A Lesson In Love

A Lesson In Love

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One : Lust, Desired

"What are you playing at?" he hissed at her the next day in the hallway, looking around to see if anybody was watching them; fortunately, nobody was. She turned, running a hand through her tangled hair, and proceeded to separate strands from it as she looked at him, observing him with a keen eye.

"What ever do you mean, Malfoy?" she asked innocently, blinking. She was leaning over a bit purposely, and he could well look down her blouse if he wanted to. But Draco knew he'd get caught, so he looked away.

"Sending me that book," he explained. "Why did you do that? You act as if we're...friends or something."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "I thought it was a nice, playful gesture. What's the matter with you? Haven't your friends ever given you a present?"

"No," he answered in a firm tone. Something that could've been pity went through her eyes, but she shook herself and turned red.

"Oh. Well, it worked, didn't it? You're now not calling me that foul word anymore," she notified him with minor glee.

He scowled at her. "If you wanted me to stop calling you that, why didn't you just say?"

Hermione's eyebrows raised in a peculiar motion. "Would you have stopped?"

Draco looked distinctly uncomfortable at this. "No, I guess not," he confirmed. "Doesn't matter, anyways. We can't be friends." He shoved the book in her hands, and started to push past her, but she grabbed his arm.

"Wait! Fine, we don't have to be friends. Why can't we just be a little bit more than enemies?" she pleaded. He parted his lips to talk, but his eyes wandered over to her own lips, which were soft-looking and inviting. He looked around him, and tugged her out of the hallway while she questioned him. Finally entering a corridor that was deserted, he felt his blood rise and tickle as what he was about to do. But he couldn't help it - he just needed one time to get it out of his system, he hated the way this Mudblood was annoying him to hell. For a moment, Hermione seemed to pause when he leaned over.

"No, I am saying we could be a little bit more than friends," he whispered. To his annoyance, she backed away into the wall, her eyes fearful.

"What?" he asked. "What is it?"

She looked down at her feet. "I've...I've never..."

"You've never kissed anyone before?" he scoffed, trying hard not to laugh. She glared up at him, but it slowly and carefully softened.

"No. The last boyfriend I had was Viktor."

"Viktor?"

"Krum."

Draco started to gape. "Are you serious? Tell me, how good is he in the sack?"

"You idiot! If I didn't kiss Viktor, how would I sleep with him?" she asked, her face radiating disgust and curiousity.

"There are ways," he answered in a vague, brief voice.

She wrinkled her nose at him. It was a very cute nose, Draco noted. When it wrinkled, the motion gave him an odd pang in his chest.

"So..." she said prompted quietly, not meeting his eyes.

"So what?" he asked.

"Draco!"

He chuckled a bit before realizing what she had just said. "What did you just say?" he said in a furious voice.

Hermione clutched herself tightly, wincing a bit. "I called you by your name."

He grabbed her painfully by the wrist, sinking his fingernails deeply into her skin.

"Don't. Ever. Call me that. You're not worthy Mudblood," he said violently in her ear. "Do you hear me?" he threatened.

"Yes," she whispered back, squirming in his grip. "Please let me go."

Please let me go, please let me go, where had he heard those words before? Then he remembered. He was thirteen, back at home for the summer, and his father had started hurting his mother. 'Please let me go' she had moaned pleadingly. 'Please'. The thought sickened him greatly, and he pulled quickly out of the tight grasp.

"Sorry."

"You're what?" Hermione was in awe of the boy before her.

"I said, I am sorry. Don't make me say it again, Granger."

She straightened her robes, flattening the creases, and walked toward him. For an instant, he thought she was going to kiss him, but before he knew what was happening, she tugged at the hem of his pants, and dropped it down him.

"See you in class," she said, a smirk pushing on her face.

He was enraged with fury and embarrassment as he took the object out of his pants. He groaned. The Granger had won again. 'Hogwarts, A History', his gleaming copy was in his hands.

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"Mr. Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed. "What're you doing?"

Draco looked up from the interesting words of Hogwarts, A History that probed him further. He put the book away. "Err...reading?" he said, hoping this was a suitable excuse.

"Is the book about Transfiguration?" she barked.

"Well..."

"Is it?"

"No."

"One point from Slytherin for disturbing my class. Do not bring reading material here ever again unless it is about Transfiguration, which you may share with us in the end of class. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Professor," he said, his voice dripping with anxiety and sarcasm.

"Good."

His face burned as she turned around; all the Slytherins were looking at him with puzzled expressions. He had no answer for them, so he merely opened his copy of 'Transfiguration Today and began to scribble down notes with his quill, dreading the next classes.

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"I thought...maybe he would really stop eating. Then Aunt Petunia woke us all up when she screamed; Dudley was in the bathroom, eating ice cream in the bathtub," Harry finished his story. Ron let out the suppressed laughter he had been containing, and Hermione laughed too. It felt good to be back with her friends again; she never wanted to think about Malfoy again. Why had she done that? It might've given the idea that she liked him or something. Liked someone that had tormented her for over several years? That's impossible, she insisted. Impossible.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice snapped her out of thought. "What're you looking at?"

Hermione shook herself, realizing she had been looking past Harry and into the wall, feeling dazed. "Oh, must've drifted off." Content with this answer, the boys started to converse about the importance of Quidditch while Hermione gazed over at the Slytherin table. To her surprise, gray eyes locked with hers. Draco had Hogwarts, A History in his hands, but he was completely leaving his food alone, his eyes peering over at her from over the cover.

She looked away, slightly unnerved that he was watching her. But more disgusted at the tingling feeling that she received when he had. She buttoned down the top buttons of her blouse, which was underneath her robes. It had been foolish to think cleavage would impress Malfoy, or that she would actually use it to get a boy's attention. What was wrong with her? Of course, she had been in classes to answer almost every single question and was careful to write almost every single note, but why couldn't she concentrate on that? Why was her chest bubbling with an emotion she could not recall, or explain? Was it nervousness? It was a possibility. Was it lust? Perhaps, even more likely.

But could it have been the single thing she did not want to have; especially with Malfoy?

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"I saw you watching me," he told her. She looked at him, exasperated. He had followed her upstairs when she had told Harry and Ron that she was not feeling well and had to take a rest, and there he was, beside her.

"So?" she challenged. "I have eyes."

"Why were you watching me?"

"Why were you watching me?"

"Why do you answer a question with a question?"

"Why do you answer a question with a question?"

"Why are you annoying the hell out of me?"

"Why are you annoying the hell out of me?"

"Why don't you shut up."

"Why don't you shut up..." before the words trailed off of her tongue however, she fixated her eyes on him, flushing at the look he was giving her. It was half anger, but half something else. Something tender?

He put his hands on her shoulders and she shivered. Leaning over, his forehead pressed against hers in a tempting way. She could feel her whole body rising back and forth, her head growing dizzy with passion, and somehow her hands and gotten on his waist. Her first kiss, this would be, a kiss from someone that was not a friend, and this was not going to be on the cheek. He seemed to hesitate a bit, but finally, he pressed her lips to hers. It was a sweet, painful kiss. His lips were soft but he kissed her with hunger, need and fury. She kissed back, her arms letting loose around his waist. It was bittersweet the way she clung to him; as if she was his only support. It was only when his arm found itself wrapped around her backside, the other hand going up her blouse that she broke away from it, breathless.

"What?" Draco snapped, annoyed. Hermione touched her swollen lips. It had been such a good kiss, and she had wanted to last all night...but she just couldn't.

"I can't...I can't..."

"Why not?"

"Because..." her face flushed, and she was quickly flustered. "I was taught to...taught to have it with someone I love."

"There's no..." he started to say, but closed his mouth abruptly. "Alright, then." With a stiff posture, she looked after him as he turned around and walked away, his footsteps becoming distant every second, her heartbeat decreased, and she felt a pang in her chest she couldn't describe, her hands shaking with grief.

You did the right thing, a wise part of her brain told her. If you let it go any further, you might've had regrets in the morning. You want it to be the right time. You want it to be with the one you love. And there's no way you love him. You can't love him. You won't love him. You don't love him.

And then, a sly, slick voice, the voice that made her slap Malfoy back in third year, the same voice that made Hermione get back Harry's invisibility cloak, the voice that made her look beautiful in the Yule Ball, the same voice that had made her stand out, was saying what she thought very clearly: Liar.

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