Lust to Love

It was spring, the flowers were blooming, the pounding rain had stopped, and the sun was shining upon Hogwarts. It was a warm Saturday, and most students were taking the opportunity to go take a swim in the lake or just enjoy the sunshine outside. The seventh years however were busy studying for their NEWTs either in their respective common rooms or the library.

The library was full of seventh years at every other table trying to finish their homework and working with their study group. In the common rooms, the seventh were acting the same way as the students in the library, only they took time off studying about every five minutes. One look at a student's face, you could tell it they were seventh or fifth years, worrying about the OWLs and NEWTs or if they were the rest of the student body, enjoying their free time.

Two particular seventh years however, were not studying, and they were the last ones anyone expected not to be studying. They were both dwelling on thoughts of each other. Lusting over each other. Crying over each other. Regretting their decision.

Somewhere in the castle, seated on a couch in the most interestingly decorated room, was a girl who could, at the moment care less about studying. The girl's eyes were red and puffy from the crying, yet the tears didn't stop. Her hair looked more bushy than ever due to lack of care. Her clothes were sagging and she seemed oblivious to her condition.

She shouldn't have done that. She shouldn't have done it. But it had felt like the right thing to do after seeing the disappointment on his face about the result of the Quidditch match. How odd it was, he'd even responded to her kiss. He'd even started groping for her. How odd it had been, when suddenly he'd just stopped, and she'd just stopped.

It had been difficult to remember her own name after the experience, but she'd remembered who he was and who she was just after she heard him mutter, "Mudblood." That had done it. She had come crying up to this secret room that the Headmaster had assigned for the Head Girl and Head Boy as a study room and she'd been crying ever since.

She looked up into the intricately designed ceiling and thought about her actions. Why had she done it? Why had she kissed him? She had no reason to-he had insulted since their first year at Hogwarts, but somehow she'd kissed him. Maybe it had been pity, since she now knew due to their regular meetings about his lack of family. Maybe it had been revenge towards her ex-boyfriend to show him she could do something daring. Or maybe, just maybe, it was desire. Lust?

She'd done enough thinking. It was just an incident. She had to put it behind her. She was Head Girl. She had to pass her NEWTs. She had to study. There was no point in crying. She should just think of it as a fling.

She stood up and had taken one step towards the door, when it creaked open and the objection of her obsession for the past hour or so stepped through. She closed her eyes, letting out a curse, and groaned in frustration.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Why had she done that? It rang through his mind as he went to the locker rooms to change. He discovered no answer and it still bothered him. Besides that, he had other questions too. Questions like - Why had he responded to her? Why had he enjoyed it? Was it at all possible that he had feelings for her? That one he could answer instantly. No. He did not have feelings for the mudblood.

She was a mudblood, for heaven's sake. She had dirty blood in her. Hadn't he leaned anything from his father? But there it was again. The taunt about his father. His father was gone. Dead. He was devastated. It had been his father, after all, but for some reason, his mother hadn't mind her husband's death at all, and as time went on, he'd discovered his father had deserved it.

However, there was no way of getting rid of the evil that his father had put into him. And one of them was the crack about mudbloods. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't manage to get rid of his habit. It was just there. It came naturally to him, to call people mudbloods or mudblood-lovers if they were one. He had yet to learn that there was no difference.

He sat in his dormitory and evaluated his situation. Every two minutes, his thoughts were disrupted by her face and her charming smile. He had to hand it to her, she had a wonderful smile. For one second, it made him forget what she was. Every five minutes, he kept reminding himself to back to studying for the NEWTs, but it did no avail.

What he had to remember was that she had kissed him. She had taken the first step. She had come up to him. He hadn't gone running after her, not that he ever would. He had to keep in mind that she had chosen to kiss him. Why though? Had she felt pity for him for loosing the game? Was it perhaps because of his family? He had confided in her about his family, event though it had been rather harshly said.

He didn't want her feeling sorry for her. He was proud of who he was. He didn't need a mudblood's pity, or anyone's pity for that matter. He was intelligent, and he'd been made Head Boy for nothing. Who knew the old loony actually had some brain cells left?

He stood up and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His light colored hair was disheveled, and he only had to make two guesses why. His eyes were stormy, but they looked full. They looked full of something....Oh Lord! Was it lust? But how could he possibly interpret his inner emotions through his eyes?

The boy shook himself. He was being ridiculous. She had just had a desire to kiss him, who wouldn't? She might even have done it for revenge to show Finnigan that she could do something. The boy thought about the NEWTs and then decided to go study. He had no desire to go running after the girl.

But it was ironic, that when he entered the Heads Study room, he found her standing there in front him, barely five feet away. He had half a mind to turn around, but his curiosity held him back. She was going to answer each and every one of his questions before he let her out of this room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There was pure silence for eternity. He looked at her, then at the floor, the violet carpet with multi-colored designs looked very appealing. He looked up at the ceiling with its extravagant designs. He looked around the room, his eyes traveling slowly over each object, from the bookshelf to the desk at the corner.

She did the same. She looked at the ceiling, stared at the looked, longed to go outside as she saw the other students in the bright sunlight through the window. She looked at the blazing fire and pondered the situation she was in. She did everything but look at him. She sighed and accidentally looked up, and their eyes met.

He just stared at her and she stared right back. He took one step back, and she took one step back. He took two steps forward, and she took two steps forward. She was mimicking him. He just started walking towards her and she was caught off guard so she backed away.

She hit the wall and stopped as she realized she was in a corner and he was barely two feet away from her. She was desperate to get out. She wanted to get out there now. What was he going to do?

He looked at her and thought about his advantage. He had total advantage over her. She was stuck in a corner. She had no way of escaping. She would answer every question he asked, and then she could go...

"Why did you do that - " But as he looked at her, so vulnerable, he was struck with pure desire. He abandoned his speech, took two steps, and pulled her into her kiss.

She sighed. She had wanted him to do that since he had uttered his first word. His voice had come out so hoarse, she had felt drawn to him. She wound her arms around his neck and fumbled with his hair.

Suddenly, they both pulled apart.

"We cannot do this. This is wrong. You're a mudblood. I'm a pureblood. You're in Gryffindor. I'm in Slytherin," he said, gasping for air.

She smiled. "You're right. We can't do this. This is wrong," and pulled him in for another kiss.

It was odd how their speech didn't matter much. What they spoke was from their brain. It was their sane side speaking. Their actions, however, were straight from the heart and the insanity could be detected easily. Their actions, however, told much more about Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy , than what they spoke.

And from that day on, neither one of them passed by an opportunity for a kiss. Neither one of them said anything. It was a silent relationship. It was a relationship full of lust. And only lust. No promises, no compromises. It was all for desires. And even though none of them said anything during their time together, they both knew how the other felt about them- unconditional love.

~*Finis*~