Never Mind Affection

Never Mind Affection

Chapter 1

"Granger," Draco cooed, "you do realize your wand is at my throat?"

She could feel the heat of her anger spread from her cheeks to her collarbone. And from there it spread throughout her body, to the tips of her extremities. To the tip of her wand.

"I swear," she said quietly, her eyes closing for a moment, "I swear, Malfoy, if you ever put your . . . filthy . . . lips on me again, I'll--well, I don't know what I'll do, but I can assure you it will be humiliating and painful."

And with that, she tucked her wand into her robes, picked up her bag and walked swiftly down the hall. Draco stood there, rubbing the spot where Hermione had jabbed her wand into his neck, and he watched her, silent determination setting his gaze.

"I am by no means, Ms. Granger, unacquainted with pain."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione was furious. How dare that Malfoy kiss her, touch her like . . . like that! After all that's transpired between them. Harry helped put his father in prison for Merlin's sake! Now all of a sudden, in 7^th year, when the enmity between good and evil is at its pinnacle, when the battle for all is surely upon them, Draco decides to find her . . . how did he put it? Oh, yes, "strangely alluring." Insufferable!

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Ron had told her once that he would be quite happy if, one day, while she was rolling her eyes at something insufferable he and/or Harry had done, her eyes would, "Just pop right out! I mean, just roll right out of your skull!"

Since then she had tried to restrain herself. Hermione closed her book and gave up on studying for the night. She was too distracted by Malfoy's odd behavior.

"What's this? Closing up shop, already? To the hospital wing, love, I'm sure Madam Pomfrey has a draught to fix whatever's ailing you."

"Oh, Ron." Hermione blushed a deep scarlet whenever he called her love. She was glad to have a pleasant distraction and would save her Malfoy dilemma for another day. Right now she just wanted to feel that all was right with her world, and Ron always had a way of doing just that.

"So, what's the matter?"

"Why does something have to be the matter? Honestly, Ron, can't a girl just want to knock off early for once? It's not as if I'm behind in my studies."

"Sounds fishy to me, mate," said Harry through a mouthful of treacle tart.

"Oi, Harry, visiting the kitchen again, eh? Did you bring some for us, this time?"

"Sure, but all I have left are these tarts . . . Do you think you can conjure some pumpkin juice, 'Mione?"

Again, Hermione stifled the urge to roll her eyes.

"You two are like bottomless pits!"

"Aff ta ke fasren fo quidi."

"Oh, Ron, at least swallow first!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Look at them over there, Crabbe, all happy and gay. They're denying the inevitable, really. Especially the mudblood. It's disgusting, really, the way she . . . positively glows, like . . . with . . . happiness. As if her 'superior' intellect alone will save her and her filthy comrades from their fates. Who can withstand the Dark Lord's terrible power, Goyle? Not I, for one and not them, either. No, we'll all be crushed beneath his will."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She had been enjoying Ron's imitation of Professor Trelawney from Harry and Ron's latest divination class, when she looked up to find Draco Malfoy staring straight at her. She looked away, but a few moments later, a surreptitious glance in his direction found him staring intensely into her face. Quite unnerved, Hermione abruptly excused herself from dinner, claiming she had just remembered some last minute calculations she needed to add to her arithmancy homework. She just wanted to remove herself from Malfoy's unflinching gaze as quickly as possible, and she could feel his eyes on her back even as she stepped over the threshold and out of the Great Hall. He must be smarting over her harsh rebuff of his 'advances', she reasoned. Hermione was sure that it was just another ploy by Malfoy to mine for information and ingratiate himself to the Dark Lord. She had seen right through him and he was just planning retaliation. So why hadn't she told Harry and Ron, yet? In fact, it had been two days and she hadn't even told Ginny.

In a few moments, she found herself outside of the library. She didn't mean to come here, but the library had always been her retreat. It was like a sanctuary; there was no Harry or Ron to interrupt her train of thought with their special brand of silliness. She decided to brush up on basic potions. N.E.W.T.S. were coming and one could never be too prepared. Besides, anything was better than being ogled by Malfoy--that slimy troll.

It was only when the words began to swirl on the page and spell out time to leave that Hermione decided to head back to Gryffindor tower. She would have to find out what charm Madam Pince used to do that. It was quite ingenious. Tiredly, Hermione gathered her things, stopped by Madam Pince to inquire about the charm and check out Potions: Theory and Practice. As she stepped over the threshold, she was completely horrified to find Draco Malfoy waiting for her outside of the library. Damn! The library was locked and no one around for miles. Naturally, she immediately drew her wand--as did Draco.

"Drop your wand, Granger."

"You first, Malfoy"

They circled each other for a moment, wands aimed at the heart, daring the other to attack.

"I'm not here to duel you," Draco finally said, lowering his wand.

"Then what do you want?" Hermione lowered hers slightly. "Another kiss? You'd have to get past my wand first, Malfoy. And then you'd have to kill me!"

"Fair enough . . . Expelliarmus!"

Hermione's wand flew from her hand. Damn, again! Sleep depravation had slowed her reflexes. Her attempt to summon her wand was thwarted by Draco's expert reflexes.

"Oh, no, pet, it won't be that easy."

Draco leaned seductively against the wall on which Hermione had her back, placing his forearm just above her head. He had her trapped. No wand. No friends to beat that accursed smirk from his ferrety little face. He playfully flicked a stray lock from her face, which was now reddening with fury.

"Not so formidable without you wand, are you, Granger?"

Hermione said nothing, but continued in her attempts to make his head explode using psychokinesis. Draco leaned in closer, placing his nose inches away from her collarbone, and inhaled deeply.

"You smell like vanilla and jasmine, love. My two favorite scents."

"I'm not your love you insufferable toe rag."

Draco sighed, still flicking her hair with his wand.

"No, I suppose you aren't, but with any luck you'll be an incredible lay."

Hermione stared incredulously at Draco's bluntness.

"Why you . . . If you honestly think that I could . . . with you, of all people!"

Hermione's flustered chattering was abruptly ended by the deepest, lustiest kiss Draco could muster. She struggled for a moment, but then, to Draco's utter amazement, Hermione began to kiss him back. And with more fever and urgency than he thought possible for such an uptight little witch. He was completely taken aback by her sudden passion. Hermione's delicate hands roamed freely about his chest and he became intoxicated by her vanilla and jasmine scented kisses. Draco uttered a low moan as he momentarily broke their kiss to regard Hermione's contented visage. She looked so beautiful he was almost sorry she was beneath him. Mere beauty and intelligence did not negate her sheer filthiness.

Intelligence . . . Draco suddenly had a thought, but it was too late.

"Incarcerous," said Hermione softly. Suddenly, thick ropes flew out of Hermione's wand and bound Draco from neck to ankles. The force of which knocked him to the ground.

"Why you clever little minx," Draco said, a little winded. "You really had me going there, love--in more ways than one." With that he gave an impudent wink.

"Indeed, Malfoy, what would possess you to think I'd voluntarily kiss a crass, obnoxious little prat who doesn't even want to be seen in public with me?"

"If you must know, Granger, I figured a good snogging--and eventual shagging--might loosen you up a bit. You know, clear away those Mudblood blues. But judging by the way you kissed me I'd say Weasley has already had quite a go at it!"

Draco imagined his indelicate comment would cause Hermione's fur to bristle, but to his chagrin she looked down at him with a malevolent grin.

It was almost a smirk . . .

"You know, Malfoy, I could make your pretty hair jump from your head to your chest and then do a little jig. Or I could turn your face into a mountain range of whiteheads reminiscent of the Himalayas. But today . . . today, I think I'll settle for banishing your clothes to the lake, love."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Draco's nude body shivered beneath the ropes Hermione had fashioned for him.

"This isn't over, Granger!" Hermione sighed heavily.

"Of course not, Malfoy. I wouldn't expect you to grasp the concept of a simple Mudblood, such as myself, being thoroughly repulsed by your wretched existence."

"You really ought to thank me, pet. I know this is the most action you've seen in your miserable little life."

Hermione looked at him with a delicate mix of pity and loathing.

"I will have you!" Draco hissed, but he was hissing at her rapidly decreasing form.

Draco struggled against his bindings. How the hell long does this spell last, anyway? After what felt like an hour, Draco couldn't decide whether to be furious at Granger's impudence or thoroughly impressed with her spell prowess. That abominable, know-it-all, affront to all that is pure and magical . . . was a sweat inducing, force to be reckoned with. Breaking her in would be quite an undertaking, but he had to follow through. He'd never be able to forgive himself for letting someone like her get the best of someone like him.

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