Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Hermione, Draco
Prompt: #038: Raw
Word Count: 355
Prompt Table Here.
Summary: Hermione reflects on how he makes her feel.
Warnings: This is completely for my own entertainment and I don't accept refunds.
Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.
His warmth was the only thing that left her feeling cold inside. It was there when she needed it most, but it always left before she could feel anything at all. Sometimes she'd pretend it was just because he didn't feel anything at all..
But she knew he did.
She could hear the sounds when her lips would drag themselves over his stomach, feel him breathe heavily on her skin when she'd touch him in just the right place. She could see the passion that glazed over his eyes when she exposed herself to him.
It always happened during the evening, usually when she'd be walking back from the library by herself, Ron and Harry too bored to stay there much longer than they had to. She'd cross him in the hall, and he'd watch her out of the corner of his eye.
In a moment, he'd push her into a quiet, dark corner, his hand would go over her mouth because she never was a quiet one for the taking. His other hand roamed quickly, but effortlessly, and he would take her right there. But he never took his time, ever. It would all happen in minutes, sometimes he wouldn't bother with much more than groping or leaving a mark on her.
In those moments, sometimes he'd like her to take the initiative. He'd want her to make him feel good, in any way she wanted to. But he hated it when she was too soft, when she took her time, and he let her know.
It all started the night that Ron made her upset, with his little trysts with Lavender in attempts to make her jealous. Those nights hurt her the most, and when she ran out of the common rooms after seeing the two together intimately, she had ran right into Draco, who seemed to be in a similar bad mood.
In a flurry of movements, they argued, kissed, clawed, groped, and broke apart, and distanced themselves from each other. Since then, they'd share quiet stares and misplaced passion, but it didn't make them feel better.
But it made them feel.