But if you hold me without hurting me
You'll be the first who ever did
-Cinnamon Girl, Lana Del Rey
Thursday, December 21st, 2000
They found little ways to touch each other.
Every time Hermione asked for a book, Draco would hand it to her slowly, letting his fingers linger on hers. When she took out a package of peppermints—his favorite peppermints—and covertly reached into the box to grab one and came up empty, he got up and gave Hermione one from the dish on his desk, moving his hand away a heartbeat later than he needed to.
When Hermione had stepped into the lift to get to the office and found it empty save for Draco and an old, wrinkled witch she didn't recognize, Hermione stood right next to him, hands dangling at her sides so their fingers would brush with every jolt of the lift. When Draco's hand drifted to her lower back to guide her into a room she would lean into his touch, shivering at the contact.
But stolen touches never measure up to those that are freely given.
✧ ✧ ✧
Hermione nibbled on the end of her quill as she stared fixedly at the entry about thallium in Terrible Toxins and Perilous Poisons. She had read the section at least fifteen times without being able to focus. Every time she tried to soak in the words, memories of her near-kiss with Draco flooded her mind. Leave it to Draco to distract her from tracking down a murderer. Hermione shook her head in an outward attempt to rid herself of the intrusive thoughts, then quickly stopped because she realized how ridiculous she probably looked. Sighing, she rubbed her temples and flattened out the book's page, ready to try paying attention to work once more.
Draco watched her mouth wrap around the quill and licked his lips. He had half a mind to get up and snatch it away from Hermione; the bloody thing was the reason he hadn't been able to be productive the whole morning. The annoyance intensified as he saw her flush at an unknown thought.
Who the fuck was making her blush?
He'd give her something to blush about.
"Granger," Draco said. Hermione looked up as she brushed a stray curl out of her face. He wondered what it would be like to run his hands through those curls as he traced a path of lazy kisses down her throat.
"Yes, Draco?" she asked expectantly.
Draco. Not Malfoy, sneered with derision and contempt. Draco, with a gentle smile and brown eyes glinting with laughter.
"I'm going to pick something up for lunch," he said, noting the way Hermione's face fell. She must have thought he would leave her to eat alone. Silly girl. "I'll be back in five minutes. Don't miss me too much," Draco added with a smirk before he left the room, dress shoes clicking on the floor.
Hermione watched him go, anger licking at her with hungry flames. Who did he think he was, to almost kiss her and then not bother staying for lunch? Fine. She didn't need him. Eating alone was perfectly fine. It wasn't as if she liked listening to Draco's jokes or watching for the small smiles that would flit across his face when she laughed at something he said. He was probably out meeting another girl and giving her peppermints, kissing her as snow landed softly on the ground.
She pulled out her lunch container and yanked it open with a bit more aggressiveness than was needed, then proceeded to viciously stab a piece of chicken with her fork while imagining that it was Draco's head. Hermione didn't feel any better after that. Maybe she did like Draco Malfoy, just a little bit.
YOU ARE READING
Found | Dramione
Fanfiction[✓] ❝ Draco Malfoy tasted like the tears of a fallen angel and granted wishes, like dangerous promises and exquisite poison, like sweet nectar and the whispers of sweet nothings ❞ Two years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and Hermione are assign...
