High (A Harry Potter Fanfiction--Dramione)

Banter

Draco slept horribly. He had a nightmare in which a crown clad Weasley stood in the middle of the Great Hall while Granger, clad in nothing but a pink thong, blew him as the Slytherins sang "Weasley is Our King". He awoke in a terrible mood with a sick feeling in his stomach which he attributed to the fact that pathetic, impoverished, freckle-faced Weaselby enjoyed an active sex life while his own was on hiatus.

It was Sunday at least. That meant he could spend all day in the Room of Requirement. As he looked in the mirror at himself, he noticed that his left jaw was slightly bruised. He suppressed a slight grin at Granger's handiwork. He wasn't even mad about it. It's the closest he'd ever get to having the girl touch him in any capacity.

Draco showered, changed into a black Henley jumper and jeans, and made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. As much as Draco was loathe to admit it, he did prefer Muggle clothing to wizarding robes. It was much more comfortable than the somewhat Victorian style of suits and robes his parents donned, and it highlighted his assets much more effectively.

Once seated in the Great Hall, he helped himself to eggs, bacon, and strawberries and poured himself a cup of coffee. He chanced a glance over at the Gryffindor table and saw Granger sitting with the Weaselette and Thomas. He noted that Potty and the Weasel were nowhere to be found. Granger seemed focused on her oatmeal until her eyes travelled momentarily to the Slytherin table. She did a slight double-take when she realized Draco was staring at her, and boldly glared back.

Draco didn't understand why she would be angry with him! He wasn't the one who boasted about her head-giving abilities to Merlin and country. Okay, maybe he did call her a tart and make suggestive, arguably inappropriate comments about her giving him head. But she punched him and he wasn't torn up about it. That was their thing, right? He says something bastardish and she loses her temper and socks him in the face. Draco would rather transfer to Hufflepuff than admit it, but her punches fucking stung.

Refusing to back down, he smirked at her while bringing a strawberry up to his mouth, wrapping his tongue suggestively around the sweet fruit, never breaking eye contact. Granger scowled, shifting her focus back to her oatmeal. Draco could have sworn he saw her blush too.

Draco finished his breakfast and made his way to the library, having previously found a book in the Restricted Section which he thought might be of use. Sunday was the perfect day to sneak it out of the library. Not too many students around, and Madam Pinch, who was usually possessed a preternatural ability to tell when a book was being misused or misplaced, was likely to be sporting a hangover and wouldn't notice.

Draco found the book in the Restricted Section and dashed around the corner, only to come face to thigh with Granger, who, once again was standing tip toe on a stool, attempting to reach a book on the top shelf.

"Granger, we've got to stop meeting like this."

Hermione was startled at the interruption and lost her balance on the stool. Luckily, Draco's Seeker reflexes were finely honed, and he was able to catch her around the waist before she fell. Hermione didn't seem to realize immediately what had happened. She looked up and found herself gazing into the pewter eyes of one Draco Malfoy, Git Extraordinaire.

Draco didn't even think about catching Granger...it just happened on instinct. As did the entirety of his interactions and feelings about Granger. As he looked down into those large, amber eyes, the eyes of the girl who hated him but who had still found herself impossibly in his arms, and he felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Merlin, she's beautiful. Her body felt warm and soft under his hands. He didn't realize it, but he had tightened his grip on her.