Unintended Desire of the Heart by laceymoibella
Chapter Notes: Thanks to my wonderful beta, Social Loner, for all her help, encouragement and for coming up with the title for chapter two. You're the best!
Thanks goes out to my lovely Twin, also, for her wonderful input! You're so good to me!
Most of the week passed uneventfully for Harry, Ron and Hermione. They had kept a vigilant eye on the Marauder’s Map to keep tabs on what Malfoy was up to. Thus far, their efforts had yielded no results.
Harry and Ron were irritable due to lack of knowledge and sleep. Hermione, frustrated as she was, was opting to stay positive, for all their sakes.
Thursday morning before breakfast found them in the Gryffindor common room. “Hermione,” Ron questioned wearily, “are you sure about what you saw?” Even Harry wore a skeptical expression on his face, although he made no comment.
“Yes, Ron,” Hermione replied haughtily. “I know what I saw.” She was still quite raw from the episode the previous Friday, the day before she ran into Draco in the hall, when he had heckled her during the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice.
Hermione had been observing the practice. Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil happened to be there as well. “Oh, I would love to fly as well as they do,” Lavender sighed in awe.
Pavarti noted, “It would be a convenient way to get around. Fun, too.”
Hermione, who inwardly cringed at the thought of flying, commented, “There are better ways of getting around, Lavender. The Floo Network and Apparition for instance.”
“But Hermione, we are too young to Apparate,” Lavender pointed out.
“She’s quite right, Granger,” came a drawling voice from behind the three girls. Hermione, Lavender and Pavarti spun around to look at Draco and those who had accompanied him; Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini and Pansy Parkison. A snigger swept through the Slytherin group.
“What are you doing here, Malfoy? Spying on the Gryffindor Quidditch team or seeking pointers on how to really play the game?” challenged Hermione.
Draco looked around his small group of fellow Slytherins before replying. “Couldn’t help but overhear your opinion on flying, Granger. Don’t you know how exhilarating it is?” Draco said pointedly. “No, I’m sure you don’t. You are a Mudblood, after all, so you wouldn’t dare to fly on a broom. It’s not in your blood,” Draco alleged, causing those around Hermione to snicker. Hermione shot Draco a malevolent look. Draco sniffed in triumph. “Always knew you were below the rest of us.”
Looking around at the Slytherin group, Hermione announced, “I need some fresh air. The air around here has suddenly become distasteful.” Without responding to Draco and his giggling cronies, Hermione stalked off toward the castle.
Even now, almost a week later, Hermione still could not forget the incident. How could he know I detest flying? Hermione wondered to herself. Coming out of her reverie, Hermione stated, “I’m going to breakfast. Are you guys coming?”
Harry and Ron struggled to their feet and trailed behind Hermione as she led the way to the Great Hall.
The day crawled by slowly, it was not over when classes were done. Harry and Ron had Quidditch practice after dinner, Hermione needed to work on an essay for Ancient Runes, and both Hermione and Ron had Prefect duty that night.
At dinner, Ron slumped in his seat while he ate, not even bothering to stifle his yawns. Harry and Hermione looked equally as tired.
Finally, when they had all finished eating, Harry and Ron bid Hermione a hasty good-bye and set off for practice. Hermione gathered up her book bag and left for the library.
It was not long before Hermione’s essay was complete. On her way back to her dormitory, Hermione consulted her watch, and noticed it was only half past seven. Hermione knew that Harry and Ron would still be at Quidditch practice, so there was time for a bath before she had to patrol the halls.
She figured a soak in the luxurious tub located in the Prefects bathroom was just the place since it was only open to Prefects. Solitude would be a nice way to relax; even if it was for only a brief few minutes.
Reaching her dorm, Hermione exchanged the books in her bag for clean clothes. She hurried out through the portrait hole and made her way down to the fifth floor.
As she reached the statue of Boris the Bewildered, Hermione walked past, and tapped on the fourth door to the left of the statue. Upon receiving no answer, she whispered the password, “Lilac blossoms.” The door opened quietly.
After securing the deadbolt on the door, Hermione made her way to the ornate in-ground tub. She turned one of the faucets on, checked the temperature with her hand, and soon an aroma of lilacs filled the air as white bubbles poured into the bathtub.
She disrobed and threw her dirty clothes in a heap by her bag while the tub was filling. Striding back over to the golden tub, Hermione squatted down to test the temperature, stood up and stepped gingerly into the warm, soapy water.
Reveling as the warmth invaded her body, Hermione leaned back against the tub and closed her eyes. She felt the tension ease as her muscles relaxed.
All of a sudden, Hermione’s eyes snapped open. Turning her head to her left, she abruptly sank to her chin into the white foam. “Wha - what are you doing here?” she stammered at the figure standing beside the tub. “H-how did you get in?”
“Really, Granger, did you honestly believe a single deadbolt could keep me out?” Draco sneered. His cool grey eyes left her face and came to rest on the sea of bubbles that covered her body. Face flaming, Hermione realized she could sink no further into the frothy white without submerging her head.
Snickering, Draco bent down, dipping his hand into the water. “Hmmm,” he murmured. “Perfect temp….”
“Don’t even think about getting in,” snarled Hermione.
“Oh, don’t worry, Granger,” drawled Draco. “I’ve already thought about it.” And with that, Draco promptly pulled his robes off over his head, revealing black pants and a bare torso.
Hermione felt her face flush, and turned her head away demanding, “Malfoy! Put your robes back on and get out of here!” Hermione, not wanting to move for fear Draco would view her in all her naked glory, thought frantically.
Brain reeling and heart pumping, Hermione tried to think of a way out of her predicament. Suddenly, she heard him slip into the water to her left. Glancing nervously in Draco’s direction, she saw he had leaned his head back against the tub with his arms stretched out resting along the rim of it. His eyes were closed and he appeared oblivious to her discomfort.
Hermione, trying to measure the distance between her and the fluffy white towel she had laid out for herself, was brought out of her reverie with, “Going to put on a show for me, Granger?” Hermione whipped her head to look at him.
“No, I was thinking of how charming it would be to wrap a towel around your neck,” she quipped.
Draco snorted with laughter, and took the opportunity to slide closer to Hermione. His right hand grazed her shoulder as he did so. Hermione shuddered, although not from revulsion, and slipped away from Draco.
“Come on, Granger,” coaxed Draco. “Don’t you want to be social?”
Hermione retorted, “Not in the way you would like.”
Before Hermione had time to react, Draco swiftly slid next to her and slipped his right arm behind her head and around her shoulders, pulling her firmly to his side.
Stunned, heart beating crazily, Hermione turned her head and looked straight into Draco’s penetrating eyes. A shiver ran uncontrollably through her body and she felt a flutter in her belly.
She could feel his breath on her face. Their faces were mere inches apart. His gaze never left hers. Involuntarily she parted her lips. Draco was leaning his face toward hers. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. Draco came closer, lowering his lips to hers.
Feeling his lips touch hers, Hermione suddenly sat up. Heart pounding, feeling disoriented, Hermione looked around the empty bathroom. To her relief, Draco was no where in sight. “A dream! It was only a dream!” she gasped.
Disgruntled, Hermione quickly finished bathing. As she climbed out of tub, she stole a look at her watch. It was quarter past eight. Hermione had time to catch the remainder of Harry and Ron’s practice. She toweled off, dried her hair with her wand, threw on her clean clothes and stuffed her dirty laundry into her bag. Hermione snatched up her robes and wand, and went to the door, throwing back the latch. Pulling her robes on as she walked off in the direction of the stairs.
As she descended the stairs, Hermione caught sight of a blond colored head as it skirted out of sight at the top of the fourth floor. Hermione’s heart thumped in her chest. Malfoy! She hustled down the remaining stairs two at a time. Hermione rushed to catch up with Draco. As she reached the top of the fourth floor, she glimpsed Draco disappear around the corner.
Hermione ran as quickly and quietly as she could. As she came to the corner, Hermione drew to a stop. I cannot wait for Ron and Harry; Malfoy could be long gone by then.
Deciding that the opportunity had presented itself, Hermione chose to proceed. Cautiously, she peered around the corner. Malfoy was staring at the mirror that hung on the wall in front of him. Figures, Hermione thought.
Suddenly, Draco looked in her direction. Hermione quickly pulled back, heart pounding. Had Malfoy seen her? Hermione wondered as she stood flattened against the wall and attempted to quell her thundering heart. Hermione took a deep breath and looked around the corner once more.
What she saw made her heart lurch. Draco was disappearing behind the mirror, which Hermione knew acted as a door to a secret passageway. Astounded, Hermione fully emerged into the hall and whisked down the corridor toward mirror. Before she could get there, the mirror swung closed. Hermione stopped in front of it and viewed her reflection staring back at her.
“So, this is what Malfoy has been hiding,” Hermione muttered quietly. How did he know about this passageway? Curiosity filled Hermione as unanswered questions flashed through her brain.
As far as she knew, only Fred, George, Harry, Ron and her knew about the secret passage behind the mirror. Of course the original creators of the map, Padfoot, Prongs, Moony and Wormtail knew it existed, but two were dead, one worked for the Order and the other, a devoted servant to the Dark Lord, was on the run.
Besides, Fred and George had told Harry it had caved in so it was impassable. “If that’s the case, then why is Malfoy using it?” Hermione questioned her reflection. What was he up to?
Before she could stop herself, Hermione whispered, “Dissendium.” and the mirror swung open on silent hinges. Straightening her spine, Hermione stepped forward into the darkness beyond.
Draco, was itching to get to his task that the Dark Lord had given him. He knew he did not have much time before it had to be done; and he knew what was at stake. The Dark Lord had made certain to tell him.
Draco had checked out the secret passage the week before. Once Draco realized what the job had entailed, he had felt overwhelmed. Draco had sought refuge in the loo where he had attempted to comprehend the assignment he had been given by the Dark Lord. Upon departing the loo, after he had regained some semblance, Draco had run into Hermione.
After that awkward interlude, Draco didn’t dare to try and work on the tunnel right away. He feared he might have aroused suspicions in Granger, who had more than likely alerted Potter and Weasley about the incident. Draco had enough on his mind without having to worry about them dodging his every move.
By Thursday evening, Draco had proceeded no further on the Dark Lord’s assignment. After the run in with Hermione, Draco had wanted things to cool off. He didn’t need to have her or her two side kicks, Potter and Weasley, discovering his intentions.
Knowing that Potter and Weasley had Quidditch practice Thursday evening, and assuming Hermione was there as well, Draco headed for the fourth floor. Draco, being a Prefect, knew patrolling began at nine, so he chose to leave the Slytherin common room around quarter past eight.
Draco reached the fourth floor without encountering anyone, and strode quickly down the hall. He turned the corner and came to stand in front of the mirror that hung halfway down the hall on his left.
Draco stared at his reflection. There were dark circles under his eyes and his face appeared quite gaunt. How had it come to this? A sneer crept onto his face as one thought crossed Draco’s mind; Father, that’s how.
Looking up and then back down the corridor to be sure he was alone, Draco whispered, “Dissendium!” The mirror quietly swung to reveal a dark passageway. Draco hastily entered and the mirror closed noiselessly behind him.
Swallowed by the darkness, Draco pulled his wand out of his robes and said, “Lumos!” and the tip of his wand lit the enclosure. Draco moved onward through the tunnel. Twenty feet in, it turned sharply to the right and then stopped abruptly ten feet further. Blocking the path was a pile of rubble, one third of which had been removed.
Reaching into his robes pocket, Draco pulled out a glass jar that was alight with a blue flame. Setting it down on the floor, Draco murmured, “Nox,” and the light at the tip of his wand snuffed out. Draco surveyed the scene before him and pointed his wand at a rock before him. Concentrating, Draco recited, “Evanesco!” The stone turned into a pile of dust. Draco continued to slowly remove the debris, unaware that someone had entered the passageway behind him.