Determination of a Slytherin

Draco sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He had tossed and turned all night, eventually falling into an uneasy sleep in the early hours of the morning. It was now passed eleven o’clock and the harsh light of day was streaming through the curtains he had forgotten to shut the night before.

Groaning, he heaved himself out of bed and unlocked the doors of the balcony, hoping the fresh air would clear his head.

To his surprise, he found his eagle owl roosting on the railing, its head tucked under its wing. There was a letter tied neatly to its leg. It had obviously tried to get in and found the doors locked, so it had decided to sleep.

Careful not to wake the owl, he untied the note with trepidation, wondering what Grangers response would be. He hesitated, and then forced himself to open it.

Can we talk?
H.

He smirked to himself. Perhaps presents worked better than he thought.


*   *   *


Hermione was restless, pacing the house with an almost frenetic energy. She had scarcely slept the night before, wondering how she had got herself into this situation and rehearsing what she would say to Malfoy, thinking up possible scenarios for his responses.

She had sent his owl back to him early this morning, once her parents had left for work, but she hadn’t got a reply yet. Both of them had commented that she seemed tense and preoccupied, but fortunately neither of them had pressed the matter.

She wandered into the kitchen and started to half-heartedly make a cup of tea to calm herself down.

“Good morning,” a familiar drawling voice startled her, just as she was pouring the hot water into the teacup.

She gasped as the scalding water cascaded over her hand – and an instant later she was standing at the sink, her fingers being run under cold water.

Malfoy was standing behind her, holding her hand beneath the tap. She half turned to face him, but the front of his body was pressed against her back, pinning her to the sink.

“Sorry,” he murmured in her ear. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Did you let yourself in?” she demanded, trying to ignore the way his long fingers moved over hers, soothing the reddened skin.

“I landed in the back garden,” he told her casually. “The patio door was open and I saw you in here, so yes, I let myself in.”

She couldn’t be bothered to chastise him, knowing he wouldn’t care and would probably just do it again anyway, so instead she pulled her fingers from the icy stream to examine them. They didn’t hurt much anymore, they just felt numb.

Turning around properly, she found herself face to face with Malfoy. He had braced his hands on the sink on either side of her, caging her in. His eyes were bright, piercing grey without a hint of black in them yet and his platinum hair was windblown. It would look odd, she thought, when she saw him with his hair in his usual aristocratic style once they got back to school, instead of being all tousled and falling over his brilliant eyes.

Nervous from their closeness, she broke eye contact with him and glanced around the kitchen. Her gaze landed on the shiny red i-Pod, which she had left on the counter. She had been carrying it around the house with her, wanting to hold it as much as possible before she gave it back to him.

He followed her gaze and smirked. “Like it?”

“Yes, and thank you,” she said, swallowing. “But I, umm … I can’t accept it.”

“And why not?” he frowned.

“Because I don’t understand why you gave it to me,” she said agitatedly.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean, I don’t understand!” she exclaimed. “I can understand Barrufio’s theory of advanced Charms and I can understand all of the factors behind the 1712 Goblin Rebellion, but I simply cannot understand you -”

Malfoy silenced her with a finger over her mouth.

She stared up at him, he met her gaze steadily and he slowly leaned forward. Her eyes drifted shut as he gently pressed his cool lips to hers in a soft kiss.

“Malfoy -”

“Shh,” he murmured, his hands now cupping her face as he deepened the kiss. Helpless, she simply allowed him to kiss her, making no move to respond. How did he make her feel like this with such a small, simple touch?

He pulled back slightly, letting his fingers trail down her neck to rest on her shoulders, sending shivers through her body. His mouth followed the path of his fingers, lightly kissing the skin on her throat until she gasped and squirmed against the sink.

This was wrong. She knew it was wrong, yet her body still responded to him.

Forcing her mind above her body, she moved her hands to his chest, about to push him away - but his fingers captured her own, keeping them still.

“Don’t analyse it, Granger. Just let yourself feel it.”

He released her fingers and she felt his arms snake around her waist, drawing her closer to him.

“I feel … I feel …”

“Yes?” he breathed against the sensitive hollow just below her ear.

She knew she had to talk to him about something important, she had to ask him something, but he distracted her by biting gently on her ear lobe.

What was the point in fighting it, really? She wondered.

Bringing her hands up to his hair, she tilted his head and met his mouth with her own. He made a startled noise and moved to kiss her back with equal passion, pressing her body to the sink behind her.

Talk could come later, she thought. She sighed into his mouth and, for now, simply let herself kiss him.


*   *   *


“Wait, wait,” she said, pulling away eventually, gasping for breath.

Draco’s breathing was uneven too. “What’s wrong?”

“I needed to talk to you,” she said, disentangling her arms from around his neck.

“What about?”

She bit her lip, distracting him momentarily. Her lips were a deep red from the pressure of his own and her cheeks were flushed an endearing pink to match.

“I need to know, what did you mean when you said ‘Can’t you see what’s going on here?’” she asked, meeting his eyes with her own cautious brown ones.

“I meant … I meant couldn’t you see that I was starting to like you.” It was the truth, but it was also a lie – he knew she wasn’t ready to hear that she was his Mate.

She lowered her eyes nervously. “It’s just – well – you also said … ‘How did I get stuck with you’ …”

He didn’t reply.

“I have to point out that your, um, affection has come on fairly suddenly,” she said, now positively babbling her words in an effort to say them as quickly as possible. “And you’re getting closer and closer to your seventeenth birthday and I know this is going to sound ridiculous but I can’t help but wonder …”

“Yes?” he asked as the silence became unbearable.

She raised her eyes to his again, and they were full of a mixture of fear, hope, uncertainty and weariness.

“Am I your Mate?”

He closed his eyes as if her soft-as-ash voice had been a blow. If he told her the truth then what would she think … but if he told her no he risked loosing her trust forever.

Sighing, he met her gaze again, knowing that he really only had one choice if he wanted to have any sort of relationship with her.

“Yes,” he replied.

Her eyes tightened, but she held his stare. “Do I have a choice in all of this?” she asked.

“We always have choices,” he replied dully. Of course she wouldn’t want to choose to be with him.

“So I could just … opt out?” she said, her expression lightening slightly.

He nodded reluctantly. There was no way he could force her to be his Mate, despite the consequences to him if she rejected him.

She seemed to read something of his thoughts in his face. “Will anything happen to you if I do?”

He tried to smirk. “Are you thinking of the romance novels witches read where a Veela will die of heartbreak without its Mate?” he asked, drawling his words.

She shrugged, a slight blush staining her cheeks.

“Well well,” he said, arching an eyebrow. “Who knew Miss Granger read such torrid books? I guess Hogwarts: A History isn’t quite the same for helping you stay warm in the night -”

“Malfoy,” she interrupted, her face bleak. She didn’t like him joking about this.

“No Granger,” he said, finally answering her question. “Nothing will happen to me.”

It was a lie – true, he wasn’t going to die of heartbreak like they did in the sappy novels, but he wouldn’t exactly be skipping around whistling show tunes either. Not that he had done that before.

She nodded slowly, and then tried to smile.

“Look, I’m going to need some time to think, to sort this all out in my head,” she said.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked.

She hesitated, and then nodded again.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” he couldn’t help asking.

She smiled properly. “Sure, you can come for brunch if you want.”

He grinned at her, “I’ll go then.”

She walked him to the door, opening it politely for him as if she were simply seeing him out and he hadn’t just told her that she was his one Veela Mate. “I guess I will see you tomorrow.”

“Granger?” he said, turning at the door. “Its only fair to warn you, I may be a Veela, but I am also a Slytherin.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, frowning.

“It means that I am selfish, cunning and resourceful,” he told her, staring straight into her fathomless brown eyes. “I am also determined to make you mine.”