requirement | dramione

0.21

Draco clasped Hermione's bra, cold fingers dancing across the smooth, warm skin on her back. Hermione allowed him to and, once he had finished, pulled her Gryffindor tee over her head. Her hair had gone bushy in the way she hated it, so she quickly flattened it to her scalp as she watched Draco. 

A few steps away, Draco was working through the buttons of his shirt. Once he was satisfied with it, he flattened the crisp white fabric to his chest. His eyes reached Hermione's, who was still watching him intently. 

"Why did you do it?" Hermione's voice was riddled with genuine confusion, but her tone was forceful, demanding an answer. Draco's eyes widened at her words, but he did not respond. Instead, he began tucking the tail of his dress shirt into his dress pants. 

His disregard infuriated her. After all that, he was just going to ignore her? She felt her cheeks grow hotter than they had been and anger bubble in her chest. 

This boy made no sense. 

"I said, why did you do it? And why do you always dress like that? It's mortifying." She didn't intend for her tone to sound so malicious. 

Draco's eyes shot back to her. His face now wore the look of annoyance to match his scoff. Hermione suddenly wished she could take back her words. 

"As opposed to this rag of a little lion tee-shirt?" He replied, stepping towards her and pulling at the Gryffindor lion on the center of her top, "Or second-hand robes like the set your boyfriend dresses in?"

Hermione lost sight of her next insult. Her head fell to the side. 

"Ron? He is not my boyfriend." She thought of Fred. What Fred would think of her now... "And, I'll have you know, there is nothing wrong with–"

"Right. I had a feeling you wouldn't be a cheater. You are far too predictable." Draco's arms crossed over his chest and he widened his stance. His face was flat, but his eyes wouldn't release her from his gaze. 

"Oh, that's a load. I'm too predictable? Coming from the boy who has picked two fights with me now and lost both. The boy who ran away from our punishment like a scared kitten. Who comes to hide in the Room of Requirement and–"

"Shut it. You know nothing about me. Don't you pretend like you do." Draco's nostrils were flared and his eyes were steel. Hermione had hit a nerve inside of him, she was sure. She was trying to hold on to Dumbledore's words, but her eagerness and aggression seemed to be getting the best of her. 

She took a breath. 

"Is it really so difficult for you to see the solution here? Tell me about you. Then we don't have to pretend. Explain to me why you've quit quidditch. Explain why you've chosen the Room of Requirement. Explain to me why you look like you haven't slept or eaten in weeks-"

"Explain to me why you are so fucking nosy, Granger." Draco roared, his arms unfolding as his weight shifted forwards. "Explain to me why you can't just be satisfied with how I've made you feel. Explain to me why you keep coming back."

"Explain to me why don't want to be called Malfoy. Explain what's wrong with you." 

She had done it. She had pushed too far. 

Draco's arm lurched forward. 

His hand captured her mouth in a instant. 

His four fingers dug into one cheek while his thumb pried into the other. His palm held her mouth shut. She let out a dangerous breath through her nose. 

His eyes were so gray and clear, they could have been shinning silver. His jaw was clenched, defining all of his features. The dark, sleepless circles beneath his eyes were even more prominent now. He was pure rage.