Ten out of Ten by Morriganmercy

Day 8

- NOT MY STORY! All credit goes to @morriganmercy on a03!

TW: discussion of hypothetical sexual assault including the word r*pe (nothing detailed)

Hermione woke early on the eighth day. She spent several minutes flipping through the hangers in her wardrobe, looking for her favourite fitted blouse. Once it was located, she took a bit of time to put on some makeup. Not for any particular reason; it just felt like a makeup sort of day.

Though Malfoy's closed door was in no way a reliable indicator of his presence inside the room, she still stepped over the creaky spot on the landing in case he was asleep. She padded quietly down the stairs, and her lips pulled into a soft smile as she eyed the chalkboard she had updated before bed the previous night.

4

She debated for a moment on what to have for breakfast but eventually decided on cereal again. She was standing at the counter, halfway through peeling a banana to slice on top, when she heard Malfoy on the stairs. A little thrill of excitement rippled through her, and she tried desperately to rationalize it in the few seconds before he appeared.

Any progress she made, however, was immediately obliterated at the sight of him. He was shirtless again, because apparently that was a thing now, and in grey sweatpants this time.

Hermione tried her best to give him a casual smile. "Good morning."

He returned the smile as he approached, and she looked back down at the fruit in her hands as he passed behind her.

Except that he didn't. He stopped behind her and braced his hands on the counter, bracketing her between his arms. She sucked in a breath as he leaned forward, pressing flush against her back. The heat of his bare skin enveloped her, and she dropped the banana as he kept pushing further, and further, until the granite edge dug into her hips with the force of him behind her. Her breath hitched as his hands swept underneath hers, smoothing up over her stomach.

"Good morning, honey," he murmured against her ear.

"D-Don't call me that," she breathed, her palms sliding flat against the cool surface of the counter.

He gave a disappointed hum as one hand came up to gather the hair away from her neck. "That's the fifth one you've shot down," he said with his lips against her skin. "I'm running out of things to call you."

"There's always my name," she reminded him.

"Hermione?" he purred.

Her eyelids fluttered shut. "The other one."

"Malfoy? Could get confusing."

"Gods, you're—"

Infuriating was what she had meant to say. But what came out was more of a strangled sigh as his fingers caught the hem of her blouse and slid beneath it. She melted against him as his hands teased across the band of her jeans, over her belly button, along the bottom of her ribs.

"Don't worry," he said, pressing a kiss just below her ear, "I still have a few more to try."

And then he was gone. As quickly as he came, he left her sagging against the counter with shaky arms and shockingly damp knickers.

Before he left the room, however, he stopped at the chalkboard to update their progress. As she watched him change the 4 to a 5 she couldn't believe how well things were going.

That really should have been her first clue that it was all about to fall apart.

***