Clandestine Whispers

>>>>>20 Utterly Shaggable

It had been a week since the ending of the compromise. Everything, so far, was going well, and students were looking forward to the end of the final exams, which was the next day.

Draco and Hermione were sitting in the library, talking, when suddenly he asked her an unexpected question.

"Hermione, would you like to celebrate the end of final exams with me?"

"Celebrate? Now why would I want to celebrate? Don't you mean mourn?"

Draco laughed; no more was it the cold, icy, Malfoy laugh. It was Draco's laugh; genuine, real, and a laugh that filled Hermione with happiness. "Oh yeah, right, I forgot; the Gryffindor prefect never celebrates final exams end. Well, how about instead we celebrate...something else. I'll find out something else to celebrate, don't worry. Meet me at lunch tomorrow at the lake, all right? We'll celebrate then."

~~*~~

"You like boats, don't you? You're not afraid of falling in the water?"

Hermione squirmed. "Well, I do get a little afraid of falling in, even though I know how to swim. And I hate when canoes shake around; it makes me nervous."

"Hmm..." Draco frowned at this, and helped Hermione get on the boat. "Well, this is bigger than a canoe, and I promise not to stand up and shake it around. In fact, here's a seat right here, and it's made in such a way that you can't possibly fall out of it."

Hermione laughed, saying, "That's because my feet can't even reach the floor on this chair! It's so tall! How do I get off of it if I want to?"

Draco lay down on the velvet crimson cushioned bed next to her chair, saying, "Oh, you can just fall on top of me."

Hermione giggled, and looked around. The boat they were on was definitely not a canoe. It was more like a raft, but with railings at the sides. The raft had water skis on it, and in the middle of the raft was a tiny little engine room. Draco kept the engine running by a fuel spell. Other than a few oddly tall chairs like the one Hermione sat on, and the bed that Draco lay on, there wasn't much on the boat. Below, he had said, was a room where he kept boat equipment and food. And there was a desk nailed to the floor that had some writing utensils and paper on it.

For a while, Hermione stayed silent, basking in the sun; she was so glad that it was spring, it felt nice to finally be not wearing a warm black robe, and instead she wore a white summer dress that reached down just barely past her knees. She had been glad, this morning, to find that Draco had also decided today was to be a no-Hogwarts-robes day. After all, today was their one break day before the last day of exams. Usually she would be studying madly in the library all day today, but she couldn't pass up this opportunity to spend time with Draco alone.

She knew that Draco didn't mind her not talking; he was the type of boy who could easily occupy himself if needed. He liked to think. Suddenly, Hermione felt his eyes on her, and fought down a blush. She knew he'd react like this to her dress; that was part of the reason she wore it. She turned to look at him, and smiled as he blushed slightly. Yes, he had been looking at her; trying to be inconspicuous. Hermione turned away as her blush flared redder; she wondered what part of her he'd been looking at? Hopefully just her face. Or...maybe...not hopefully?

Hermione was trying and failing at thinking of something else when she felt a wet drop on her head, and before she knew it, rain was furiously shooting down from the sky, big plopping drops, freezing cold. Perplexed, she looked over a Draco, and seeing his come hither gesture, grinned, and threw herself to fall down towards the bed. It felt warmer lying on him, but the rain still fell. She couldn't help but grin remembering the first time she felt his leather clothes rub seductively against her skin as it was now. But now it was even better, because her dress was thin, and she felt the contours of his body more. Shocked by herself, Hermione tried to hide from the wild thoughts and the rain by snuggling her nose into the crook where Draco's neck met his shoulder. Smiling at this sign of affection, Draco said, "I love rain, normally, but this is too much. I hope you don't mind a bit of stuffiness for the sake of a roof." He murmured a spell, and suddenly, with a whoosh, a thick tent cover was over their heads.

Glad to be able to hear the plitter of rain but not feel it harshly on her skin, Hermione smiled, and kissed Draco's neck, saying, "thank you." Draco was about to reply when suddenly Hermione gave his neck another kiss, and then another one. Disguising his surprise, he was attempting to reply again, his mouth open, when suddenly Hermione's mouth landed on his, and they began a passionate liplock. Draco felt passion rush through him as, her full, silky, smooth lips on his, their tongues entwined. As their kisses ended only to begin again, he slid his hands back and forth over her back, able to feel the smoothness through the slick, wet, thin dress of hers; she was soaking wet, and so was he; they hadn't put up the cover soon enough before both of them had become wet from the rain. But Draco didn't mind at all; it was much easier to feel each feminine curve of Hermione against him with her wearing a thin wet dress. Ending a kiss to gently move to lie on his side, dumping Hermione to lie beside him, he began to unbutton his shirt, saying, "Your skin is freezing; it's not warm enough in here."

Hermione was in a daze, feeling as if drunk on butterbeer, as she watched Draco remove his shirt. She wished she had a camera. She found that she couldn't help but roam her gaze over his body, noticing the way the black leather clung even tighter to him because it was wet. Meanwhile, upon turning around from discarding his shirt, Draco barely disguised the yearning that flamed up inside him as he saw Hermione lying in her wet white dress. Both Hermione and Draco realized at the same time that it really was ironic that she'd worn a white dress on a rainy day: now it was almost transparent. Shivering, Hermione ignored the gnawing thought that this could lead to something she shouldn't do, and moved to press against Draco, immediately getting warmer. After having been soaked by rain, Hermione was easily warmed by his body heat.

Hugging herself to Draco, Hermione obediently lifted her head as Draco began to run light kisses down her neck, and then moaned quietly as his tongue swirled lower. Sitting up as his tongue went too far south, Hermione mumbled, "no no no, Draco, don't, don't." Looking up at her, he glared fiercely for a moment, like a spoilt child denied of an early birthday present. Hermione sighed as she looked back at Draco, and repeated, "no."

Grumbling resignedly, Draco asked, "okay, so you won't accept playing 'chess' my way, then. How about I tell you about some of the best moves a 'chess piece' can do?" Hermione smiled, remembering their conversation about chess before, when Draco had said "However, Granger, the only reason you don't play chess is because you don't know how, and barely ever have. If someone taught you how to play chess, or if you taught yourself, you'd want to play chess. And chess would happily let you play it, each piece obeying your orders." And the tone of voice he'd said it in had clearly implied that he didn't actually mean Chess, and that he would be one of those obedient chess pieces if she learned to play his game and how to properly direct him with success. It also implied that eventually, she'd want to 'play chess.' However, right now wasn't really that time. She'd like to learn about 'chess,' but not actually play.

"Okay. Teach me about Chess, but don't make me play until a long time later."

Nodding in reluctant consent, Draco let her lay her head down on his chest, and then slid his hand up her dress, making her gasp in surprise. Her heart raced as his cold hands sidled up her thigh and eventually up to her back, sliding back and forth across her skin. However, although his hands were cold, feeling them on her bare skin made Hermione feel on fire. But as his hands were busy doing this, Draco managed to untie the bow at the top of her dress with his teeth, revealing more of her cleavage to him than she found comfortable. Draco, though, apparently liked it, and would let nothing stop him as he grabbed the hem of her dress and slid it up over her shoulders and head.

She felt horribly revealed, and rolled off of him, wishing she had worn more chaste underclothes. Draco pounced on her like an animal, ravenously licking and rubbing her everywhere, his hands roaming. Feeling slightly frightened and more than a bit nervous at his lust, Hermione hoarsely groaned in protest, saying, "No, Draco..." But he didn't stop. He wouldn't, and apparently couldn't even if he'd wanted to.

Mumbling apologies to her, Draco slid his mouth down her stomach, his tongue flicking at her navel. Then, pressing her close, he rolled over so she was back on top of him, and Hermione, although trying her hardest not to be any more vulnerable, whimpered as she felt his crotch, rock hard, press against hers. Finally having found a weakness, Draco furthered the torture by pressing harder against her, and used this to distract her as he fumbled at the clasp for her bra. Shrieking in fear and outrage, Hermione quickly pulled away and redressed herself, and went to sit, staring angrily at Draco, a few feet away from him.

His face blank, he lowered his eyes, saying neutrally, "I couldn't help it, Hermione. I didn't mean to."

"But you did it anyway. That makes it worse. You knew it was wrong!"

"Well, not really wrong, because we planned to go even further than that someday...right?" His voice suddenly fearful, he repeated, "right?"

Hermione frowned slightly. "Maybe, I dunno. But I hated how you did that, totally controlling me and doing stuff against my protests!"

"You liked it though, didn't you? I heard your noises. You liked it, and didn't want to like it, but couldn't help it."

Suddenly furious at his attitude, plus the fact that he was right, Hermione moved forward and gave him a vicious slap, one that made his head turn with the force of the blow. Afterwards, however, she backed away quickly, thinking she'd done a huge mistake. An angry Slytherin was not pleasant; especially a Malfoy!

However, Draco surprised her yet again, and turned to look at her; laughing loudly, he exclaimed, "Damn, you really can do a good bitch slap! And way better than Pothead and Weasel, too." Hermione didn't know whether to laugh at his compliment, or glower at his insult towards her friends. Then he winced, frowning, and muttered, "Fuck. It stings!" Hermione laughed at this, tears stinging her eyes, her sides beginning to hurt; she laughed so hard that she landed on the floor, bruising her rear.

Peeking over the edge of his bed, only his hair, ears, eyebrows and eyes visible, Draco chuckled, tittering. Then, holding out a hand to her, he said, "C'mere, you vivacious, sexy little bookworm!" Blushing at the nickname, she let him help her up, and then lay down on her back on the bed. Her voice dismal, she said, "I've got to go soon, Draco. I have to study for tomorrow's exams."

Grumbling at hearing this, Draco leant down, whispering, "ONLY on one condition."

Hermione, apprehensive, squeaked, "what?"

He grinned, sending her heart fluttering. "Let me kiss you for a maximum of ten minutes."

"TEN minutes? Even five is too much! I'd get out of breath! How about two?"

He frowned, but then said, "fine." And they began.

~~*~~

"Bloody hell! You've just made my day, Justin!"

"What are you talking about?"

"These Omnioculars are great; there's a funky raft out on the lake, and with these wondrous 'oculars of yours, I can see inside! There's people snogging in there!"

"WHAT?"

Grabbing his Omnioculars from Seamus, Justin Finch-Fletchley quickly looked in the direction the other boy pointed. Only their outline seen through the thin tent-like rain covering, were two people, obviously engrossed in each other, pressed closely together, lips locked.

"wow. I wonder who they are?"

~~*~~

Two minutes were almost up.

So far, Hermione had been very grateful for breathing breaks, although they never lasted very long. There was one fact that she'd definitely been able to establish in the two minutes: Draco was a wonderful kisser; of course, she'd known that before, but this had really proved the fact to her.

Recovering from their last, Draco asked, still breathing a bit heavily, "Okay, ready for the last one? It's gonna be a winner, I tell you. You prepared?"

Hermione, eyes twinkling, smiled, saying, "Never. But go ahead, anyway."

Hermione's words actually ended up being quite true; nothing could have prepared her for this kiss. Lunging in, Draco pressed his lips against her extremely hard, with bruising force. His tongue viciously attacked her mouth, sliding in to caress every single crevice, pushing against hers violently. Her passion building like growing lava in a volcano, Hermione figured this was probably the best one yet. Sure, it hurt like hell, she was sure her lips would be a little colored afterwards, but it would probably go away soon. Draco was truly amazing. He put everything he had into this particular kiss, and Hermione could tell. It was so passionate, so hard, that she gave a long moan while still in the middle of the activity. Then, once his tongue was satisfied, his lips pressed even harder against her, and he made no caution to be gentle when his teeth dug into her bottom lip, drawing blood; he then licked it off of her, purring. Hermione had mixed emotions; it felt good, extremely good, but it hurt just as much as it felt good. Draco chose a very powerful, passionate way of venting his unfulfilled lust and anger out on Hermione.

Finally, it ended, and Draco broke the kiss abruptly, his breath heaving like he'd just run across the Quidditch field six times. For a minute, he stared at her, perhaps awed at his own power; he stared at her in shock with only half his disguise, gaze piercing her with its intensity.

These were the only times Draco revealed any of his true emotions; when he was alone, totally and utterly alone, or in a private place, with Hermione. He revealed everything through his eyes and rarely his face; usually at school he was utterly neutral and seemingly heartless. But with Hermione he could become scared, happy, angry, sad, nervous, and especially passionate. Just being with her drove his hormones insane. That was part of the torture. But they both tolerated their different tortures and continued to spend time together, regardless.

Putting on his shirt, Draco promtly rolled off of her to lie on his back, arm covering his eyes. Mumbling, "You can go study now; I need to nap," he closed his eyes, breathing soon rhythmic. Getting her stuff and making sure she wasn't too disheveled, Hermione grabbed the remote, opened the tent cover. She was glad to find that the rain wasn't pouring anymore. Looking at the clock, she was amazed to see an hour had gone by. Putting a spell on herself so she could walk on the water, she was soon walking back towards Hogwarts castle, unaware that part of her and Draco's activities and their parting had been seen by two Omniocular using spies.

Hermione smirked to herself as she stepped into Hogwarts. Draco was such a character, so unique. He was different than all other people she knew; special. Sometimes he could be so soft, sometimes so harsh, sometimes so unfeeling, sometimes so rude. Whatever attitude he sometimes had, he had the opposite attitude the next time she saw him. He was soft, as if made up of many tender petals of a rose. But he was also harsh, and thus the rose was like a forever burning, dark and wild fire. And Hermione stood beside Draco. She always remained by him; beside the rose of flame.