she’d be willing to suffocate if it meant kissing Draco even a moment longer. It was amazing. A kiss shouldn’t feel that wonderful. It left her wanting more but still too afraid to ask for it. Too afraid of the depth of her own need.
Her heart was still racing, though no longer out of nervousness, but of desire and anticipation. She kept her eyes closed, trying, even for just a few more moments, to recapture the feeling, the warmth, of his mouth. She’d never have thought that Draco would be that talented with his tongue, though it shouldn’t have come as a surprise seeing as how gifted he was with it verbally. But, he’d found uses for his tongue that she hadn’t even dreamt of. And they’d only been kissing… Imagine if they’d actually progressed farther than that…
Bad, Hermione, she chided herself mentally. Must not think such things about Draco’s tongue, no matter how talented he is with it…
“You can open your eyes now,” he whispered teasingly. “You might think about keeping them open, I’m quite good looking, you know. Or so they tell me.”
She rolled her eyes and playfully pushed his shoulder. “You are good looking - for a ferret. Why else do you think I kept my eyes closed?” she retorted mischievously, hoping that she hadn’t crossed a line with him.
For a moment she was afraid that he’d taken her seriously. His shoulders stiffened beneath her fingers and she saw his jaw clench tightly.
But then he laughed, a deep, rich laugh, and she knew that it was alright. He pulled her into a tight embrace, his arms wrapped completely around her back, his head resting against the crown of her head. His scent enveloped her and she pressed her cheek into his chest to absorb the smell. She felt so happy, so complete, standing there with him. Laughing with him. Being with him.
His quiet voice once again broke her reverie. “Granger, I just never know what to expect to come out of your mouth. I thought I had you all figured out, but I don’t. You are a complete mystery to me.”
She smiled into his robes even though she knew he couldn’t see it. “I do my best to keep you on your toes,” she taunted. “Can’t have you learning all my secrets so soon.”
His voice took on that dangerously husky quality when he replied, making her knees weaken. “Oh, but how I would love coercing them out of you. That would be a pleasant way to spend the weekend, though I very much doubt that would be long enough. We’d most likely have to give up school, and while I am most willing to make that sacrifice I somehow don’t think that you’d be able to tear yourself away,” he said, his breath stirring her hair, leaving her scalp tingling. “There are three people in our relationship, Granger. You, me, and Madame Pince. As much as I like a good threesome, somehow Pince isn’t really someone I had in mind.”
She was blushing furiously by the end of Draco’s little speech, unused as she was to this kind of dialogue. She knew that he’d simply been feeding off of her reaction since he’d been doing similar things for years when they fought, edging her on, judging her reactions, instigating trouble. But this time, however, her reaction was of a completely different and altogether foreign emotion. Desire. As afraid as she was of it, she had to admit, even if just to herself, that she desired Draco Malfoy.
It was impossible to deny it and even more impossible to resist. He made a fetching picture standing arrogantly in the corridor, his blonde hair nearly white in the silvery glow of the moon. He was casually and elegantly disheveled and she flushed at the realization that she had caused his hair to look as it did because her hands had run through it, her fingers had pulled on the silken strands. She thought his hair had never looked better.
What was even more attractive was the way that his collar stood up at an odd angle and how his tie now hung crookedly from his neck. His lips were pink and slightly puffy from kissing and she realized that she probably looked the same, maybe worse.
Hermione found a new and greater appreciation for Draco’s smirk. It suited him when he looked like this, smug, his posture filled with casual arrogance. She wondered briefly what he saw when he looked back at her, but realized that it couldn’t be that bad if the way he was staring down at her , as if she were an extravagant dessert, was any indication. But propriety called for her to be slightly mollified at her precariously open collar and nearly discarded robe. Hastily she tried buttoning her blouse back up but Draco’s fingers stopped her.
“Don’t. I like you this way. I know the only way you’d ever look like this is after a good snog with a bloke like me,” he said happily before his smile faded slightly. His eyes narrowed and his voice took on a more serious tone. “No, wait… Me. Just me.”
She knew that he was waiting for her to say, or do something, to assuage the semi-jealous curiosity he had about the status of their relationship. In all honesty, she felt the same confusion and envy regarding his former girlfriends. As far as she knew, he had a much greater experience with the opposite sex. His simple declaration was rather charming and she smiled at him in response, hoping to assure him that she wanted to be with him, too. “Just you,” she responded shyly.
He smiled again, that beautiful smile that she’d seen for the first time that night. His hand slipped down her arm slowly, coming to rest just above her wrist. Draco pulled her hand up between them and brought her palm to his lips, kissing it softly.
Suddenly his eyes narrowed and his eyebrow lifted naughtily. “You didn’t eat anything for dinner, did you?”
Confused, she replied, “No, I was in the Library and then came to find you.”
He pulled away and reached for her hand. “We’ve still got some time before Filch can get us for being out too late, and everyone else is still in the Great Hall. How about a quick run to the Kitchens?”
“I’m quite hungry, now that you mention it,” she said, though if the butterflies in her stomach were any indication, she doubted she could eat much.
He smiled again and tightened his grip on her hand. Hermione realized that she would follow him anywhere if he just smiled at her like that. Draco seemed unaware of the happy expression and that endeared him to Hermione even more.
They walked a few feet before Draco turned to her and said, “This will be fun, I haven’t tormented the House-Elves in ages.”