True Slytherin Intentions

"Mudblood," Malfoy whispered purposely bashing his shoulder into Hermiones as she walked past. His voice was teasing yet harsh, but something was different this time compared to all the other times he'd spat it at her. It was like this time . . . he needed to say it; he needed to prove to himself he was still . . . well . . .him? "You shouldn't have made such an effort-" "Oh please, get over yourself Malfoy." She muttered, spinning around in her black velvet pumps to face him. Mayfloys eyes widened as he took in her appearance. The dress clung to her chest, falling loosely past her waist. Simple but yet every curve she'd grown into over the years were on display, the blood-red silk fabric brought out the slight hazel whisps in her dark brown eyes and her hair falling in curled waves around her shoulders. Everything about her looked so different. Not just her body but the way she carried herself, the way her eyes flinched ever so slightly in the light and her hair now always clipped back at the top to keep the long curled locks of chocolate from hovering across her face. She shifted uncomfortably, her glass gently moving from one hand to the other as she waited for Malfoy to speak only to feel his eyes drinking her in. Mentally slapping himself, Malfoy shook his head, cursing himself for that human weakness. What would his father say if he was still here? "Weasley must be having fun with you." He smirked, and Hermione narrowed her eyes thanking Merlin she didn't have her wand otherwise this little peace treaty dinner would go right to hell! "You are a filthy rotten ferret Malfoy!" She harshly spat praying Harry and Ron would arrive soon, but deep down she had that sinking feeling that Mrs Weasley wouldn't be showing up to keep Ron in check. Nor would Neville. She couldn't blame them. "Did you not learn anything? Isn't there a part of you that feels . . . anything? You're absolutely disgusting." "That's what they all say," he muttered, looking down at the ground, his cold grey eyes closing slightly as he ran a hand through his unkempt shaggy blonde hair. Malfoy barely remembers running a comb through it let alone the last time he reached for the gell jar. It now almost created a perfect curtain around his eyes, the ideal wall to block the world out when he wants. Although for the sake of keeping his mother off his back, he made an effort to maintain the close shave underneath and at the back giving him at least some sort of 'class' about him as his mother would say. "Well, believe me, none of us want to be around you either," she added before her eyes dropped to the dark, almost black carpet. "But your mother helped Harry. She helped us win. We-" "My mother doesn't need your filthy pity!" he snapped, his voice on the edge of yelling but he held back, the strain clear. It was taking so much effort for him to change, to hold back the parts of himself he knew were damaged. The components of him that were wrong and broken by his father. "I choose to differ. She has you for a son, doesn't she?" Malfoys cold eyes narrowed themselves again at Hermione; his pale hands clenched into fists as he fought the urge to reach for his wand and spit a hex on her. They both stood glaring at each other their fists clenched and both unaware of how much they shared in common. "You must value yourself highly," Malfoy whispered through gritted teeth. "Yes, I do." "You think you're better than me?" The outrage in Malfoys voice almost caused Hermione to laugh, but she simply snorted it away. "Please, we all know I am. I'm a better person and a stronger witch." "You have no idea what strong is even if it bit you in the ass." His British accent was getting stronger and stronger the longer he got madder and Hermione was growing impatient with his company. "I could prove it to you in a second," she should have fallen out of that habit from a young age but since the war ended and she had nothing to fear Hermione felt as if she could finally sit back and enjoy life and doing stupid, pathetic little things like this helped. Anything to just live for just a second, anything to have the normalcy she so craved during her last few years at Hogwarts. She couldn't count the number of times she'd sat staring at nothing wondering what it would be like if Voldemort didn't exist if Hogwarts wasn't at war. What would it be like to be like the other girls at Hogwarts? Finding themselves, their voices . . . understanding their bodies . . . "Very well. Follow me." Malfoy turned his back to a confused Hermione as he stormed upstairs. Following, Hermione summoned her wand and held it tightly in her hand in case he planned anything other than what she could handle normally. She walked down the long halls, finally stopping outside a rather odd-looking room. The bed was large for two, the shelves filled with books and clothes put away tidily in coloured sections. A few photos lingered around, and she was somewhat surprised at how bare, and clean Malfoys room was. Ron's was never like this, and she'd found herself in there a few times this past summer. Blushing instantly as the thought crept across her mind, she quickly snapped her mind back as she watched Malfoy pull a board from under his bed. Wait . . . Malfoy had asked Hermione up to his room? The shock was evident on her face as she looked at him as if he was ill or maybe even possessed. But ignoring her minds warnings, Hermione walked in and stood tapping her foot down on the ground. Malfoy looked up at her, annoyed, "Well sit down then!" She groaned and slowly fell to her knees, tucking her dress in as she leaned back. "What on earth are we doing up here?" she asked nervously. She wasn't used to this; in fact, she wasn't used to the different parts of Malfoy he was suddenly showing even if at times he didn't seem different. "My mother gave me this, said I should get used to the muggle world. It's a game . . . based on courage, I think? It all seems rather boring, so we'll use some magic." Hermione stared down at the box, reading the Dare word clear. "Why would I play dare with you?" "Because you want to prove your a better person and a stronger witch and I have nothing better to do than prove a mudblood wrong." "Stop calling me that," she warned still not understanding fully how this was supposed to prove anything. Malfoy chuckled as he pulled the box towards them and shuffled the cards. "Would you like to go first?" Hermione thought long and hard. Should she even play? But her new outlook on life was 'just go for it', and so she nodded not seeing the harm Malfoy could do. He hadn't hurt anyone lately . . . besides his choice in vocabulary . . . he was harmless. "I can't believe I'm doing this." She muttered and watched as Malfoy placed the cards down and tapped them twice with his wand. She dreaded the dare she'd get and watched as the cards danced around the room until one finally fell gently into her lap. She pulled it over and looked down, reading and rolling her eyes. She stood to her feet. Malfoy closely watched waiting for her to leave and prove he was right all along but to his dismay she suddenly started dancing around the room . . . in a rather pathetic manner while making chicken noises as she bobbed her head back and forth. He fought to keep the laughter in and his face serious as Hermione stopped, her cheeks bright red as she threw the card at him. "Done." She hated the fact she'd just made a fool of herself in front of Draco Malfoy none the less. Still, the idea of winning and boredom was enough to keep her going, looking over at Malfoy chuckling behind the strand of loose hair hovering over his eyes had something pulling at the corner of her lips. She'd never seen him laugh unless it was at her or her friends' misery. In fact, she hadn't seen him laugh in a couple of years. Malfoy stood waiting as a card fell to his hands. His eyes were suddenly widening when he read it, and his face turned even paler if that were possible. He looked up at Hermione, and she looked back. "What? What is it?" "No. I'm not doing that!" He growled, throwing the card to the floor. Hermione rushed over and picked the card up, her cheeks burning redder than a tomato as she read it. Quickly slapping the card down, Hermione looked off at the wall trying to change the subject only to pick perhaps the worst one. "So I guess I win." "You want me to do that?" "I-I never said that!" Hermione was shuttering confused as she held the card. This new out lit in life may have made her life fun and more bubbly but was starting to bite her in the ass. Malfoy watched as she continued to turn a hundred different shades of red and realised . . . what was the harm? He couldn't let her go thinking she'd won and no one was to know . . . who knows . . . maybe it might even help him. "I don't lose," he breathed, gritting his teeth and rushed towards Hermione before she could say anything or move away. His pale hand cupped her cheek, and her eyes widened as he suddenly pressed his cold lips to her warm ones. It was supposed to be only for a second, but the minute his lips touched hers, they burned. Hermione's heart raced bashing against her chest; her breath knocked from her lungs as her hands flew straight to his chest ready to push him away . . . but her mind blurred the instant they landed. Malfoy was ready to pull away, he knew he could now but before he did the sensation of electricity buzzing from his lips heightened as he felt her lips move against his, her hands a light breeze against his chest. She kept trying to think of ways to get out of it, but the only thought that glued to her mind was how soft his lips were. She felt disgusted at how she reacted to him, how her body betrayed her against Malfoy but it didn't stop her knee's going weak as Malfoy's tongue traced her bottom lip asking for entrance, a moan escaping his as she granted him. Suddenly a knock from the door downstairs brought their lips to a halt. Their eyes shot open, staring at each other in confusion before flying away from each other a second later. Hermione was falling against the wall and Malfoy rushing to the other end of the room in shock. "I-" Hermione didn't know what to say; she no longer cared to say anything as she looked up at a smirking Malfoy. "Looks like you Miss Granger have other intentions." Hermione quickly ran from the room where Malfoy stood, his mind comforting him that it was all a dare. Harry and Ron had finally arrived, and the whole time Hermione made sure she kept clear of him until it was finally time to leave. As the wind blew against Hermione, she wrapped her arms around herself, Ron wrapping his around her also as she smiled thankfully for the extra heat. She couldn't help but glance back over her shoulders, waiting for Ron to summon their rides. Her lips were tingling at the memory of Malfoys lips against her, the gentleness she never knew he could possess. As she stared up at the new Malfoy manor, she could swear she saw a flicker of blonde hair rushing from the window. School would start again; this was their last chance to have a typical year, to have some kind of normal experience for once. But at this point, Hermione wasn't too sure what kind of experiences she was after exactly. . . But one thing was for sure, every part of Hermione Granger told her this would be one hell of a year.