Spellbound (Dramione Smut Story)

Chapter Five

Draco

I struggled to keep my face calm and my body from shaking as I slammed the door shut behind Hermione. It took me several moments to realize that I was leaning against the door heavily, and that Hermione was glaring at me, arms crossed, and angrily flushing. The last time I had seen her this mad, I had been in school. I avoided her gaze as I removed myself from the door, instinctively covering my nose, playing it off as an itch. I turned and began to pack up my makeup, her gaze burning holes into my back.

"Who are you?" She asked. Her voice was quiet, but her tone was meaner than a snake. I resisted the urge to flinch as her fangs cut deep.

"The same person I told you I was two months ago," I muttered, my back still turned to her.

Hermione didn't hesitate to answer. "That's a lie," she said venomously. "Just like the rest of our relationship has been. How many of your little toys know you by your real name?"

I snapped the lid of my silver glitter shut with too much force, snapping off a plastic piece of the corner. "Only the exes," I answered calmly, moving onto my eye makeup.

"After you're finished playing them?" Hermione pressed. "Is this just some big game to you? Play with the girl, get her alone, then leave her? What did your friend call it? The 'stripper's trap,' or something?"

I sighed as I purposely spilled finishing powder on my table. "I've never 'played' anyone, Hermione. I've never pulled the 'stripper's trap,' and Mick is anything but my friend. He's my competition, and a sore loser. I've still yet to sleep with anyone."

There was a single beat of silence, then my makeup flew from my hands, an invisible force sealing and organizing everything for me. My arms snapped to my sides and I was forced to turn around and look at Hermione, who's eyes were shimmering with furious tears.

"How many girls have you taken up onto the platform?" She asked. It was a simple, singular question, but her accusations cut deep.

I looked her in the eye, determined to make her see that what I was saying was true. "One," I answered firmly. "Hermione Granger, age nineteen, on the night of August 13th. Approximately an hour and twenty four minutes ago."

Hermione's face became less furious and more hopelessly miserable. "What's your real name?"

I watched sadly from a mere six inches away, unable to reach out and hold her because of her magic. "I can't tell you," I whispered.

"Why not?!" She yelled, her voice rising hysterically.

"Because, Hermione!" I yelled back. "I can't! Just like I can't take off this mask! You won't love me if I tell you, I know you won't!"

"How terrible are you?" She screeched back, tears spilling down her cheeks and onto her front. "What, did you murder your parents? Did you vandalize property? Just tell me!"

"I CAN'T!" I roared. "I'M NOT WILLING TO LOOSE YOU LIKE THAT!"

"Oh, God, Darian!"

"What?" I snapped. "You think if you leave me now I'll just tell you?"

"No, I just-"

"Then what?"

"I was so happy after tonight on the platform and-"

"Let me go," I said, trying to contain my anger.

"What?"

"Take this spell off of me, Hermione."

She flicked her wand and my entire body relaxed. She seemed worried. I stepped forward, taking her into my arms and kissing her forehead.

"I'm sorry what Mick said bothered you. I'm not being secretive to play you, I promise. I'm not leaving you as long as you don't leave me," I whispered into her hair. Her shoulders began to shudder as she silenced her sobs in my shirt. "Shhh," I stroked her hair as the sounds of her sobs reached my ears. I picked her up, sitting us both down on the sofa.

"It's alright, Hermione, you're alright. We're alright. Shhh, shh shhh," I rocked back and forth, but Hermione refused to show her face. I put a hand to her head, stroking her frizzy hair. "Hermione, please just understand that I can't. When you truly love me, I will tell you everything, I promise."

"What if you don't truly love me back?" She hiccuped from where she was hiding.

"I've loved you since before I lay eyes on you," I told her, which was true.

"How could you have loved me since before you saw me?"

"I just did, Hermione."

She sniffed from beneath my head, and I tightened my arms around her. "I think I'm going to enchant my mask."

"Why?" She asked.

"So that it will come off when you love me for me."

"But I do love you, Darian."

I pulled her closer. "I know you do," I whispered. "It'll come off when I'm ready."

She cuddled closer to my chest. "Why aren't you ready?"

"Because..." I paused. At some point, I was going to have to take off my mask. I may as well give her a hint now. "I'm too weak. I'm not strong enough to let you see."

"Darian, you're not weak."

I chuckled. "Thanks for having faith in me, love. But you have no idea who I used to be. I was the weakest of them all." I pulled back to look at her. Even with her puffy eyes and red nose she looked beautiful. I hooked a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head upward so that I could see all of her face. "You made me stronger, Hermione. You've changed me for the better. I thank you for that. These two months have been the best of my very messed up life."

I leaned down and pressed my lips gently to hers. When she pulled away, she smiled. "I intend to stay with you much longer than just two months."

I smiled, leaning in again. "I'm glad."

"Are you gonna kiss me like you did out there?" Hermione whispered.

"You'll see," was my answer. I closed my eyes, putting my lips to hers again. I pulled away and came back until she smiled, opening her mouth.

I slipped my tongue inside her mouth, exploring every inch of it. She sighed as I leaned back and bit her lip. I pulled back, her lip still between my teeth, and sucked. Hermione's breathing quickened as my hands moved down to her hips. She curled her hands upon my chest.

After about fifteen minutes of being in pure lip lock, pulled away, curling my hand into Hermione's hair, my breathing quick. "I love you," I whispered.

She kissed me once more. "I love you too."

My mask stayed on. I wasn't ready.