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Chapter 11 Hypocrisy Is Her Middle Name
How can I look at your smiling face and not feel ashamed?



‘Cos I’ve cheated on you time and time again



What would you say if it was to your worst enemy?



I fell from grace and you don’t deserve me



Is it fear that keeps my mouth shut?



Maybe I’m afraid you’ll call me a slut



I’m sorry I’m so weak



I’ll just go and hide my face in shame



For hypocrisy is my middle name.
Lyrics by me.

A breathy moan escaped her lips as her back arched, her head rose from the rug, the silky brown tresses cascading down her back to land on the shaggy ornamental hearthrug. Light beads of sweat flecked across her forehead, the few damp tendrils of her voluminous hair, clinging around her face. Another shuddering moan darted from her slightly parted lips, causing another tremor to roll over her naked and sensitive body. A masculine grunt joined her moan and Hermione opened her eyes, watching the very masculine Draco Malfoy leaning over her, his ashen blonde hair, long since having lost it’s immaculate state gelled to the back of his head and was falling into those icy grey eyes, those eyes that both drew her in and disgusted her at the same time. They held no warmth or joy, they were so opposite to those azure warm eyes she was used to, but that drew her in all the more.




 “Oh God Malfoy!” Hermione shuddered out brokenly, a slow smile forming on her lips as she let out another earth shuddering moan. Her sweaty hands ran through her thick hair, getting caught in the tangles of their lovemaking and Draco let out another grunt, which elicited a small cry from the bushy haired girl lying underneath him.




 “Holy fuck Granger!” Malfoy grunted thrusting into her that caused both of them to let out cries of pleasure. Hermione arched her back, shudders reverberating down her spine as her hands flew to wrap themselves around Draco’s neck, the nails digging into his pale skin.




 “Malfoy”, Hermione growled, but stopped as Malfoy gazed down at her with those stormy grey eyes, a confused crinkle forming on his forehead, not quite sure why she was admonishing him. “Don’t swear”, she added a little breathless and Malfoy stopped, a smirk forming on his face as he gazed down at the brunette bookworm lying underneath him. He let out a light laugh when he realised what she was giving out about.




 “Merlin Granger, we’re in the middle of something and all you can think of is that I shouldn’t swear?” Malfoy let out another sharp laugh at this and raised an eyebrow at her. 




 Hermione lowered her eyebrows and let out a growl under her breath, narrowing her eyes, which caused Malfoy to laugh even more. She let out a huffy sigh and turned her head to the side, refusing to look at him.




 “You can huff all you want Granger, it still makes you look sexy, now if you want to go and pout all night, I’ll just leave you be”, Malfoy replied, pushing himself up on his arms, only Hermione had turned her head back to face him, a determined look on her face. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down towards her, her eyes darkening.




 “Oh no you don’t, you’re getting back to what you were doing!” she commanded sharply, which caused Malfoy to smirk even more. She grabbed his face with both her hands and pulled him down her, capturing his lips in a searing hungry kiss. His tongue flicked across her mouth begging for entrance, which she all too willingly gave him, as both tongues danced their fiery passionate dance. Hermione wrapped a leg around his waist, drawing him closer to her, which caused Malfoy to let out a deep groan and grab her leg, holding it tightly in place. He kissed a trail down her neck as Hermione closed her eyes, enjoying the pure bliss of Malfoy’s kiss and touch.



 



Hermione shot upright on her bed, panting slightly as the blanket that had barely been covering her hot flushed body, fell to the floor. She tried to calm her racing heart as her fingers went to her lips, noticing how swollen they felt, as if that dream she had just had about her and Malfoy had been real. In reality, the dream, that dream had been haunting her for the last week, and she knew why. It was not so much a dream as it was a reliving of the very hot night she shared with Malfoy, the night she had given in to her inhibitions and just felt. 

A week later, and still every night she had the same dream, the same experience she lived over and over, each time waking up hot and sweaty and as turned on as she had been on that fateful night.



Hermione rubbed her face with her hands, trying to dispel the racing thoughts of her and the Slytherin, but she knew she would fail, as she had every night. The oversized t-shirt and shorts that were her night time wear, were soaked through with sweat, and as she sat on her bed, with only a thin sheet spread across her legs, her body started shivering slightly. Hermione groaned at herself and swung her legs over to the side of the bed, slowly rising from the bed. She let out a low hiss at the cold floorboards underneath her bare feet and tiptoed over to where her slippers lay, sighing as her feet slipped into them. 

Hermione walked over to her window, and pulled the curtains open a little, peering out onto the black mass of the Great Lake, in front of her, turning to her right and gazing at the dark Forbidden Forest, which was as eerily quiet as always. She leant her head against the cold windowpane, shivering slightly and watching as her breath misted part of the window, only to fade a moment later. She couldn’t go on like this, hardly sleeping. It would soon start to affect her schoolwork and Hermione hated anything that got in the way of her schoolwork, yet she knew the answer. Well the two answers actually and neither she was keen on following through. She refused to lose Ron, and she wouldn’t give in to Malfoy any time soon. No matter how much her body wanted her to, she had principles and by god she was going to stick to them, even if it killed her!




Hermione moved away from the window and crossed her room, making her way for the door, picking up a book she had left on her desk the night before on the way there, but as she grasped the doorknob, she hesitated. What if Malfoy was down there, she was only in her pyjamas and Hermione couldn’t fall for him again. She sighed, no matter how inviting the great sofa in front of the dying fire seemed, she didn’t want to risk an encounter with the blonde haired Slytherin, knowing him the one time she needed peace he would be there.




Instead she let out an audible and irritated sigh and let go of the doorknob, dropping the book in a chair. Tonight she had better not risk it. She turned around and got into bed, determined she would for once get a good night’s sleep!



*        *          * 





 “Ron, will you please just turn around and talk to me properly!” Hermione cried out indignantly, pulling at his arm before he could walk away from her, and turned him around. “You have been weird with me for ages, even though you promised you wouldn’t Ron!” Her words were shrill, but they held a note of panic in them that even Ron couldn’t miss. He looked down at his feet, his arm hanging limply at his side. Hermione let go of his arm and pressed a hand to her face in a vain attempt to stop the tears she was sure were welling up in her eyes.




 Not now, this isn’t the time to start feeling guilty she admonished herself and took a deep breath to control her emotions. This was the way it had been with her the past week, feeling so overwhelmingly guilty she feared she would drown in her misery, and every time she was with Ron she tried so hard to make things right, show him she loved him and maybe in some unconscious way prove to herself that that night really had only been a mistake. Hermione was beginning to become clingy with Ron, and even though he wasn’t aware of the great treachery of his girlfriend, he knew something was wrong. 



   “What is it Hermione?” Ron asked tiredly, looking up briefly to catch her eyes and see the sorrow in them. He sighed hating that he was hurting her, but he knew there was something different between them. For Gryffindor bravery seemed to have abandoned him, and instead of confronting the issue between them, he would rather pretend there was nothing wrong, even if he was pushing her away in the process. 




 “Please Ron, just tell me what I did wrong!” Hermione pleaded with him, the words stinging her, because she knew exactly what she had done wrong, but could never admit to it. Her policy on the matter with Malfoy was to act like nothing had happened. 




 “You done nothing wrong”, Ron sighed and glanced up at his girlfriend, trying a small smile, but what came out felt and looked forced so he stopped. “I just got Quidditch practice on now”. With that he looked down at where Hermione was still holding onto his arm and gently but firmly disengaged her hand from his arm. He sighed once more and looked up at her, a real, though rather hesitant smile creeping along his facial features and before it had a chance to bloom, he was walking down the corridor away from her. 




Hermione blankly gazed down at her hand, that had held onto Ron just a moment earlier and before she could even stop herself, a lone tear rolled down her face, trailing a way down her cheeks and pausing momentarily before it delved down the curve of her jaw and made its way to her school shirt. 




Everything was so wrong between them, Ron was avoiding and pushing her away and Hermione herself was so consumed with guilt, she wondered if she could even see clearly still. She was not wearing a set of rose tinted glasses; instead she wore ones that to her paranoid and overworked mind felt were accentuating her treachery, as if everyone and everything was judging her. She could almost hear the proverbial beating heart under the non-existent floorboards, its thumping rhythm reminding her of her guilt. 




Hermione bit down on her lower lip in an attempt to calm her raging emotions, the guilt and fear that had been bubbling just under the surface for the last week, which she had been working so hard to press down in her soul, was threatening to finally be released. She knew it would be fruitless to fight this battle with herself forever, as she would lose terribly, but to cry in such a public place, was not something she was comfortable with. With one last shuddering gasp, and the quiet trembling of her body, Hermione quickly wiped away a stray tear and turned on her heel, marching purposefully down the corridor. The confidence and assurance she was portraying was so much more than just an act, it was a shield from the world, but even this impenetrable shield was wavering. It too soon would crumble and Hermione would be naked and exposed. A small hiccup escaped her lips as another tear carved its path down her cheeks and without even thinking on it, Hermione sped up and broke into a desperate run. 

She meandered in and out of students leisurely making their way through the castle, sometimes barging past them, but if that wasn’t unusual enough for them, the fact that they saw their Head Girl with tears streaming down her eyes was certainly enough to cause a few raised eyebrows and whispers. Hermione was so consumed in her own little world she wasn’t even aware, not that she would have cared very much. 



She didn’t stop, not even with an aching heart and a stitch in her side, until she made her way into the Head common room, and the portrait door was closed firmly behind her. As the fragile girl gasped for air, her hand clutching her aching side, the tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and it did not take much for the sobs to begin too, and by that point she had lost all control over her emotions. She unsteadily made her way to her room, wanting in no way to get caught by Malfoy in her hour of weakness, he would only make derogatory remarks and hold it against her for being so weak. She was a filthy Mudblood after all and weakness was in her nature. As tempestuous a relationship she had with Malfoy, she knew he at the very least acknowledged her strength, both in mind and personality, this she was very well aware of, but the thought that she would lose whatever little respect he had of her was too much. 




She silently crept up the stairs, making sure to skip the creaking step halfway up and closed her door behind her, before Malfoy could even be aware of her presence. She was too weak to deal with him, especially today. Hermione threw herself onto her bed and cried for a full half hour, but after she was done and some of her strength had returned to her, she got up and washed her face with cold water, pulled her schoolbag next to her table and began her schoolwork. It would not do well to dwell on the problems she had or the guilt she felt. When there was a crisis Hermione needed to be productive and essays couldn’t write themselves. 



 



Before she even realised it a full day had passed her by and Hermione had not stepped out of her room since she came running in earlier that morning with tears streaming down her eyes. Currently she was perched rather leisurely on her wooden chair, a blanket thrown loosely around her shoulders to stave off whatever cold the small crackling fire in the hearth had not managed to do. She dropped her quill onto her parchment sheet and gazed out of her window, noting how the setting sun was slowly making its way down the sky and was currently hovering over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest. The azure sky was streaked with hints of lavender, pink and a crimson red and the last flecks of golden sunlight interspersed this vibrant watercolour, and before Hermione even realised what was going on she was sucked into the beautiful sky and the minutes had flown past her by. 




Hermione got up from her chair and wrapped the blanket tighter around her slightly shivering body and made her way over to her bedroom window, leaning against the pale cool glass, its icy touch sending shivers down her arms and spine. Even in the pale twilight, Hermione could still make out players practicing on the Quidditch pitch, as she craned her neck to the side and shifted her body closer to the glass. It would soon be too dark for the team to continue on, but even as the sun was finally swallowed up by the thick mass of the Forbidden Forest, they did not stop. It was only as the sky darkened and the bright colours faded from the sky, was Hermione finally able to make out the colours of the players’ uniforms. 




The bright Slytherin green shone vibrantly in the twilight light, and one in particular, the pale blonde haired boy that was hovering above the rest of the players was as discernible to Hermione as the dark canopy of the trees. She watched him entranced, her mind drifting from conscious thought and as he flew in circles and made slow arching loops in the air, she became mesmerized by his actions. 

Despite his cool and arrogant exterior, there was a calmness and confidence that drew her in. It was in moments like these, when he let go of his arrogance and his pride and when he was too busy concentrating on something else that Hermione could truly appreciate him in every aspect from his lean and toned figure right down to his aloofness and cool interior that could burn with a passion she had never known before. She watched him entranced for a few minutes, and it seemed that Draco too had seen it was too dark to continue so he dismissed his team, but instead of gladly rushing to the ground like his fellow team mates he continued doing laps around the pitch, even after everyone had gone. His laps turned larger and wider as he flew round and around, and it was during one of his laps as he reached the closest proximity to Hermione’s window that he could, he spotted her. 

Their eyes locked for a moment, neither willing to look away, but when he broke the contact, he turned around and Hermione quickly moved away from the window. 



She felt flustered and embarrassed that she had been caught watching Malfoy, by Malfoy himself none the less, and as she anxiously shuffled around her room, deciding what to do, deciding the best thing to do was continue with her work. She expelled a large breath and purposefully strode back over to her table and sat down, fully intent on continuing her work for Potions and forgetting all about Malfoy, his lean physique or how entranced she had been. Her work continued as such, but as the evening wore on and she still hadn’t heard anything from Ron, her mood became more despondent, until nine o clock came and still no sign of her boyfriend. By this point Hermione gave up on her studies, the Potions homework had long ago been completed and for the last hour she had been doing nothing but read over her Charms notes. Feeling what an unproductive and miserable day it had been, Hermione changed into her pyjamas and grabbed her favourite book, Hogwarts, A History, and made her way down to the common room, fully intent on taking up the large sofa in front of the fireplace and reading the rest of the night away. 



Her slipper clad feet quietly made their way down the spiral staircase to the common room, and she breathed out a sigh of relief when she spotted that Malfoy wasn’t in the common room. The sofa was all hers and she gleefully made herself comfortable, resting her head against the arm as she opened her book and began reading. 




Hermione hadn’t gotten past the first chapter when the portrait to the common room burst open, pulling Hermione out of her stupor as she sat up on the sofa, almost rather foolishly expecting her boyfriend to come walking in, so it was with a disappointed sigh that she observed Malfoy coming into the common room, carrying his broom over his shoulder and still wearing his Quidditch gear. 




 Temporarily forgetting that she hated the boy, Hermione queried, “Were you out on the pitch this whole time?” Knowing full well she was referencing to having watched him hours earlier from her bedroom window.




 “Yeah”, was his grunt of a reply as he laid his broom against the wall and proceeded in taking of his outer Quidditch gear and dumping them next to the broom, starting with his shin pads and his outer vest. 




 “What’s it to you anyway?” he added, pulling his shirt over his head and completely disregarding Hermione’s shocked face and henceforth the strong blush that covered her cheeks at his actions. 




 “I was just wondering, it’s been dark for ages. How could you have seen anything?”




 “It’s not so much about seeing the Snitch, Granger, as it is about feeling the game, using your other senses and not just relying on your sight”, he replied, turning his back to her and picking up his things. 




 “Oh right”, Hermione replied, mutely surprised for his depth in the conversation. “I was just curious that’s all”.




 “I noticed Granger”, he replied with a wry smile, that threw Hermione even more than his depth or the fact he had just taken off his shirt in front of her moments earlier. Malfoy turned his back to her once more and climbed the spiral staircase to his bedroom, disappearing behind the door. Hermione furrowed her brows at the unusual conversation, but just shrugged to herself and continued reading where she left off. 




She had again not managed to get past more than a few paragraphs, when Malfoy ambled down the staircase having changed into something more comfortable and Hermione detected from the clean fresh smell coming from him, that he had showered too. He made his way over to the couches next to the fireplace and plopped himself down onto one next to Hermione’s sofa, pulling out a roll of parchment and some books Hermione hadn’t been aware he was carrying. She raised her eyebrow at his attempts at studying this late at night but said nothing and read on. They continued their charade of ignoring each other despite the stolen glances and deep thoughts for a few more minutes, but it was Hermione’s fidgeting and irritated huffs that broke the spell hanging over them. 




 “Alright Granger, what’s got you so fidgety. Weaselbee not paying you enough attention?” Malfoy stated, letting out a sigh and dropping his quill back into the inkwell. 




 “What’s it to you anyway?” Hermione asked, raising and eyebrow at him over her book.




 “Because you’re distracting me, so come on out with it!” he sighed, as if stating the obvious to a small child. 




 “It’s not really any of your business”, Hermione replied defensively.




 “Yes it is; we’re both Heads and your disrupting my valuable study time”.




Hermione opened and closed her mouth, crossing her arms across her chest and let out an irritated huff, knowing she had no way of coming back from that one. 




 “Well I’ll take it from the fact that you didn’t deny it, this is about the Weasel. Let me guess, he’s been neglecting you and now you’re smothering him because of that guilt your feeling only he’s pushing you more away and you feel horrible”.




 Hermione opened and closed her mouth like a dumbstruck goldfish, shocked and not quite what to say to Malfoy’s astuteness, she never realised he had. 




 “How do you do that?” she asked stunned, “I thought you wouldn’t even know that the emotion guilt was?”




 “Guilt is an emotion for the weak and letting yourself succumb to them shows a lack of strength. Rest assured Granger, I do not feel these emotions as you so eloquently put it. I just happen to be very good at reading emotions on others. If you want my advice, and before you start lecturing me in your know-it-all attitude just listen up. The Weasel doesn’t know what he’s got and if he doesn’t watch out he’s going to lose you. Weasel’s taking you for granted and is pushing you away because he’s a lad and probably suspects something. If you really wanna stay with that pathetic idiot give him space and he should come crawling back to you”.




 Hermione’s eyes were wide. “But I thought you didn’t care. Whatever happened to me being a Mudblood and being beneath you?”




 “Rest assured Granger, you’re still a Mudblood, you’re still dirt to me, and you’re still beneath me in every way”, Malfoy sneered and picked up his quill resuming his work.




 “I don’t understand!” she breathed, perplexed, letting her book slide to the floor.




 “Don’t try to”, Malfoy muttered in reply, not looking up from his parchment. 




 “Right I’m going to bed”, Hermione mumbled, still too stunned with this newest development in the enigma that is Draco Malfoy. She grabbed her book from the floor and stood up, but at that moment Malfoy jumped up from his seat, letting the parchment and his quill drop to the carpeted floor. Hermione let out a surprised gasp and he grabbed her upper arms, holding the shocked Hermione in place. 




 “Just because that Blood Traitor can’t appreciate you, doesn’t mean no-one else can!” his voice was low and filled with an emotion Hermione couldn’t define. Hermione just mutely nodded her head, not sure how to react to Malfoy trying, in a very warped way to make her feel better.




 She gulped and let out a shaky breath, uttering a trembling “Thank you”. Malfoy cocked his head to the side slightly, not quite sure how to respond to Hermione actually saying thank you to him. 




 “You know…well thank you anyway”, Hermione added, smiling slightly at him. He in turn just nodded and pulled her flush against his body, and before Hermione could even make sense of his strange behaviour he had kissed her.




What started out as a simple and chaste kiss, turned more desperate as Malfoy let go of her upper arms and wrapped his hands around her waist. Hermione let go of her inhibitions and her doubts and for the first time that day just let herself feel what it felt like to just be wanted. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back as passionately as she could. 





A/N's: Ha ha there you go, knew I could finally spit out that chapter to my satisfaction. Who would've guessed it would have taken two months for that chapter alone.
I'm sory you guys it took so long. For ages I didn't know how to write this chapter as it's so crucially important to the development of the plot and then reality and the problems that come with it got in the way, but that's all over and done with and I can concentrate on this story more.

Anyway I hope you enjoyed that chapter and like the new banner for the story. I'm very proud of it as it's all my own creation. The reason why the banner's got cherry blossoms on it will be revealed later on in the story, as they are quite crucial, but you'll understand when you get to it. 
Review let me know what you think of the chapter and most importantly if you want to discuss it a little. I love discussing different thoughts and ideas with a reviewer.
I might even set up an author page on the HPFF forums again for people who want to discuss this or any of my other stories. 
Let me know what you think,
Agrolass

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