Inevitable Lovers

Chapter 12:

Several weeks of hard training were paying off, and Slytherin were finally playing their first Quidditch match of the year. Sitting almost motionless on his broom, Draco glanced around the Quidditch pitch in anticipation of the start whistle from Madam Hooch. He could see Kevin Whitby, the younger Seeker for Hufflepuff, hovering at the same height, but on the opposite side of the pitch from him. Various other green and yellow-cloaked players were scattered around; waiting. As always, just before a match, Draco felt a familiar adrenaline rush, before total and utter determination set in.

The days of early December were clear and cold, and today was no exception. The sky had been misted over earlier, but now it was a clear opaque white, and the slight breeze chilled Draco under his Quidditch uniform. However, he had played in far worse conditions, and was thankful that visibility was at least clear. Slytherin seemed to have a fair chance of triumphing at the second Quidditch match of the year so far. Winning today would mean that they were facing Gryffindor next in the tournament, and Draco eagerly awaited the moment when he would snatch victory from under Harry Potter's nose. For a moment, a glorious vision of him being hoisted onto the shoulders of his fellow team players, after magnificently catching the Golden Snitch played before his eyes. Then the whistle blew shrilly, and he was startled into action.

At first, Draco was awfully conscious of the noisy spectators seated all around, and of the commentator (this year Seamus Finnigan) announcing the movements of the game with gusto. But then, Whitby was swerving past him out of nowhere. Draco's head turned. Then he saw it. Darting and fluttering across the pitch, the shiny Golden Snitch repeatedly caught his sharp eye. Like a rocket, Draco accelerated hard, Whitby suddenly at his heels. His brand new, smooth and magnificent Nimbus 2003 made dodging other players and the heavy Bludger like a dream. Draco focussed keenly on the Snitch, the biting breeze rushing past him. As if in a trance, he urged his broom forward, hardly even noticing Kevin right behind him, until the younger boy was practically rubbing shoulders with him.

'Oh go and take a running jump,' he muttered sourly to the other Seeker, although he felt relieved that he was no real threat - unlike tosser Potty.

Draco could see the Snitch plainly in front of him, as it led him in a frantic dance across the pitch. Glancing ahead, he dropped a few feet hastily; to avoid colliding with Goyle, who made a hefty Beater. Damn. The Snitch had flitted in an entirely different direction, meaning Kevin Whitby now had the advantage.

Then: 'Blimey O'Reilly, first goal to Hufflepuff!' Finnigan crowed enthusiastically, disrupting Draco's concentration. 'And Baddock whacks the Bludger...'

Draco groaned through the commentary, hoping Slytherin would score soon. He and Kevin Whitby were both vaguely circling the pitch once again now, after losing sight of the tiny fluttering light, hoping for the golden gleam to catch their eye once more...

***

Pansy huddled her cloak around her tightly in the cold and began to clap along with everyone, as the Slytherin team began to file onto the Quidditch pitch. Draco looked as cool and refined as always; as the wind blew his hair back, she observed his finely sculpted cheekbones and seemingly serene demeanour, visible even from this distance. Her melancholic feelings heightened at the sight, and she found her gaze drifting towards Blaise Zabini, standing near her. And in that moment, Pansy was again afraid. Since the "incident", she had not spoken to Draco, following her mother's advice to "let him simmer down". So, as difficult as it had seemed, she did not "turn on the tap" or plead with him in the way that he would have hated. By owl, her mother had told her that, in short, she had been too rash in trying to give Blaise her comeuppance, although things could certainly have been worse. For instance, Blaise had no idea what had happened, and for the moment the dirty little secret was shared only between Pansy, Draco and Theodore. Therefore, she had been advised, do not take up with "the other boy" and worsen the situation, simply maintain a "coy manner" and let "mummy" write to Draco's father, to encourage the love match.

Despite her gloom, Pansy couldn't help but take comfort in her bossy, governing mother; after speaking with her she always felt as if the problem was out of her hands, and the grown-ups would resolve the situation, like always. If she would only be patient, her mother had assured her in the letter, one day she truly would be the rightful lady of Malfoy Manor. Pansy snapped back to reality and looked up; the match continued animatedly.

Her thoughts were interrupted by that rather annoying Irish Gryffindor boy, who was commentating spiritedly now. As the players soared about the pitch, the score was becoming close; Hufflepuff leading by only sixty points to fifty. Draco was practically a blur, as he swerved and dived after the Snitch. Pansy's mind wandered again.

Aside from both coming from wealthy Wizarding families, she and Draco also had in common that they were both only children, and their parents were all too happy to take control over the "important" aspects of their lives. So all Pansy had to do, her mother promised her, was to embrace sweetness and light until the inevitable Christmas party at the Malfoy Manor. Coincidentally, this would also be the time where both families would come together and Draco and Pansy had the opportunity to come home for an interval, spending some time together, away from Hogwarts. Put like that, everything sounded completely sensible.

Pansy smiled to herself, focussing on the match again - and would you believe it? Draco had just caught the Golden Snitch! She began to whoop and cheer ostentatiously - why, there was always a time and a place to be ladylike, after all.

***

Hermione had walked up to the Quidditch pitch with Ron and Harry for the latest game, their breath showing in clouds around them due to the cold. Attending this match meant missing the first part of double Transfiguration that Monday afternoon, something that relieved Harry, and especially Ron; who hadn't done the homework. He believed he could use the match to "look at" Hermione's, thus avoiding punishment from Professor McGonagall.

'Hermione, if you let me borrow your homework this one time, I promise - look at me - I swear, I'll never ask you again. McGonagall'll roast me if I don't turn something in this time, please.' Ron tried to look at Hermione beseechingly as he implored her.

She shot him a severe look. 'Ron, you know I'm against copying. I just won't let you, same as I wouldn't let anyone else. It's not fair, and you could have asked me about it last week -'

'Ah, Hermione, I forgot about it last week, I had too much other stuff to do,' protested Ron. 'I'm in trouble in that lesson, I hardly even understand it - Hermione I got a "D" in the last essay, that's gotta say something!'

Hermione sighed. 'You got a "D" last time because you scribbled out the essay at about two o'clock in the morning before it was due in.'

'That's not entirely true, you know. Anyway, that was last time. So can I, please?

'No.' She folded her arms firmly.

'Oh give it a rest you two!' said Harry irritably, as Ron opened his mouth again. He shut it, and Hermione glared.

Ginny appeared. 'What's the matter with you lot? You look a bit pissed off,' she said lightly.

'Ginny, don't swear. Ron's sulking because I won't let him copy my homework.'

'I am not sulking!'

They reached the stands to see Hagrid approaching, a pair of Omnioculars slung around his neck. Since it was only Ron who took Care of Magical Creatures for a lesson anymore, they did not have so much time to chat to Hagrid, except when they visited him for tea and cakes in their spare time, which was only occasionally. Hagrid seemed to expect this, however, and was constantly reminding them all that, "Seventh year's the hardest of 'em all, and maybe not just 'cos o' the tests." He was, of course, referring to the Voldemort's imminent threat on Harry, something that did nothing to disperse the fears he couldn't help but have.

As the whistle went to begin the match, the Gryffindors turned their attention to the Quidditch pitch. Hermione was pretty much impartial to the result, but for the others, this match would decide whom Gryffindor faced next in the tournament. Hermione couldn't help but watch Draco as he elegantly skimmed the pitch on his broom, and she almost missed a goal twice. She wasn't so obvious for Harry and Ron to notice, but it certainly made things more interesting. Only at one point was she startled into consciousness by the smaller of the impish Creevey brothers waving a lonesome and unexplained "Support Gryffindor!" flag very enthusiastically in front of her face, and batted him away irritably. Moreover, it was a rather long match, and when Draco finally caught the Snitch, Hermione nearly cheered before realising and halting abruptly...that would have been too embarrassing. Instead Harry, Ron and Ginny groaned as Slytherin won the game, obviously not looking forward to playing them next.

After the final score was announced and the players began to descend to the ground, the spectators shuffled along and out of the stands and back to the final lessons of the day. It was then that Hermione decided. After Transfiguration would be the perfect time to go and speak to Professor Nymphadora Tonks, along with the Harry and Ron. She hurried to catch up with them, as everyone filed out and onto the grounds. Draco and his fellow team members were walking the same way to the showers, a few metres away.

'Hey Potter, good game, eh?' said Draco tauntingly as he passed. He was surrounded by players who were all looking at him in a kind of reverential way. Harry sniggered, about to reply sarcastically, when Ron cut in bluntly.

'Oh, shut up, Malfoy,' he said loudly.

'Make me,' said Draco menacingly, his eyes suddenly gleaming. But before Ron could reply, he was swept away with his teammates.

'We'd better bloody beat Slytherin next,' Ginny said. 'Smug little gits.'

***

After a remarkably short lesson of Transfiguration, in which a scowling Ron did receive three nights' worth of deserved detention, Hermione requested he and Harry accompany her to Professor Tuppy's classroom. She knew Draco would be crowing about Slytherin's victory, and looked forward to seeing him, but some things were equally as important.

Marching purposefully past other students in the castle, yet with no real idea of what they were going to say, the trio arrived at the Defence classroom. Harry hesitantly pushed the already ajar door open. This time, they were in luck. Bent over her desk correcting some pieces of parchment was the Professor, iron-grey hair tucked neatly back into a bun. She looked up at the sound of the door.

'Professor,' said Hermione more confidently than she felt. 'We'd, er, like a word with you.'

'Certainly, what is it?' she asked amiably.

'Well, a while ago, something happened that...made me curious,' said Hermione, beginning to feel uncomfortable. 'It's just Harry, and Ron and I, we felt that we...recognised you.'

'And what do you mean by that?' said Tuppy calmly.

'What we mean is,' began Harry, 'That you reminded us of...' There was no way of getting around it, 'Nymphadora Tonks.' Now all three felt uneasy.

Professor Tuppy looked startled. She cleared her throat. 'Merlin, aren't you three quick on the uptake. I'm sitting here with four NEWTs and accomplished Auror training, and you see right through my Concealment and Disguise!' Now she smiled, not thinly, as she may usually have done, but knowingly, and it seemed to take years off her face. They had definitely hit the spot.

'So what are you doing here?' said Ron tactlessly. 'I mean, we wrote to Lupin and sort of gathered that you went off to Grimmauld Place to-'

'Shh!' said Tonks hurriedly. She cast her eyes to the door. 'Listen, I'm not in a position to discuss this right now!' It was a bit disconcerting, speaking to Tonks but looking at someone else entirely, but not altogether unexpected. 'Okay, I won't deny you the truth, but this must not get about,' she continued. 'The whole point of the disguise is that no one knows who I am, see? Now, we'll probably get a chance to talk later, but I'm your Professor now, not your friend. Do you understand?'

'Yes, yes of course,' said Hermione. 'Well be going now. Come on you two.' And with that, she steered her friends back out of the door. Returning, they didn't speak, except to decide it would probably be best to go straight into the Great hall for dinner. Hermione now noticed the pattering of rainfall outside.

'Nice detective work, Hermione,' said Harry, just as they reached the doors.

'I'm sure that wasn't the end of this,' she said in reply, and they walked in to the noise and chatter of the people already seated there.

***

Afterwards, Hermione returned to her tower and had just removed her cloak, when suddenly the portrait door banged and Draco strode in, grinning from ear-to-ear, a Butterbeer in his hand. Hermione tutted at the noise.

'Winning feels so good,' he said in a self-satisfied way. 'Just been "celebrating" down in the dungeons, not that you'd know it to look at half of them.' He remembered Pansy's retiring, coy attitude with distaste. She was almost acting shyly, which was certainly acting for her. 'Pansy's such a bitch,' her said in an off-hand way, placing his Butterbeer down next to his wand on a table.

'Why, what's she done now?' Hermione asked.

'Oh, nothing, forget it,' said Draco shortly. He smirked again. 'Bet that match was a right kick in the bollocks for the little Gryffindors.'

'Oh, I'm fairly sure Harry and the others can handle you lot,' Hermione teased.

'Hmph,' was all he said.

'So Draco, what are you up to tonight?' said Hermione casually.

'Er, homework, the usual,' he said indifferently, running a hand through his hair.

'Oh. Draco, I took the potion.' Hermione hadn't meant to say it that abruptly.

'You took - the potion?' said Draco in a mock-disbelieving voice.

She nodded, wishing she didn't blush so easily, and noticed his eyes widen with sudden longing. A smile spread over his face, and he had to refrain from looking her up and down, as if to see any changes.

'Yes, the potion to prevent any...unwanted small children from giving just about everyone the shock of a lifetime,' said Hermione pertly.

'Bloody hell, it would, wouldn't it?' said Draco conspiratorially. 'Imagine it - the most sensational news that ever rocked Hogwarts; Draco and Hermione's love-child.'

'Oh do stop it, you're making me feel sick,' was the sharp reply. Then Hermione smiled. 'Now, I can only presume that this potion will, well, work; Madam Pomfrey's instructions were quite clear.'

There was a small silence as she recalled her formal, brisk tone of request to Madam Pomfrey, which she had only used to spare herself as much embarrassment as possible for asking for such a thing. Madam Pomfrey had shown some kind of slight surprise, despite the fact that she did not ask any questions.

'So...' Draco said finally.

'So...what?'

'I mean er-' he suddenly started to look uncharacteristically apprehensive. 'Where do we go from here?'

'As in, you don't want to...yet?' Hermione was suddenly becoming nervous and confused herself; she began twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers and gazed at Draco.

'Of course I want to!' said Draco, and then smiled at her expression. 'I just - want it to be right. You do still want to do this?'

Hermione paused. A tumult of emotions coursed through her, as she thought about what sort of step this was. "No strings attached" wasn't exactly part of her vocabulary, and the finality of losing her virginity sparked off anxious feelings - until she looked into Draco's clear grey eyes, and knew that she did, despite this, want it to be him.

'Yes,' she said. 'Draco, I love you. I do, and I think that this will be...an incredible experience.'

'I...love you.' The words felt stilted, strange in his mouth, in his voice, but Draco genuinely meant them. He had hardly heard anyone ever express feelings like this, and it was a bit overwhelming even for the haughty, composed Slytherin.

Hermione couldn't help but kiss him at this, just a peck on the lips, but then Draco put his hands on her waist and deepened it considerably. They clasped hands as he broke away.

'I want this. It was my choice to take...the potion,' she said. 'But still, it's my first time, so...'

'So you're nervous. Well. So am I, a bit,' he admitted.

'You!' She poked him lightly in the chest. 'What do you have to be nervous about; you know what you're doing!'

'I know, but this is you,' explained Draco. 'As if you're in the same class as Pansy and those...others. I didn't love them, not one bit, so naturally I didn't care where or when we did it, be it in a broom closet or in the dungeons.' He shrugged.

'Okay, little bit too much information there.' She smiled. 'But, you're honest, and I think you'll look after me.' She narrowed her eyes at him playfully.

Draco leaned in to kiss her again. 'Of course I'll look after you, I'm a Malfoy; nothing but the finest service here.' He grinned. 'Saying that, the Slytherin dungeons are a pretty grim place to lose your virginity, but fortunately we don't have to resort to those.'

'Hmm, good,' said Hermione. 'I thought about the, erm, possible locations in this castle, and I must admit that your dormitory was the most...appealing idea. We couldn't do it in mine, as the stairs tend to melt when a boy tries to use them.' She blushed yet again.

Draco laughed. 'Don't worry. I think you'll like my dormitory, once you see my great comfortable bed in the middle of it.' Hermione's eyes flashed with excitement, and she felt butterflies dancing frantically in her stomach.

'Okay, show me then,' she whispered, grabbing his hand.

'What?' Draco looked utterly taken aback. 'Now? Right now?'

'When did you think I meant?' asked Hermione. 'I made this decision weeks ago, you know that. And now, we have the perfect opportunity.'

'Well, then, let's go,' he muttered, unable to disguise his excitement, and led her towards the stairs, hoping fervently that his bedroom was not in a complete mess.

The passageway was dark, due to the increasingly shorter days and longer nights, and they crept along it hurriedly, laughing quietly in some kind of passionate nervousness. However, when Draco threw the door open, a dim light revealed the room, making them blink and fall quiet. Hermione first noticed the details of the room that just made it belong in a school somehow; the Hogwarts crest emblazoned on one wall, the parchment scattered on a table, the textbooks piled on the floor. But it was made Draco's own, this room, by the deep green sheets that were folded neatly on the bed (unlike the last time she had seen it,) the serpent-shaped candle she had seen once before, and the dragonhide gloves laid carefully on a small table. The large wardrobe that stood in the corner had one door hanging open, and Draco hastily shut it for some reason, glancing into the mirror that hung there, before turning back to her.

'Well, here it is,' he said simply. 'Better than the last time you were here?'

Hermione blushed deeply at the fading memory of what had happened last time she had been here. To cast it off, she turned towards her boyfriend standing there, and nerves overtook her again. Draco appeared to notice.

'It's only me,' he said gently, taking one of her hands again. Then he pulled her towards him and kissed her in a soft, lingering way that made Hermione's insides melt.

'Mmm,' she said against his lips, putting her hands on his waist. 'Oh, Draco.'

'Everything's going to be fine,' he said soothingly, although there was a quake in his voice and he swallowed.

'No, it's not that,' said Hermione. 'Just - kiss me, will you?'

They kissed, and Hermione's hands went up to Draco's neck, stroking the soft hair there. She could tell he liked it, and he began to kiss her more vigorously, making appreciative noises.

'...That scent,' he suddenly muttered indistinctly against her neck, and Hermione had to think for a moment as to what he meant.

'Essence of Moonflower,' she breathed, as she remembered sprinkling it over her that morning, surprised to find it had lingered on her skin.

He smoothed Hermione's hair back from her face. 'God, I want you,' he muttered. She had begun to undo his shirt buttons slowly, hesitantly, but surely. Draco undid a few, then stopped.

'Come on.'

Then he had taken her hand again and led her to the bed, where they tripped and fell in their haste, Hermione smiling mischievously. Butterflies had begun to flutter madly in her stomach once again, and her heart pounded at the thought of what she was doing. She also had a sudden, disturbing mental image of Percy Weasley - and who knew how many other Head Boys and Girls - doing this very thing, in this very room. She was going to relate it to Draco, but stopped.

Pausing as he leant over her, Draco looked into her eyes. 'You're trembling.'

'I'm fine, I'm - Draco, I love you.'

'I love you.'

The next kiss was terribly insisting and demanding, and soon they were tangled up in each others arms, Hermione undoing more buttons - hers, his, it didn't matter. This time, there would be no saying "no", no restrictions, and she could just fly...

Draco tried to slow down, to make everything perfect, as he felt his arousal grow and Hermione pulled off her shirt at last. She had to sit up to remove the underwear underneath, and leaned back momentarily. He felt his erection stiffen as she became increasingly naked, and shrugged his own shirt off. For a few seconds, they simply stared at each other's nudity in love and desire, until Hermione became self-conscious (Am I beautiful enough? Slender enough? Surely not...). But then Draco began to trace his fingertips along the roundness of the creamy flesh of her stomach, and up...until Hermione sighed and smiled.

'Are you all right?' he whispered.

'Oh god yes, come here.'

Removing the last of the offending articles of clothing and kicking off their shoes, they slipped under the silken covers of the beautifully warm four-poster bed, and looked at each other again. In the silence, all that could be heard was the now insistent pounding of the rain outside, which simply intensified the feelings of cosy solidarity.

Draco breathed heavily, feeling as if he would burst, and Hermione's cheeks were flushed, her lips red and her eyes smouldering. She felt unbelievably exposed that someone else was seeing her like this, naked, and open, but then Draco's eyes told her he felt like this too, and this wasn't a just fleeting affair. No, this was so much more than that. Hands were everywhere, and Hermione felt her fingers glide over the velvety hair that led from the blond's navel...and then back up to his chest.

Trying to hold back, Draco acknowledged the unspoken question that hung in the air, his breath short and warm on her neck. "Ready?" She nodded, and lay still as he climbed on top of her. The sensations had reached breaking point, and she closed her eyes for what would come next...

***

7.12.1997

Dear Diary,

This is it. I, Hermione Granger, am no longer a virgin. I can scarcely believe it myself. But it's true. I have no regrets, not one, just that it could have lasted longer. Oh Diary, I am so in love. With him. My seductive serpent, my secret and sensual lover that no one knows about but us. Of course, I could never share this experience with anyone, so I'm recording it here, in these treasured pages, which makes it seem almost...surreal. To think that I once despised him, after last night's passion. I must have been mad, honestly. It was amazing; there is no other way to describe it. He did look after me, just as he said he would. To be frank, it did hurt rather more than I had expected, but I think I was too nervous. He obviously enjoyed it...and when he came...Oh, I think some things are too private even to write in a secret diary :) He is divine, every inch of him. I feel like I know him a thousand times better than before. I had thought I was rushing into things much too fast, but I really don't think that is possible...I was as eager as he was. Even now, I'm smiling to myself, blushing, and remembering. The next day I woke, and I just watched him for a while. Really, just in the light of dawn, and it illuminated his hair, and I almost cried, it was so lovely. I do apologise, I'm going completely soppy. Where is the real Hermione Granger, you're probably wondering? Well, this is a changed Hermione Granger...I wonder if people will be able to tell, come to think of it? What if they guess by looking at me? What if...okay, I must stop this silly worrying. I think I have some Arithmancy homework to catch up on; I must get on with it. Bye for now.

Hermione