True Slytherin Intentions

Chapter 5| Regrets and Heros {Part 1}

Why hadn’t she just waited?! Hearing the water, Hermione thought she had left the shower running even though she couldn’t remember hearing it before. 

It was when she stepped around the wall and spotted Malfoy braced against the wall with one hand wrapped around himself, his eyes narrowed at her as a moan escaped his lips, that she realised what her actual mistake was. The dark whiskey grey of his eyes hidden as his face morphed into pleasure, his forehead pressing against the black marble wall, her grand entrance being just at the moment where Malfoy couldn’t turn back, couldn’t hold back his realise as his lips trembled for a mere second, his body slumped slightly against the cool tiles.

Hermione braced herself for the barrage of insults as her mind tried to comprehend what she had just witnessed. Her lips parted as she tilted her head, trying to summon the words before failing and shutting them to repeat the cycle a few times. She didn’t know how to respond, her body and mind failing her. 

She’d never once seen someone in person pleasure themselves; she hadn’t realised how erotic it could actually be until she saw the shadow of complete passion cross Malfoy’s face. For that brief moment, he looked almost vulnerable, wholly lost in the bliss that spread across him. 

Then another thought rocked Hermione and added another layer of crimson to her cheeks. 

Malloy hadn’t finished earlier; he hadn’t had his moment. Was it because of her? Had she . . . Been so revolting he couldn’t-

“Well, Granger,” Malfoy rasped, his forehead still pressed against the wall as he tilted his head to look at her. His cheeks were flushed, his voice breathless as his long eyelids fluttered with the rhythm of the gratification coursing through his veins. “It appears we can’t get enough of each other this evening. Fancy you being the one to stroll in at this precise moment.”

If he had intended it to sound snide or even the slightest bit annoyed, he failed. His lips played on the edge of a lazy grin as he rolled back against the tiles, his head now tilted back as he glanced down at her. “Come on then, aren’t you going to join me?”

Hermione had lost all sense of self at that moment. Her feet were planted firmly on the ground as her heart trashed against her chest, her mouth suddenly incredibly dry. She knew she should have ran the minute her eyes had made him out but she was frozen. Yet, even she had to admit he had a point, the actual odds were insane. 

Willing her limbs to move, Hermione forced a step back as she shook her wet locks around her face. “No, I’ve showered thank you very much.”

She felt her stomach instantly churn at how stupid she had sounded. Her voice was a strange uneven mix of shock and conviction. Her chest burst out in a small splatters of red as her arms instantly wrapped around her stomach, pressing her towel harder against her skin. 

Malfoy’s eyes moved with her and his eyes zoned in on the crumpled purple hand. One eyebrow twitched upwards as the corner of his lip curled into a confused smirk. “What happened to your hand?”

Hermione’s eyes dropped to her hand as she lifted it up lightly, his question throwing her. Why would he care? “I punched the wall.”

Her honesty surprised her, her eyes widening at how she was still standing here conversing with Malfoy after everything, after she’d intentionally punched the wall because of him. 

“So is that a fetish, punching people and things?” Hermione’s eyes jumped to him annoyance. 

“I do not punch people. I punch you because you deserve it.” She prided herself on how she held her voice steady considering the situation but took note on how difficult it was becoming to not glance down at Malfoy’s impressive member. Although, it wasn’t like she had doubted him much in that department. Not with the glowing recommendation he seemed to come with. 

Malfoy stepped towards her noticing the way his breath caught her throat and her legs shifted uncomfortably until he came to a pause a feather touch away. His breath washed across them, filling the thin space as her head tilted backwards, her lips parting in surprise and her eyes dancing between his own and his lips. 

“Why are you still pretending? Still denying yourself?” He asked, his voice a low hoarse drum as his whiskey eyes drank hers in, studying the curves of her face and the way her cheekbones were slightly more hollow than they had been last year. Her lips were paler than when he had seen her at the battle, and her skin was almost coated with a slight ashen sheet as though the trauma of his aunt was still visible in the tremble of her skin. He had thought she looked completely different back at his manor that night, thought the girl before him was a gaunt expressionless shell of her former self. Yet nothing compared to the change he noted in her face today. 

His fingers curled themselves under her chin, “Why torture yourself for wanting what you want?”

His voice curled in her ears, bouncing tenderly against every nerve as his fingers dropped to the rim of her towel. “Don’t hide behind your pride my little lion. Snakes can be-“

Something in Hermione jolted at how his words seemed to crawl at her, sinking beneath her skin and triggering every need she had spent so many years suppressing like some spell he’d suddenly cast on her. Feeling herself burn deep down, Hermione jumped away from him. For a second she was sure his eyes widen in surprise. . .in desperation. But just as it came it was hidden behind Malfoy’s famous scrawl except this time, you could see the edge of a thin line as his fiery grey eyes blazed at her. 

“Can be dangerous, poisonous- things.” Hermione managed to force out, her words unhinged. 

“And lions arrogant, bad tempered brats,” Malfoy countered, his voice clipped. “Your point is what?”

“My point is I’m leaving.” She added quickly turning on her heel before something inside her could stop her. She was never one to need to learn a lesson twice.

“Fine. Runaway like a coward.”  

“Coward?” That had caught Hermione just as her hand wrapped around the curve of the bathroom door handle. Malfoy appeared from behind the wall separating the shower as her wispy locks flew around to reveal her molten chocolate eyes. “I’m not the coward. I am not the one afraid of facing the rest of the school body after royally screwing up and helping the bad guys!”

Hermione had suddenly lost herself, her need to attack him the greatest thing in the room at that moment. She could feel her chest constrict at the way his face seemed to twitch. “How do you-“

“Isn’t that why you’re here? Because I know why I am. But you? You can barley face yourself let alone anyone else.” She felt herself snap again, her eyes a focused state of furry growling at Malfoy as they blurred with tears she refused to fall. She refused him pleasure at her pain, at the piece that was forever hers to carry that he helped put there. He never once tried to help her, tried to help any of them. “Is you, you Malfoy are the only coward here. The rest of us suffered for what was right while you cowered behind your precious little daddy-“

Malfoy’s eyes twitched, that control he’d spent so long building seemed to crumble into the air as he lashed out at her. “Don’t you dare speak of my father!”

His voice was a frogien mixture of danger and fear. One she was sure she had never heard come from him until that moment and for a split second, she felt herself twinge in regret. 

“I-it doesn’t matter.” She forced out clearing her voice, trying regain herself before anymore damage was done to either of-

“The only thing I’m a coward for, is having touched something as filithy as you-” His words cut her like razors, slicing her flesh open and leaving her to bleed out right there. The room was suddenly drained of all air, her whole being thrown into a bath of pure ice pain that she couldn’t explain, she had never felt it like that before and it showed clearly on her face. But then again, she had never let Malfoy touch her like that either. She didn’t have the energy to hide the pain, to stop her face from morphing into a shadow of what she was feeling. “Instead of facing those pathetic, stupid wankers you call friends for ruining any semblance of a life I had!”

His once pale skin had seemed to now be painted in a deep shade of red and Hermione couldn’t help but jerk away from him. She turned quickly steadying her shoulders and opened the door leaving him standing alone as his shoulders seemed to still rock with rage behind her. 

She placed a charm on the room and doors and dropped to her bed letting her legs curl under the soft blankets as her fingers tucked themselves against her aching chest. Her tears flowed quietly until the pain built too much and she couldn’t contain it. Her lips peeled apart as she let out a cry, her body racking with each sob as she let it out. 

Hermione allowed her mind to taunt her, degrade her and torture her all night, as if two complete separate entities. The pain never seeming to ease even as Hermione sat up and healed her arm. But the moment she stepped up, her sleep deprived body groaned out in protest as she began dressing herself preparing for the day. 

She took a look in the mirror. Her skin was paler than it usually was and her eyes were red and puffy, dark circles already imprinting themselves against her. Although, that never alarmed Hermione much. There wasn’t a single person that survived the war that didn’t have those scars. Those dark circles claiming their once vibrant eyes that now stay in a distant red filled void. She was sure there wouldn’t be much question over that. If she held herself together long enough, no one would think anything the wiser. 

Yet, the fact that the first night she had spent with her mind torn from the nightmares and what could have beens was because of Malfoy and what he’d said made it hurt in a far worse way than she thought it could have. A depressing truth that had her sighing and shutting her eyes, fighting the tears back. She’d spent enough tears this past year.

Giving herself one last prep talk, Hermione hurried out from her room keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the ground as to avoid any sight of Malfoy although she doubted he’d be up.

Rushing through the pathway that lead out, Hermione took one last deep breath and headed straight for the Great Hall knowing there’d be at least one other person there this early. And she was absolutely right. The minute Hermione had pushed the large heavy oak doors back, that familiar fiery red locks of hair sprawled across hunched shoulders as she flipped through the daily prophet, was sat in the exact same spot as usual. 

Ginny glanced up sensing Hermione walking up behind her and noticed immediately the shiny coat of reminiscent tears she’d tried to push back beforehand. “Good morning,”

“Morning, so what’s he done?” Ginny asked narrowing her eyes as Hermione stumbled taking her seat.

“Who?” She asked a little flustered, her palms laying flat against the wooden table. 

“My stupid brother, you look like you’ve been crying or at least trying to stop yourself from crying.”

“The usual, nightmares.” Hermione mumbled quickly, her fingers tucking a strand of lose hair back behind her ear as her eyes fled avoiding Ginnys which set her best friend off like a warning flare. Ginny green eyes narrowed at Hermione as she leaned forwards on her elbow. 

“Where were you last night? I didn’t hear you come back to the common room.”

“I- didn’t.” She responded trying to keep her voice even. “Was not in the mood for more nostalgic walks down memory lane. I went back to the safe room.” 

Hermione had to hold back the small eruption of giggles at her words, it didn’t seem much like a safe room anymore. Ginny knowingly smiled with a small nod, her accusing eyes falling back to the table and away from a guilty Hermione. 

It should have worried her more how lying to her best friend was coming so easily to her but Hermione took comfort at the fact it made her stomach churn and her skin crawl with disgust. “How about you? What has you up so early?”

Hermione thought she knew the answer, just like all the years before she had assumed it was down to her best friends natural body clock. That and the urge to catch a glimpse of the boy who lived in his most sexiest confused state, as she had admitted to Hermione on the odd occasion. Although there didn’t seem much point on the latter considering they were a couple now. But this time, Hermione noted the way Ginnys cheeks seemed to turn paler than a sheet of paper if that were possible, her freckles concealed by a subtle shade of pink that raced across her skin as her emerald eyes widened like a doe. Quickly her eyes fell to her half empty plate as her fingers weakly picked at the discarded eggs. “Luna, s-she seemed a little freaked out yesterday at dinner. I wanted to make sure she was okay. You know her, she never asks for help, always looks lost.”

“Lovegood?” Hermione blurted. “She’s a lot of things but lost? Maybe crazy-“

Ginnys heated eyes quickly turned on Hermione forcing the brunettes words to come a halt as that famous Weasley scowl slapped across her forehead. “She is not crazy! You all thought she was mad when it came to Ravenclaws Diadem and look how it basically ended up saving our lives. She lost everything helping us. People need to stop-“

“Ginny, I’m sorry!” Hermione added quickly, resting her hand on her friends arm cutting her off before she could get herself more wound up which after the war seemed to happen far too often. A lot of the times it left Harry completely confused and a little torn but they all had cut each other slack after all, most of them were left somewhat broken. “I didn’t mean to- Lunas great, I just- I was being silly. I’m sorry,”

Just as Ginnys lips peeled open, the doors of the great hall blew open and the cool wind that swept in tickling Hermione’s skin with a shiver, had her thick frizzy hair bouncing around her shoulders as her eyes darted to the entrance to the bleach blonde enemy that she had tried so hard to ignore.

His stone cold eyes were already on her, drowning her in their silvery puddles as he stood for a moment daring her to acknowledge the hatred he made bubble to the surface. But Hermione wasn’t overcome by hatred. She was overcome with disappointment in herself, she was overcome with hatred towards her own body for handing it over to Malfoy so carelessly. She was disgusted at how the moment her eyes found him again, that small voice in her mind ordered her to come to life for a second before the others could sink in. Her first thought had betrayed her. It had fuelled her mind to turn on her again. 

Forcing her eyes back to her empty plate, Hermione cleared her throat and reached for a piece of toast. 

“What was that about?” Ginny mumbled, her mind pulled from her previous heated anger. 

“Huh?” Hermione muttered as she chewed slowly, rolling the sweet crunchy bread around her mouth still feeling those ice pricks of his eyes against the side of her face.

“Malfoy,” Ginny added, nodding towards the still staring blonde prince. “Hasn’t stopped giving you the death glare. Was Mrs Malfoy’s dinner really that bad?”

“Actually no.” Hermione replied a little surprised now that she thought back to it, despite her little private meeting with Malfoy in his room, the evening had gone by without much incident like she was so sure there would be. It was all very civil and even that brought Ginny an unbelievable look. “Dinner was rather. . . Pleasant. If I’m not wrong, I think his face is just screwed that way.”

“Especially when daddies hearing is set for two weeks time,” Ginny scoffed rolling her eyes as Malfoy walked towards the large table behind them, his grey eyes burning holes through the back of Hermione’s head.

“What?”

“Yeah, Lucius Malfoy has another hearing. Apparently Draco’s the last one to speak for his father after that its kissing with the Dementors. Anyway, I’ve gotta go, said I’d meet Harry half an hour before class in the Gryffindor stands.”

Hermione couldn’t help but scrunch her nose up at her best friend. “Did not need to know that.”

“But its so juicy,” Ginny laughed with another wink as she grabbed her robes and kissed her friend goodbye.

Suddenly watching Ginny leave had Hermione's insides tightening to the point of suffocation. Just knowing he was sitting right behind her, shooting knives into her back had the blood boiling under her skin.

She didn’t waste another second before grabbing her bag and hurrying out towards the Library. Potions was her first class and since her newest little extra curricular activities ended with her books scattered all over the ground, it was exactly where she had to go. 

The sky was a light grey with the distant chipper of owls hiding the relief of her sigh as she broke out into the chilly courtyard. Looking down at her watch, Hermione couldn’t help but curse herself. Had she not been so stupid she could have spent the morning gossiping with Ron and Harry and her eyes wouldn’t be stinging from begging for a little downtime. 

But here she was, her mind a complete blur as she pushed through the library doors. She was so tired but not enough to forget the night before and all the tears that still threatened to fall if she allowed herself to dwell on her mistakes. 

The dimly lit room looked as it did the night before, completely at peace filled with the promise of knowledge. That was enough for a hint of a small smile to cross the corners of her mouth. Home. Finding the small spot she had before, Hermione let her bag drop to the floor shielded by a small cove of shadows before walking towards the narrow darkened path and large towering shelves in search of her books. 

Hermione had committed the list Slughorn had sent them to memory but as she scanned the large tombs of books with one longer slender finger dancing across the old leather spines, she couldn’t help but let the annoyance spread over her body. What was the point on insisting students bring the whole goddarn’ library with them for the first class?! Knowing Slughorn, they’d only be reading from one or two max. But it just wasn’t worth the furious stain on her report. 

“Should have known you’d be here,” the sound of that familiar, miserable voice drilled through the blissful silence causing Hermione to suck in a breath as her back erupted into warnings. “Mud blood.”

“Is that really all you’ve got Goyle?” She breathed, unimpressed even though the pain in her chest sang another story.

“Don’t you dare speak to me you filthy-“ Hermione felt him take a step towards her and spun around to see that chubby face morphed with red hot anger. His hands curled into fists as his eyes narrowed on her before dropping to her exposed legs in a wide glance. 

Hermione felt her breath catch in her lungs, her skin crawling with the urge to be covered as she backed herself into the bookcase with a sudden panic jolting through her. 

It’s fine. The librarian will hear, I’m fine.

Hermione’s little mantra did little to quell the tremble in her hands as she noticed the way Goyle seemed to be taking his time. His wet lips pulled into a tight grin, his teeth catching the low light from the candles as his eyes seemed to have darkened more. 

“I heard you were captured at the Malfoy Manor, heard Greyback had a one to one audience-“

“You heard wrong.” Hermione shot out, her voice harsh as she kept the tremble far from it. 

“Really?” The way Goyles lips seemed to pull taunt against his teeth sent a sickening realisation of what he meant down through her spine. “Should we test that?“