The Jock and the Swot

Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks to AlbinoPeacock for posting the plunny for this story. Thanks to Fae Orabel for betaing this story! All other mistakes are mine. If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff. See the gorgeous manip that Klawdee890 made for this story on Tumblr!

And major thank you to all my readers for reading, whether you reviewed or not!

I can't guarantee an update next Monday as the new baby arrives at the end of this week, but I will try to update as soon as I can (either next week or the week after).

Enjoy!

~0o0~

The following Sunday found Hermione returning to the Gryffindor common room earlier than she typically liked, but again, the weather was too nice, the lure of sitting out under the sun was too much for her to ignore. Scottish winters were harsh and tended to last far into the spring. As a London girl, she was always ready for the warm weather much earlier than it ever appeared at Hogwarts. Dinner wasn't for another two hours, which meant there was plenty of time to pull the boys away from whatever they were doing and soak up some sunshine.

She had just passed through the Transfiguration corridor when a door opened beside her and a hand clasped around her upper arm, pulling her inside an abandoned classroom. As soon as she gained her feet, she whirled around to find Rowle smirking down at her.

"Listen, Rowle," Hermione began, pointing a finger at him, her brows pulled down into a frown. "I'm not some plaything you can just yank around. I'm a human being. If you want to speak with me, kindly do so without touching my person. Frankly, that hurt," she said, rubbing her arm where he had grabbed her.

"Sorry," Rowle muttered, he reached out and rubbed it over her arm where he had grabbed her. "I won't give you any more bruises unless you ask for them," he leered, wiggling his eyebrows.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and contemplated a response before rolling her eyes and turning to leave. If he wanted to act like a caveman, he could do it without her. She had better things to do. Like, go sit in the sun.

"Hey, wait!" Rowle rushed up behind her and reached over her shoulder, slamming the door closed before she could go through it. She could feel him towering over her from behind. "I thought we could have a little more fun," he said, his voice a low grumble that did things to Hermione's body that she didn't want to think about. Desire pooled in her belly, but she did her best to ignore it.

She was immediately suspicious of his motives and turned around to face him. Still frowning she looked up at him, his blue eyes were dancing with delight as he crowded her against the door at her back. She had a feeling he liked crowding her like this. More of that macho, caveman sentiment. She tried to ignore how much she also liked it. Nothing good would come out of a continued association with Rowle. She should definitely not be getting her hopes up.

"Why? Is there a bet or something?" That was the only thing Hermione could think of that would make Rowle want to sleep with her again. He was definitely the hit it and quit it type, so what in the world was going on?

"No? Why would there be a bet?" Rowle asked, confusion written across his face. He leaned a hand on the door above her head, and Hermione tried not to think about how firm his chest was. She failed spectacularly as it was right in front of her. As much as she didn't want to meet his eyes, she couldn't keep staring at his chest either. That was only going to lead her down a path she promised herself she wouldn't be pursuing.

"Gossip says you aren't interested in having a girl more than once. It's been twice. Logic dictates that if you're still interested there must be something else going on. If it's not a bet, then what?" Hermione asked. She tried to direct her eyes up to him, but as he shifted his weight, the muscles across his shoulders rippled and she found she couldn't take her eyes off of them.