Magnetic Attraction - Chapter Seven

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Chapter 7: Your Eyes Turn Elsewhere

Their meal at Gryffindor table that morning went much like it had the previous day, with Ron scowling at them and Harry and Ginny struggling to create some kind of conversation. Draco stayed quiet, as did Hermione, their only words being “Pass the milk,” and a curt hello and goodbye. When he was done forcing down a meal and quietly urging her to do the same, they bid a mumbled goodbye, not noticing Ginny’s searching look. Once they had left, Draco asked what Hermione wanted to do. She shrugged, wandering aimlessly down the hallway at his side.

“Ok, let me ask again. What did you always want to do but couldn’t because Potty and Weasel wouldn’t let you?” She opened her mouth but he interrupted. “And don’t say living in the library or that weird house elf thing.” She thought long and hard, passing over all wants or ideas she’d had.

“Nothing really. I just went with the flow,” she mumbled finally, realizing at long last she had been following Ron around like a puppy dog for the past two years. I had my reasons. Draco, sensing that this was not a time to mock her, quickly moved his arm around her shoulder, still walking down the hallway in without a particular direction.

“There must be something. Did you ever want to skinny dip in the lake or…” he waved his other hand vaguely as she raised her eyebrows. “Or try and hold a séance for Peeves of something?”

“Well I suppose there is one thing, but it’s really random,” she said, struck with a brain wave.

“The more random, the more fun,” he responded, giving her a wink. She ignored it.

“You’ve been warned. I’ve always kind of wanted to fix up the shrieking shack,” she told him, watching as he smiled disbelievingly.

“Nice joke Granger. But seriously.” They turned a corner, still wandering aimlessly, to see a small group of Ravenclaw fourth years huddled together. He quickly moved his arm off her shoulder and grabbed her hand, doing his best to look inconspicuous. She sighed, and the group of girls looked up. The giggled as he passed, one even going so far as to wave to Draco. Ever the charmer, he winked back, causing the girl to swoon and lose her balance, leaning against the wall. Used to this behavior but not liking it all, Hermione growled lightly and pulled him down the corridor and into an alcove. “What?” he asked, looking down at her. She cursed his height.

“First of all, stop flirting with everyone with legs, it’s really irritating,” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him. He began to smirk yet again.

“You jealous, Granger?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Malfoy. We both know my eyes turn elsewhere,” she fired back, not realizing it did more damage to him than intended. He scowled at her as if she were a bad potions grade.

“Oh really?” he cooed, wondering where the limit lay. Draco took a risk and tugged his hand from hers, moving to place his palms pressed against the wall on either side of her head. She stared defiantly up at him, as the attraction pulled his body against hers. Slowly he bent forward and leant his forehead against hers.

“Yes really,” she answered curtly against his lips, knowing what was coming, and that it would be useful to push him away. When a Malfoy wants something, he doesn’t stop till he gets it.

“Well, I highly doubt that,” he whispered, before once again kissing her gently. Yet again, she didn’t pull away.

He had missed this, and it hadn’t come off his mind since yesterday. She was an amazing kisser, but this kiss was better than the first one. There was emotion, a crush on his part and a desire for more, with loneliness and pure attraction from Hermione. Draco leaned closer into her, moving one hand behind her head so it didn’t hit the wall, while the other stayed pressed against the stone, supporting his weight to prevent him from smushing her. Hers wound around his neck as her eyes stayed firmly shut, causing her to miss the look of pure desire flaming in his own slate pupils. They both forgot they were in public, though no one was around, and continued on as they would if they were in their rooms, with Hermione wrapping her legs around his waist, without realizing she was doing it. The only thing preventing her from falling to the stone floor was his gentle push against her.

She moaned softly as he nudged her bottom lip with his tongue. The teenager allowed him entrance, her hand rising to tangle in his hair.

Maybe Draco isn’t so bad, she absentmindedly thought, as he sighed into the kiss, carefully massaging the back of her neck as his hand strayed downwards. But he’s not- oh, his train of thought faded just before she could even think of the name, as he pulled his lips away, leaving only a millimeter of air between them. He was panting and seemed as winded as she was, but a small smile wasn’t hidden as he looked at her.

“Do your eyes still turn elsewhere, Mya?” he asked with a touch of sarcasm, cursing himself for asking such a weak question. Yet at the same time, he really wanted to hear her answer. Hermione, however, was suddenly plagued by a newfound wave of overwhelming guilt as she gazed into his hopeful eyes, remembering a pair so much like them that would never see again.

Flashback

“Are you feeling better, Mya?” the teenager had asked her, radiating concern as he sat across from her in the library. “Were you able to sleep at all?” It had made her feel so appreciated to have someone, a popular boy no less, asking after her. She had given him a smile and nodded. “I hope you know that if you ever need to talk I’m here to listen. Anytime, honestly.”

End Flashback

What could she tell Draco now? That she could still be in love with a boy who died a little over 2 years previously? That her whole obsession with Ron was just something the lonely portion of her brain had talked her into? That she for once didn’t know the answer? Of course not, he would get defensive and insult her or make a pitiful attempt at storming off. His mother had just died; she couldn’t do that to him.

And yet at the same time, she didn’t want to play along and break his heart. She wasn’t Parvati, after all. No, she wouldn’t give in to lust. That was below her. So instead she willed up all her Gryffindor courage and unwrapped her legs from his waist.

“Did you expect me to, Malfoy?” She could see his face harden into a sneer as he backed away from her, grabbing her hand. She had struck a nerve, and though his face was masked, his eyes were undeniably hurt.

“Don’t be dense, mudblood. I just know that I’m that good of a kisser,” he drawled back, his voice missing its kick. One step forward, three steps back, and all pet names and gentle supports were replaces yet again by formalities and insults. As he granted her one last scowl before pulling her out of the alcove and down the hall towards the library, she wondered if he really had actual feelings for her. There had been passion in the kiss, but love? Or even a crush? Doubtful. Then again, Hermione had begun to doubt a lot of things recently. Maybe it was possible. After all, everything seemed possible now. Maybe one day, she just might be able to tell Draco Malfoy the secret she’d been hiding.

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Draco was beyond confused as he sat at a desk in the corner of the school library once again. The fat tomb resting in front of him had no new information about the attraction hidden away in its tiny font, but he wasn’t sure that he cared. He had a bigger problem now, and that was the petite, mousy brown haired girl across from him. She didn’t fancy him, while he found himself thinking constantly about her. Needless to say, this wasn’t an arrangement he liked. What was wrong with her? Seriously, why wasn’t she staring at him?

There’s someone else, he realized suddenly as she blew away that same impatient strand of hair. And it’s not Weasely, that’s her secret. He really wanted to know who this person was. Who was better than him? Sure his curiosity was fueled by arrogance, but still. It must be the guy she thought I was, the dead guy! This was getting him nowhere, what guy, better than him, was dead? Probably a hufflepuff, if her boxers signified anything. Think Draco, think! Who’s died at Hogwarts while we’ve been here? Who’s someone Hermione would look up to? Someone with honor. Someone who- oh. Well, that’s sure explained a lot. No wonder she was upset.

She wasn’t working, her quill poised over the blank sheet of paper as if to write, but it hadn’t moved, and a drop of ink had fallen from the tip onto the paper. She was instead just staring at the book open in front of her, but not really seeing it. Lost in thought, the girl’s wavy hair fell delicately around her face, once again hiding in its shadow. She must have been trying to forget about him, thinking it too painful. There wasn’t a way for her to tell her two friends; they would rattle on about enemies. But didn’t that guy have a girlfriend? What a tangled web of lies she must have weaved. And yet once again he was the person to see through it. What was she thinking? About him, Draco, or the other guy? Was she even thinking about boys? She was a lot stronger than he had originally thought.

I just hurt her, he thought sadly. I offered her a lifeline then tugged it out of her grip.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” he told her quietly, having no trouble apologizing for once. She didn’t look up, just continued staring at her book. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t,” she finally responded, not moving her focus from the random book in front of her. It didn’t feel like enough, so he continued.

“You know you can tell me anything, Mya, right? I’m always here to listen.” The irony of he situation and who had said those words before could have lead Hermione to laugh. But she didn’t have the energy.

”Oh yes, Malfoy, because you’d love to hear rants about unrequited love from a mudblood.” He winced, as she still made no move to look up.

“It’s not the unrequited love that hurts, Hermione,” he told her, his voice implying more than he had meant it to.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“It’s not Weasely who keeps you up at night, is it?” Her face didn’t defy her shock, it remained blank, but he could tell he’d stunned her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I can assure you I don’t pine for you as I lie in bed.” He stifled a snort, but didn’t take the bait.

“We’ll start on that later. Bu I’m pretty sure you do know what I’m talking about. You can admit it, you fell in love with-,”

“Oh honestly!” Hermione exclaimed, finally snapping her head up. She looked undeniably guilty. “Why is it that you have such a thirst for dramatics, Malfoy?” Students scattered among the surrounding desks looked over, curious as to what Draco had done to anger the head girl now. “Why can’t you just pull your nose out of my business for one minute?” She glared at him, cheeks flushing as she realized she was yelling at him in public, but he wanted to grin. Dramatics? Ha! She’d just practically admitted it! Plus, he could see her walls crumbling; he could see the want to walk to someone building up in her brown eyes.

“Fine Granger, deny it. Just so long as you know that I’m here. I’ll be here for a while.” He lowered his voice so the eavesdroppers couldn’t hear his final statements. “And when you’re ready to stop hiding what your feelings are, I’ll listen. I won’t tell anyone about your little hidden love to a certain champion.” His words came as a shock even to him, how fierce they sounded, so he dropped the smirk he had been wearing for a look of understanding and concern. She scowled at him, but didn’t pull her hand away when he placed his over hers. “And I apologize for the dramatics.”

“Apology accepted. Now get out your potions textbook so I can work on my essay.”

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