Hermione and Draco, a Forbidden Fantasy (Dramione) - Completed

What is this I feel?

Hermione woke up the next morning still feeling drunk from the deeds of the night before. It was as if his hands never left her body, it was a feeling she wished would never go away. She checked her watch and saw that breakfast was due to be starting soon. She pulled on her jeans and a t-shirt and brushed her hair. She selected her most sensational perfume, Vex Baysoon, a floral and fruity scent that she adored; though this time she didn’t use it for her own enjoyment. She headed down to the great hall, it seemed so empty without the majority of its students. As she flounced to the Gryffindor table she felt as though she could have been a student at Beaxbatons, she felt so full of grace. She told herself that she wouldn’t but she couldn’t help looking over to the Slytherin table. As soon as her eyes hit the table she felt herself grow heavy. Draco was sitting at the end of the bench with an over exuberant Pansy Parkinson hanging herself from him, and he didn’t seem to mind, in fact he seemed to enjoy it. She was standing behind him with her arms draped over his shoulders and stroking his chest, her lips whispering into his ears, his mouth curling into a satisfied grin every time she did so. Hermione suddenly felt embarrassed, she threw her head down and walked to her table, her appetite no longer in function. How stupid could she be? To think that Draco could be interested in her and only her when he had someone like Pansy readily available at his beck and call. Last night must have been a mere ploy to get out of her what he wanted, she thought. But why then did he leave? Her head was spinning and she wished that he had never said two words to her.

She heard the mail run starting and looked up to see Errol flying towards her, he misjudged his landing of course and skidded off the table a metre from her plate. He soon hopped back up and turned to allow her to untie the letters from his leg. One was from Harry, the other from Ginny. She opened Ginny’s letter first.

Hermione,

I hope all is well at Hogwarts, I had hoped you were coming back this Christmas, my mother was quite disappointed. I expect she’ll knit you something and have it sent over. I still wish you and Ron could have worked things out, I’m pretty sure he feels that way too, mainly because he doesn’t want it to be awkward I think, you know what he’s like. It’s hard having Harry here …

She began to talk in depth about why it was hard for her to sit across from Harry at the dinner table and how Molly was trying to force words out of their mouths. Hermione expected nothing less from her, though she expected that it would be a way for her to avoid talking about Fred. Hermione found that her throat became dry and that she had to take deep breaths when she thought of him. The wounds were still very fresh. The battle changed a lot of people and some of them were still coping with the scars as if they were fresh incisions, unable to be sutured, with individual grains of salt being scattered into them.

Hermione sighed, she did feel guilty about the way things ended with Ron, it had been weeks of silence, days without contact. After a while she realised that she didn’t love him in the way that she thought she had. He was her best friend, for seven years. You would think that a friendship like that would make for a perfect relationship, maybe they just waited too long. She did love him, but as her friend, nothing more. Now it was just awkward between them.

She opened Harry’s letter and began to read.