Lust, War, and... Love?

Chapter 14: Change of Plans

       Sounds of Draco's steps bounced off the vaulted ceilings as he descended the stairs to the kitchens. His desire was growing in anticipation of Hermione's warm body. He was going to get straight to business before Granger would have time to start rehashing her issues. She was so much prettier when he kept her busy shagging and didn't let her talk too much.

The corridors grew darker. He was entering the parts of the castle travelled exclusively by house-elves and ghosts. They never cared about the lack of proper lighting. Suddenly, a figure detached itself from the wall and stood in his way. Draco halted in his tracks.

"I knew it!" Pansy's shrill voice pierced Draco's ears. "You're sneaking off here again!"

"So?" Draco was on the verge of punching her in the face but he restrained himself.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm going for a bite," he scoffed. "No one has prohibited the students from visiting the kitchens yet."

"I know what kind of snack you're having here!" Pansy advanced at him. Draco could see her mouth twitching in the dim light. "I think I've just seen the girl you're noshing with." She laughed mirthlessly.

"Oh? What's her name, Pansy?" Draco planted his hands on her bosom. "Merlin, you're so soft and sweet. Say hello for me to that girl if you see her, okay?"

Pansy paused, apparently taken aback a little. Draco squeezed her lightly, then ran his hands down her sides. "You're beautiful in this light, Pansy. Your eyes, your lips..." he drawled on, praying that she wouldn't pounce on him and force him into lovemaking.

"Ahem..." Pansy's brain was apparently busy processing her fiancé's response. Then, without as much as a word she pressed herself against him and her lips reached for his.

"I love you with all my heart, Pansy. You're my only one..." Draco whispered huskily and planted a guarded kiss on her lips. It was very much like hypnotizing a cobra with gentle sounds of a fakir's flute.

Pansy's lips and tongue splayed all over his mouth, which almost made him cringe. His fiancée was never too sophisticated at snogging. Worse even, he felt her hand creeping under his robes. He had to do something before the torrid visions of Granger overwhelmed him.

"I'm starving, sweetie..." Draco caught her wandering hand and brought it to his face, effectively disengaging his mouth from Pansy's. His lips touching the back of her palm, he murmured, "What kind of muffins do you want me to get from the kitchens, Pansy? Cinnamon or blueberry?" He was certain he looked like a mushy hero from soppy romance novels. The kind of books that he had noticed in some girls' hands, including Pansy's. But it worked. His fiancee's hand relaxed considerably, and he was able to detach himself from her eager body.

"Let's go and get the muffins. Then back to the Common Room, okay?" He walked around her towards the kitchens.

She caught his arm. "Let's cuddle somewhere in here, Draco..."

"I'm not freezing myself to death here!" Draco raised his voice a little. Pansy got the hint and scurried after him.

Hermione was sitting on a chair she had conjured from a part of the desk wreckage and leafing through The Magical Joys of Kama Sutradistractedly. Two muffins were set on the former desktop. Cinnamon and apple muffins, the kind that Malfoy liked. It was her favourite too, something on which both of them agreed. Not that there were many things that they were in accord on.

She mulled over her conversation with Ginny. The wizarding world was still largely foreign to her, no matter how many books she read about it. At the same time, Hermione was an oddity in her parents' Muggle universe. Many Muggleborn students still preserved their ties to their non-wizarding origins. Muggle siblings, friends, and even plans to return to the Muggle sphere after Hogwarts. Hermione had none of that. Worse even, she frequently was bored with the Muggleborns because they were much less versed in all things magical than her. Hermione loved magic, and her inquisitive mind rejoiced in discovering new realms of it. It was very much of a solitary pleasure for her, because she often was awkward with the students of wizard ancestry, who absorbed the magical lore from the early age. Her Muggle notions and lack of ingrained sense of wizarding subtleties kept getting in her way all the time. Where did she belong, after all? Where ought she go after graduating from Hogwarts?

Hermione sought her refuge from the tormenting questions in her closest friends. She was much more at ease with Harry because he was on par with her talent wise. He came from the Muggle world too, but wasn't too attached to it either. She cleaved to the Weasleys because the old wizarding family accepted her wholeheartedly and didn't mind her Muggle differences.

Draco Malfoy... He was her closest glimpse of something that was apparently considered as one of the most powerful pureblood Houses. Hermione detested the Malfoys' depraved morals but she also was drawn to the great magical lore they purportedly possessed and which was beyond reach for many ordinary wizards and witches. Hermione and Draco both were competitive and kept watch on each other's successes and failures from their first year at Hogwarts. It was one of her innermost secrets, not known even to her best friends. Unlike Harry or Ron, she did not want to fight Malfoy. She longed to excel over him, to prove herself by being a superior magician, and to make him and other purebloods accept her as an equal or even more than that. Was such a thing ever possible?

Hermione glanced at her watch. Malfoy was running very late. Irked, she pulled out the enchanted parchment and shot off a note. Where are you? HG.

An eternity had passed but no answer arrived from the wretched Malfoy whatsoever. Hermione was now seething with anger. It was almost dinnertime. He stood her up, and her plans for the evening bombed. Hermione devoured a muffin. She picked up the other one and glared at it, as if it was Malfoy himself. Her anguish choked her, she swung her arm and hurled the pastry at a wall. It splattered over the stones and a few cinnamon-scented shreds ricocheted at her. She flung her bag over her shoulder and stomped out of the dungeon chamber.

The moment Hermione filled her plate at dinner, her enchanted parchment went off in her pocket. Hermione had charmed it to produce a sort of a mental alarm, which came on in the recipient's mind without any outwardly noticeable effects like noise or light. Cautiously, she eyed the note under the table:

Granger,
Couldn't make it there. Let's meet in the far end of the third floor corridor after dinner ASAP.
DM

When she lifted her eyes, the first thing she saw was Malfoy strolling up to the Slytherin table with Parkinson draped over his arm. Now it was clear. Draco opted to frolic with his fiancée in lieu of her. The last thing Hermione wanted to do was to be at Malfoy's beck and call. Mad with fury, she blindly pointed her wand at her parchment under the table and hissed her reply into her plate with corned beef and mashed potatoes.

DM,
I'm busy after dinner. See you at 8:30 pm in the Room of Requirement.
I hate you!