Secrets Worth Keeping

He had been minding his own business all night. The only notable thing he had done was to use every bit of his tact to keep away from his date while not offending her. It's not exactly that he didn't enjoy Pansy's company. She was, after all, one of his oldest friends. But honestly, the way she looked at him sometimes, with a hungry glint in her eyes, made his stomach churn as bile rose to his mouth. Though she was quite pretty, what with her silky black hair, classically beautiful features, and slender figure, she had been around for so long that he couldn't possibly view her in a sexual light without his head screaming words like incest or morally repugnant. The looks she had given him tonight, coupled with the tugging at his arms and playing with his hair, were more than he, or any man for that matter, could take. Therefore, excuses had been made, and he had slunk off to the second floor, to his favorite nook behind the portrait of a severe-looking witch. He settled down in the tight window seat to look out over the Black Lake wistfully.

He would have thought that with all the magical wonders of Hogwarts, there would at least have been a swimming pool. Perhaps it was hidden somewhere? He longed for a dip in the cool water where he could exercise his tired muscles and stretch out his body to move gracefully and jet forward with every stroke of his powerful arms. He never felt more at home than in the water. Suddenly regretting his decision to stay at school for the ball instead of returning to the Manor, he sighed and shifted in his seat. Perhaps it was time to return to the hall. He could sit here and think to himself for hours, but for some reason, he didn't think that was a particularly good idea this holiday.

Draco rose from his seat and reluctantly left the peace of his nook to head back towards the Great Hall. After all, there were some rumors going around tonight that he needed to hear the full of. Zabini had been telling Pansy and him about a girl whose looks were "improved" tonight. He caught something about hair and makeup and a dress, but the better part of his attention was spent on keeping Pansy's arms from wrapping around him. He needed to see for himself who this girl was. He thought for sure that Blaise must have been exaggerating. She was probably already pretty, and Zabini just hadn't noticed her before. No one could go from ugly to drop-dead gorgeous in one night!

Crash! Just then, Draco felt a small body collide with his at running speed. He had been rounding the corner of the back stairwell when the person ran straight into him from further down the stairs, causing him to fall backwards until he caught hold of the railing and the person dropped on top of him. He automatically caught her—for it was a girl, he saw now—with his other hand to keep her from landing face-first on the sharp corner of the stair above. His eyes swept curiously over her feminine form covered with layers of pink and lavender silk and chiffon. Her creamy skin and luscious brown curls sent a shiver across his spine. Who was this exquisite creature, and how had he never noticed her before? Her face was still turned away from him, stopped just inches from the stair. He heard a low groan from her as she grasped his arm with her slender hand. He flinched at the contact that made his arm tingle, even through his heavy winter dress robes.

"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly as he tried to steady her and help her to her feet, which were clad in strappy pink heels that accentuated her soft, yet muscular calves, which appeared as she shuffled her skirt to free a space for her feet to rest. He gasped at the perfection before him. Really, it was not possible that he had let such a specimen go unnoticed.

As she stood shakily and kept hold of his arm, she started to answer her rescuer as she turned her head to see him. "I'm f-," she stopped short when she took in the pale blond boy before her. Even without the trademark smirk on his arrogant face, he looked intimidating as he bent over her in his expensive dress robes. Her gaze flickered to his silver grey eyes which surprisingly held an emotion other than scorn and hatred in them. What she saw before the surprise and disgust distorted his features was even more surprising. Was that—could that possibly have been concern? She thought not.

"Gra-," he started, slipping easily back into his uninterested drawl.

"Shove off, you stupid git!" she snarled, annoyed that she had thought for a second that he, the epitome of apathy, had been concerned for her. For the third time that night, she almost burst into tears. She struggled for a moment between anger and disappointment, but anger won out. "How is it you're always in the way?!"

"Lovely to see you too, Granger," said Draco, deciding to have a bit of fun before he went back to his boring evening with Pansy. "What's got your knickers in a twist?" his lips curled into a mischievous half-smile.

"Men!" Hermione growled. "I absolutely loathe you all!"

"Well now, I knew you were a filthy Mudblood, but I must say I'm surprised to hear that your sexual tendencies lean that way," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, you'd love to think that, wouldn't you, you smarmy, disgusting wanker!" she pushed his chest viciously to put as much distance as possible between them in the width of the stairwell.

"Hmm, while I'd love to stay here all night and exchange colorful insults with you, I've got to get back to the ball. My date is, after all, the most beautiful girl down there." Lies, he thought. Lies, lies, lies!

Hermione snorted out a derisive laugh. "Now, you and I both know that Miss Delacour already has a date, and he is most certainly not you," she spat the word, raking her narrowed eyes over his tall, masculine body.

"Aha!" he screamed, a plan forming in his mind. "Now you've revealed the object of your sickening female affection. Tell me, did she turn you down before or after the Weasel?" he noticed her flinch at the mention of Weasley.

"Oh, grow up, Malfoy! I personally have no affiliation with her. I was merely referring to the well-known fact that Fleur is easily the prettiest girl in the castle," she said, proud of her quick reasoning that kept the subject from returning to Ron.

"I disagree," he said softly. Does she really not know?

"Shocker!" she gave a single dark chuckle.

"Well, if it's not the French tart you're upset with, it must be Potter or the Weasel," she winced again at the name. "In either case, I'd love to hear what stupid things they did. It must have been good to get you this riled up!"

"It wasn't either of them…to begin with, at least. That nimwit Victor keeps trying to stick his tongue down my throat!" disgust laced her every word.

Draco coughed in his surprise. "Krum?" he asked, not bothering to conceal his shock. At the image of his favorite Seeker snogging the pretty girl before him, he tasted bile in his mouth. He sneered in condescension to conceal his—what was that?—jealousy. No, there was no way he could be jealous because of her. "A terrible Quidditch player, that. I swear, even Potter could beat him in a match, and that's saying something! I can't believe he's your date."

"Well, who's your Miss Beautiful?" she asked, not liking the menacing tone that had crept into his voice. Also, she had to admit, she was a little curious to know who he thought was the prettiest girl in school. Probably Pansy. She had to stifle a giggle at the thought of that ridiculous, air-headed girl hanging all over him earlier that year. It didn't look as if he'd been enjoying himself.

"Later," he waved off her question. "Now, get to the good part. What did the Gryffin-dorks do?"

She debated for a minute whether or not to give him ammunition for the next time he teased her friends. But then, she realized she didn't care. She was so terribly angry at them, and they deserved it. Also, she needed to tell somebody what had happened. She would burst if she had to keep her volatile emotions to herself any longer, and Malfoy was as good an outlet for her anger as any.

"Well," she began, "when I tried to tell them about Victor, Ron just went off on me, saying I'm a slut for going out with him."

Draco cringed at the word slut. Though he had no problem with most insults, he had never been one to use such words that would question the honor of girls, even Mudbloods. She was only 15, for Merlin's sake. She most likely had never even had sex! This was yet another area in which he could claim superiority over Weasley.

"I assumed he was just jealous because he's probably Victor's greatest fan," here Draco snorted internally because he was, in fact, Krum's biggest fan. "I told him so, but right when I said the word 'jealous,' he started again, saying there's no way he could ever be jealous of a frizzy know-it-all like me."

Draco's eyes widened. Hadn't he just had a similar thought? Perhaps he and Weasley weren't so different after all. His brow furrowed at the thought.

"And Harry! Harry just stood there and didn't even bother defending me! I mean, I know he and Ron are mates, but he's supposed to be my best friend. But all he did was stare at Cho Chang!"

Ah, finally! This was exactly what Draco had been waiting for. Wasn't it? So why wasn't he happier about this new incriminating information against Potter? Suppose it was a bit anti-climactic. Either way, there was no reason that Draco Malfoy—the Draco Malfoy—should feel anything other than excitement at the news. Nevertheless, there it was, itching in the back of his mind and screaming for attention. The green monster. And it certainly wasn't there because of that Scottish bint. She wasn't even pretty! His eyes widened infinitesimally as the ugly truth dawned on him. His je—no, he wouldn't even think the word—feeling sprang from Granger's tone as she said Potter's name with reverence like the bloody saint they all thought he was, then the utter loathing with which she spat out Chang's name. In any case, this didn't mean anything. To be on the safe side, though, it was probably best to keep the conversation far from his feelings. Wait! Conversation? He was having an actual conversation with Granger, and neither of them had pulled out their wands. This was new. But it wasn't something he wanted to think about right now.

"Sounds to me like there's a lot more jealousy in this little group than you lot let on," he accused, raising an eyebrow to dare her to deny it.

Hermione's face fell into a smirk that Salazar himself would have been proud of. She leaned in closer until her mouth was only inches from his ear. "Oh, you have no idea!" she whispered darkly.

Her breath at his ear did indescribable things to his body. It took physical effort to restrain himself from grabbing her then.

He cleared his throat and smirked, "Oh, yeah?" he croaked out, damning his voice for betraying him.

"Absolutely," she let the word glide off of her tongue. "And if they knew I was here talking with you right now…"

He gulped as a fierce determination glinted in her eyes. He realized they were still standing far too close. A flush rose to her cheeks and he could almost feel her pert breasts moving with her increasingly heavy breaths. She took a step forward and allowed her fingers to dance over his cheek with a feather-light touch.

"Who was your date tonight?" she whispered, and he could feel her breath against his chest through the layers of his dress robes.

"Not important," he replied in an equally soft voice, not trusting his voice.

"You did say she was beautiful, so why aren't you with her?" Her gaze pierced through him as if she could see into his soul. He was having a hard time finding a reason to keep lying to her. His eyes clouded as she ran a finger down his lapel.

His resolve snapped, and he gripped her arm, leading her back to his nook. He shoved her against the wall, trapping her with his body. Alarm was written on her face and her breath was coming in pants. He leant down so that their faces were so close, their noses were touching. "Because you are more beautiful," he said before capturing her lips with his.

Her lips were soft and warm and surprisingly pliant under his mouth. One of his hands came up from her arms to tangle itself in her hair, the other snaked around to her lower back to press her closer to him, hoping that she could feel exactly what she was doing to him. She moaned, opening her mouth to him. He greedily took it, relishing in the feel of her silky mouth. When her tongue tentatively swiped against his, he lifted her so that her legs could wrap around him. The feel of her heated core against his staff was too much.

He reluctantly tore his mouth from hers, having decided to stop this before it could go any further, but when she attached her mouth to his neck, he gave a growl and shifted his hips, making her squeal against his pulse point. One of his hands came up to tease the underside of her breast and she reclaimed his mouth for a moment before muttering, "More."

He obliged, all too willingly. Taking one of her pert globes in his hand, he massaged and rolled his thumb around her nipple until he could feel it jabbing at him through her gown. He put his mouth to her, sucking the tender flesh through the now wet material. She preened and purred at his ministrations. Her hands wandered aimlessly from his shoulders, across his chest, through his hair.

One of his hands trailed down her thigh and hitched up her skirt. When his fingers found the hem of her knickers, he looked to her for confirmation. She nodded quickly and his fingers dipped into the material to find her more than ready for him. His fingers, though unpracticed, stroked the silken flesh expertly until he found a place she seemed to like very much. Her gasps and pants grew as he circled the bud of flesh repeatedly. When she came undone with a soundless cry, he removed her knickers and returned his mouth to hers, languorously learning her lips and tongue and groaning when she nibbled his lip. He would've stayed in this position for Merlin knew how long if she hadn't spoken.

"Draco, please," hear breathy sigh and use of his name nearly undid him.

"What do you want?" he panted.

"You," she answered, trailing her hand down to the front of his trousers.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yessss," she hissed as he nipped at her pulse point. She wouldn't have to ask twice.

He undid his trousers with shaking hands and palmed his member before swiping it across her slit. Gods, she felt glorious. "Squeeze my shoulders," he said.

And in one swift motion, he was filling her. "Breathe," he whispered, "and relax."

She did. And when she nodded to him, he began a torturously slow pace until she began meeting his thrusts and squeezing him closer to her with her legs. He sped up and slipped his hand between them to rub her already sensitive bud until she shuddered around him, and he followed, allowing her to milk him completely. They collapsed in the window seat and stayed until their breathing evened out. Draco was the first to stand, casting a quick tergeo over them both and straightening his now wrinkled robes as Hermione righted her gown and brought a hand up to her mussed hair. He smirked at her disheveled appearance before schooling his features.

"This can't happen again," he warned.

"Duh," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

He sneered before leaving his nook, unsure why her clear dismissal of him felt like a knife in his chest. He quickly left toward the Great Hall, not even noticing when he passed two repentant-looking Gryffindors in the corridor. However, he did stop in his tracks on the stairs when he heard raised voices behind him. One of them was Granger's.

Backtracking rather quickly, he spied the two red-faced banes of his existence gesturing wildly at hear appearance and back down the stairs. The look of hurt and shame on his face rankled his nerves. He marched past the Pothead and Weasel and stood defensively beside the witch he'd just shagged into oblivion, placing a comforting arm around her waist. For some reason, the relieved smile she sent him made his own lips quirk up.

"Trouble in paradise?" he smirked at the two boys.

"Seriously?" Weasley shouted as he spun and ran toward Gryffindor Tower.

Potter's bewildered face ran the gambit of the entire rainbow in the space of a few seconds, finally ending in a deathly white. "We'll talk about this later," he spat out through clenched teeth before following his friend.

"Thanks," Hermione squeaked out before attempting to follow them, but Draco's arm tightened around her waist. She looked up at him, puzzled.

"Anytime," he winked, smirking at the blush on her cheeks. "And I'd give them a minute before you follow."

He sauntered toward the Great Hall, not daring to think about the consequences of his actions just yet. For now, it was enough that he had discovered the secret of Granger and he intended to keep her for himself.