The November winds would almost certainly discard her to sleep on the sofa again, and she highly doubted that Malfoy would be joining her this time. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. While she was quite content to have as much distance from him as possible, the two nights that she'd slept near Draco had been her longest and most relaxing rests since Harry and Ron had left. She told herself it was simply because his company provided some level of security, but there was something hypnotic about his breaths in the night...
She paused as she came to her room, realising she was shaking slightly and her heart was rattling loudly inside her ribcage. She inhaled until it started to burn and released the air as slowly as possible, nervously flicking her fingernails and practically eating her bottom lip.
"Godric, give me strength," she mumbled, offering the curious lions her password. "Ad Lucem."
With vibrating fingers and a lost heartbeat, she pushed open her door and found the room painted in darkness. Scanning the jumble of shadows warily and finding only familiar shapes and outlines, she made her way to her small kitchenette and concluded a hot chocolate would ease some of her nerves. Assuming Malfoy was in his room and would be for the remainder of the night, she rolled her shoulders and allowed herself to relax. Silently igniting some of the candles, just to create a nice pre-slumber glow as she fixed herself the steaming drink, the witch was completely oblivious to the pair of serpentine eyes watching her every movement.
Draco observed her from the couch, missing the darkness that had shielded him before Granger had brought a little light into the room. Typical. She hadn't noticed him, which was odd because he would swear she'd looked straight at him when she'd shuffled past the door, but then maybe it had been darker than he'd thought.
Ensuring his breaths were quiet and steady, he openly stared at her back; starting at her jumbled mass of curls, and sliding down her spine to end at the feminine flare of her hips just visible under her robes. He'd intended to disturb her now; perhaps scare her and threaten her for his own amusement and to prove that his earlier slip meant nothing. That had been the plan, but yet again it simmered as a distant mist glossed his gaze as he studied the frustrating witch.
She tilted her head and gave the nape of her neck a slow rub before she slipped off her robes and tossed them onto the counter. He couldn't help but focus on the barely-visible bra straps beneath her white shirt, and he was just able to make out they were light blue. Simple and serene; typical Granger, but that spasm between his hips twitched again anyway. He left his seat carefully; slinking around the furniture and shadows with inaudible footfalls as he edged a little closer to her.
Perhaps if he could get near to her, he could inhale enough of her scent to imitate her taste...
Catching himself and the dangerous thought, he reminded himself how repulsive she was with her inferior blood. An image of that Muggle book she'd insisted he read flashed across his lids, but he shoved it away and planted a scornful sneer on his face, just to reflect how much he really despised her.
And he did. Honestly; he did. Really.
And she needed to know that.
Slipping into the kitchenette, he was now close enough that he could touch her, and the innocent little witch was oblivious until he scuffed his foot against the floor.
Hermione spun around so fast she knocked her mug across the side, and sent it smashing and pouring to the floor with a loud crunch. Her hair was whipped across her face; caught between parted and damp lips as her eyes blazed with stormy surprise. She was panting frantically as she stumbled back, and his hand darted out to grab her wrist.
"Draco," she gasped, trying to pull away and shield her face. "What are you-
But she was cut off as he grabbed her other hand and placed them sternly at her sides; backing her up until she was trapped between him and the counter. She felt panic bubble in her chest; not because she thought he would hurt her, but because he was too close. Her alarmed breathing was sucking in his drugging and masculine smell, and she found her body swarming with heat as their proximity ached beneath her skin.
She watched with wide eyes as he seemed to falter and pull away a little, swaying on his feet with small but seductive movements. The air was wedged in her throat as he towered over her with his features set in a tense scowl and a growl humming in his windpipe.
"I want to get some things straight," he snapped bluntly, and she jumped at his voice. "I didn't help you because I give a shit about your life-
"I-
"Shut up," he hissed cruelly, gripping her wrists a little tighter. "I am deadly serious, Granger. I know how your pathetic little head works, and I am telling you now that it didn't mean a bloody thing!"
"Then why did you help me?" she asked as effortlessly as she could, schooling her expression into a controlled mask. "Why bother-
"Because I bloody had to!" he shouted. "If you had died then I-
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