Losing Their Touch

Hermione looked up from Planetarium, Volume II, the Astronomy book they had just begun reading for the second term of her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The library was almost deserted, except for her, Harry, and Ron, the latter two trying hard to study and mostly failing pretty miserably, and a couple of Ravenclaws and two Slytherins who sat across the room.

As if on cue, just then the heavy mahogany library doors opened and Draco Malfoy strode in, heading straight for the Slytherins. Hermione followed him with his eyes. The past two years had favoured Draco, who had always been good-looking, but was now truly reaching toward stunning. He had grown a lot, but not only in length, for he had also become more muscled, no doubt from Quidditch practice. He had let his blond hair grow out, and wore it shoulder-length now, often tied together with a velvet ribbon in the back. He was starting to resemble his father, whom Hermione had had the unfortunate displeasure to meet a few years back in Diagon Alley, even to the point that his manners and attitude - cold, calculating and ever haughty - seemed an exact copy of Malfoy senior at times.

Draco had always been their enemy at Hogwarts, but it seemed as if with time, the hate her best friends harboured for Draco Malfoy had only grown, and vice versa, Draco seemed to hate Harry and Ron more than ever. All of them had grown up quite a bit, of course, and Hermione's appearance, too, had changed a lot. She still had the same pretty smile, and sparkling brown eyes, but her hair, which used to be rather bushy, had become more curly, and her body had developed womanly curves in all the right proportions. Hermione didn't consider herself beautiful, but she knew she looked cute, or pretty, and that in combination with her intellect and wits made her somewhat popular with the boys.

Draco had now reached the table of his fellow Slytherins across the library from her and her friends. As if he could feel her eyes on him, he turned around slowly and locked eyes with her. Smirking, he quirked one eyebrow, as if to ask her something. Imperceptibly to Harry and Ron, who were now discussing Fred and George's recently opened joke-shop, Hermione gave a tiny nod. Blushing, she turned away from Draco immediately and dove back into her book. When she looked up again, Draco had left the library.

About fifteen minutes later Hermione walked stealthily through one of Hogwarts' many corridors, on the sixth floor. She had made up some feeble excuse to Harry and Ron about having to go find some of the Gryffindor girls to ask them something, and had quickly left the library. Someone else entered the hallway from the opposite side, and Hermione slowed her pace until they had passed and left the corridor deserted again.

Moments later, Hermione reached a plain, wooden door that looked like that of a closet of some kind. Checking the hallway one more time to assure herself that it was really empty, she quickly opened the door and stepped inside.

He was already there. Lounging on the bed in nothing but a silk robe, Draco looked at her expectantly. 'I thought you were never going to show,' he said icily, but with an excited undertone.

'Of course I was,' she countered, eyeing him as she began to remove her own clothes. He looked good enough to eat. Come to think of it, that wasn't such a bad idea. Hermione smiled, somewhat wickedly for her nature.

Draco, as usual picking up on her every emotion to the point of annoyance, noticed her grin. 'Took you long enough,' he said, 'but I forgive you.'

'Like I need forgiving from you,' Hermione muttered under her breath, not paying much attention to their banter. She was still grinning.

'Got something in mind?' said Draco, getting up. He stepped over to her and took both her hands, stopping her from undressing herself. 'Let me help you with that,' he said huskily.

Hermione didn't protest. She let her hands rest on his shoulders as he began undressing her, placing light kisses wherever he passed, fuelling her desire. Soon, Hermione was breathing heavily. Draco moved up again and caught her breath in his mouth, kissing her deeply. Their tongues battling fiercely, Hermione wrapped her arms around her lover and pulled him even closer. 'Let's move to the bed,' she whispered, her mouth hot on his ear.

Lying down on the soft mattress of the large four-poster, Hermione remembered the first time she had been here, in this bed, in this room, with him.

'Granger, what are you doing all by yourself in the library this time of day?' he sneered. 'Oh, I know, books must be all the company you can get.'

She refused to answer such a childish taunt, but she could feel the hate burn inside her nonetheless. 'Well, you're here all alone, too, Malfoy. Why?' She wasn't really interested in the answer, just wanted him to leave, really.

'I'm here to talk to you,' he stated.

'What?' Hermione blurted out, startled. 'Why on earth would you want to do that?'

'Because you haven't been able to keep your eyes off me since we got back to Hogwarts,' he said coldly.

Hermione could feel icicles begin to form in the pit of her stomach. He said it so matter-of-factly, and she could feel that the look on her face and her burning cheeks made it impossible to deny his words. It was true. She had been unable to keep her eyes off him ever since they had returned from summer break. She still hated him as much as ever, if not more, nowadays, but his stunning looks and the ever strong confidence he radiated had attracted her despite herself. Yet she had hoped that she had been secretive enough to have the effect he had on her go unnoticed. Not so, apparently.

Still, Hermione felt she had to try. Pulling herself together and ignoring the icicles, she retorted: 'Yeah right. Why would I want to look at you?'

Draco sighed theatrically. 'Oh, give it up, Granger. It's too obvious.'

Hermione, if possible turning even more red, closed her eyes for a moment before she dared to look at him again. His light blue-grey eyes pierced her, revelling in her humiliation and proudly daring her to deny his claim. She decided to give in. 'Alright. So I stared at you,' she said, forcing herself not to look away. 'I'm sure I'm not the only girl who does it.'

This comment seemed to please him immensely. 'Good,' thought Hermione. 'Now go away.'

'Of course you're not the only one,' said Draco disdainfully, without so much as a smile, 'but from you it's more amusing. You disappoint me, Granger. I thought you hated me as much as I hate you.'

The hate, now mixed powerfully with anger, flared up inside her again, burning away the icicles in her stomach. 'I do, you stupid git. I hate you. That has nothing to do with it. And I want you to leave, now!'

'Now, now,' Draco tsk-ed. 'This is not your library. And besides, wouldn't you rather go somewhere more, say, private?'

'Wh-What?' stammered Hermione, caught completely off-guard. She took a step back and stared at him openly. 'What do you mean? Are you crazy?'

'No more than you are, I should say,' said Draco, irritatingly sure of himself. 'You just said it yourself. I hate you, you hate me, but that has nothing to do with it.' As he was talking, he advanced on her, and she kept stepping back until her back pressed against one of the long bookshelves. Draco stood in front of her, so close that their bodies almost touched. Hermione felt herself tingle all over, as if gentle flames were licking her body. He was so close... and then he was kissing her. Grabbing her hands, Draco pushed them over her head, holding her still while his mouth locked with hers. He was strong, and Hermione could not have gotten away had she wanted to, but after a few very shocked and confused first seconds, she no longer wanted to get away, anyway. His mouth on her felt so good and she responded eagerly, secretly having dreamt of this for weeks.

After nearly going all the way in the library, where they could have been discovered by anyone, enough of Hermione's brain started working again to realize that they, indeed, had to go somewhere more private. Half of her couldn't believe what she was doing - kissing Malfoy, making out with him - and told her not to go through with it, but the other half drowned out those thoughts and replaced them with only one thought: want him. So bad.

Arms around each other, Draco possessively holding her close, they had sneaked out of the library and down the corridor, which, thankfully, had been dark except for the flickering light of the torches that sat on the stone walls every so many meters. Accompanied by none but their shadows, they had come upon a door to a room that Hermione was absolutely sure had never been there before. The door itself looked plain enough but the room behind it was perfect. A large, beautiful wooden four-poster, bathrobes, soft, thick carpet, lit candles lighting the place, and everything else they could have wished for, was there as if waiting for them. Later Hermione would find out that they had stumbled upon the Room of Requirement, or rather, it had stumbled upon them because they had needed it so at the time, but at the time, she could not have pondered the mystery of the room. All she could think about was Draco, and what he was doing to her, and how he was making her feel.

The bed never creaked, which was perfect, as they had tried many different ways and positions in the six months that had passed since that unexpected first time. What had begun as a secret that she was more ashamed of than she enjoyed, most the time, had turned into something unnamed, that Hermione had to admit had become a big part of her life. He had become a big part of her life. She lived for their secret meetings, their romps that sometimes lasted all through the night, leaving them tired but satisfied the next day in class. She liked it when he smirked at her and gave her that look that said, 'I know you want me, and I want you just as bad,' and she liked the smiles they shared, unnoticed by anyone but them. And she loved the way he sometimes looked at her, right afterwards, all exhausted and sleepy-eyed, lips still swollen from lust and satisfaction - so kissable, those lips - and for once without the attitude. It never lasted long, that moment.

'I hate you, Malfoy.'

'Likewise, Granger.'

They always fought afterwards. Today was no exception.

Stretching languidly on the bed, Draco propped himself up on one arm and looked down at her. 'Shouldn't you be getting back to your books, smarty-pants?'

Hermione looked at him incredulously for a split second before she burst into laughter. 'Smarty-pants?' she mocked. 'That's the best you can come up with? Draco, I do believe you're losing your touch!'

The words hadn't left her mouth or Hermione realized the slip-up. 'Uh, I mean, Malfoy,' she added lamely, totally flustered.

A devious grin spread on Draco's face. 'Well Granger,' he said pointedly, 'Looks like I'm not the only losing my touch, so to speak.' His hand caressed her bare belly lightly, before sliding up and cupping her left breast, squeezing it.

'Well, leave then, you git,' said Hermione, sitting up and gathering her underwear to her. She couldn't believe what had happened, what she had done. With Malfoy!

'Why should I leave? This is not your room, Granger.'

She couldn't stand his eternal smirk. Oh, he thought he was something now, having shagged her, touched her where no-one else ever had before. She wanted to wipe that annoying grin off his face, and pummel him so he would stop looking at her like that, all triumphant and mocking and I-have-you-now. 'Just get out and leave me alone,' she sighed, tiredly.

'Stupid mudblood,' Draco spat, and that did it. She didn't know how fast to get dressed and flee the room, her heart heavy and deeply wounded.

Draco reached out and tugged a stray curl of brown hair behind Hermione's ear. The gentle gesture made her smile despite herself. This time he was the one to get up first and start dressing. Moments later, looking his immaculate self again, there was no way to tell Draco Malfoy had not spent the past hour studying in the library.

At the door, Draco turned. 'Hate you, Granger,' he smirked.

She smiled back at him. 'Likewise, Malfoy.'

A last look, and he left the room. Hermione leaned back against the pillow and sighed contentedly.

He never called her a mudblood anymore these days.