Redemption.

Chapter 14

Hermione was exhausted as she entered the Head's common room. Her feet were sore from wearing those ridiculous stilettos, and her back ached from all the dancing. She felt slightly giddy when she recounted the events of the evening. Despite the severe pain in her shoulders and feet, she had enjoyed herself immensely. She collapsed on the couch near the fire, and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth that spread through her from the flames. She could really use a massage right now...

Just as the thought had formed in her mind, strong, firm yet gentle hands grasped her shoulders and squeezed lightly with just the right amount of pressure. Hermione's eyes shot open and she was almost panicking when she heard his familiar voice.

"Shh, Granger. Just relax." The calm of his voice and the heat of the fire made her relaxed and she enjoyed the massage he gave, rubbing on her sensitive backbone, and applying pressure on her stiff muscles.

"You have skilled hands." She commented. He didn't reply. She looked up at him, over her shoulders and found he was looking at her intently.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing." he said looking away and continued his masterful administrations.

There was silence, in which Hermione wondered what he was thinking about. She smiled when she remembered his expression when she'd come to the Great Hall. He had looked ready to pass out. She giggled.

"Why are you laughing, Granger?" he asked.

"Nothing." she said, giggling even more madly.

"Well it can't be nothing." he said, and Hermione sensed the scowl behind his words. He walked around and sat opposite her.

"I wanted more." she huffed.

"Of what?" he asked teasingly, crossing his hands across his chest. Hermione tried to rid her mind of the thought of how sexy he looked, sitting there...

"Never mind."

Silence.

"Granger." he said abruptly. She looked up and again saw that he was looking at her with an inscrutable expression on his face. 

"What do you do at night, Granger?"

Hermione stilled. Her mouth had gone dry. No. No no no no no no...this CANNOT be happening. Hermione tried to clear her mind. Was it possible that her 'sessions' hadn't gone unnoticed or unheard by the Slytherin Prince? Had she been too loud? Hermione wanted to fan her face as the heat rose to her cheeks, but she couldn't as he was sitting right in front her.

"Uh...sleep?" she said, trying to sound nonchalant. She cursed herself when her voice was an octave higher than usual.

"Do you listen to...music when you sleep?" he asked, watching her. Hermione didn't notice the quirk of his lips. "Because I do. And what amazing music. Although... it's funny how it never allows me to sleep peacefully."

Hermione's heart was banging wildly, attempting to free itself from it's confines. 

"Umm, no. I usually sleep quiet." she muttered. Her mind was racing. What if he knew? What if he had told someone, and she wouldn't have another peaceful moment in her life?

"Oh, quiet?" he raised his eyebrows, skeptically.

"Why do you ask?" she laughed a strange high-pitched laugh and again failed to notice how much Malfoy was enjoying himself.

"Nothing." he said shrugging. "I just thought I kept hearing weird sounds from-"

Hermione stood up abruptly, mortified. Her face was a glowing sunset. "I'm tired." she muttered. "Good night."