A Forbidden Birthright

Chapter Twenty Two

Hermione sat silently cursing Draco the next day, furious. Not only had he tricked her into apparating into her bedroom, which she had waited for him in for hours the previous day, but had effectively seduced her. The worst part was she didn't even know why. If it had been to distract her from Cormac, it had been mostly successful. Although still slightly shaken by the shock of his behavior, she felt stabilized by her immediate action against him. But if that wasn't a reason, then he was utterly an asshole.

And she was utterly confused.

Never before had Malfoy ever shown an actual interest in her. He had taunted and teased, flirted and looked at her as though she was a woman, his eyes lingering unabashedly at her curves, but she had never taken it seriously. She'd assumed it was a front he put up, or a tactic he used to make her uneasy around him. He hadn't even told her she looked nice last night, and she had looked far more stunning and alluring than she did on her birthday.

But now, she was thinking back to every glance, questioning it. She recalled when they had locked eyes over Caspian's shoulder at her house, the way his finger swirled sensually in his drink, his gaze dark as he looked at her. She hadn't admitted it to herself then, but she'd felt it. A spark. Something was between them in that moment, something more than a game. And when he'd found her in the library...

She couldn't deny the rush in her blood that was beginning, the desire.

It made her angry. It made her feel as though she was betraying herself. Not hating him with far different than actually liking him in a way that made her stomach flip when she thought about him. When she saw him.

Going to the party last night hadn't been about his rude interruption of their conversation. It hadn't been about still having things unexplained to him. Those were poor excuses that she could barely believed passed as reasonable and acceptable.

She'd wanted him to see her. A reason to grab his attention and keep it. She'd wanted to feel that exciting shiver race through her like ice and embers when he looked at her, when his eyes would undoubtedly trail over any exposed skin she had to offer.

The side of her dress that had been sleeveless was the same side he had brushed her curls away from her neck. It had been a strategic choice in attire, one she altered specifically for that purpose when she decided to crash the benefit. His touch had felt like a brand since then, cursing her to think about it, dream about it. She found her own hand reflexively reaching up and touching the spot, and for a split second, allowed herself to imagine her own hand was his.

It was the same bit of skin Cormac's teeth had scraped against, but the thought of Malfoy's touch there first made her feel as though there was a barrier there. She had scrubbed her body that night, focusing on her neck, and the image of him moving towards her had flashed through her mind like a nightmare. It was replaced by the thought of Draco's fingers on her skin instead of Cormac, a touch that could never be taken from her because it had already happened, something that could never be replaced.

Hermione felt as though she was going through a crisis. Maybe the calming draught he'd given her had actually been a love potion, and these weren't her real feelings. Maybe they weren't her feelings at all. She was desperate for any excuse, but thinking about it only drove her mad.

And what he had said before he disappeared.

She was a thousand more things than nothing.

Had he meant in general? Was he complimenting her success and her intelligence? Or had he meant to him?

She swore she was going to hex him within an inch of his life next time she saw him, which should be soon. She'd sent out a patronus to tell him to meet with her again that night before she left the next day for home. She'd spent most of her day piecing together information about whatever cult Caspian had either started or was a part of, and she had every intention of sneaking into one of their meetings. If she was lucky, she would find all the remaining information she needed there. Or at least most of it.