Title: Waxing Poetic
Fandom: Harry Potter
Notes: For the seventh and final day of the 7 Kisses Challenge @ dramionedrabble. Prompt: romantic kiss.
“I read a fascinating book last night.” Hermione moved from her post at the window of her Arithmancy classroom to slide into the desk facing her boyfriend.
Draco leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Well then – let’s hear it.”
Hermione crossed her legs and leaned towards him with a coy smile, taking pure and ridiculous joy from the spring breeze as it tumbled lazily through the window.
“It was about a man – a passionate, obsessive man living through the dark, romantic Victorian days. He was in love with this girl you see – beautiful, virtuous, entirely out of his league - the usual.” Hermione paused, her eyes dancing. Draco cocked an expectant eyebrow. “His love tore him apart from the inside out, a festering, parasitic presence that sapped him of life and sanity as it robbed him breath by breath, beat by beat. He professed his love to her one beautiful spring’s day, in a charming field rife with sunshine and butterflies and perfection, but she turned him down, spurning him with disaffection, condemning him to walk the earth a living ghost – stocked with breath and blood but no heart." She paused dramatically. "She ran off with some count or admiral or what-have-you that night, leaving the poor man to his own devices and the business end of his rifle.”
Hermione ended breathlessly, leaning farther over the desk between them.
Hermione looked delighted.
“Isn’t it though? Don’t you ever wonder what life would be like if it was inspired not by wealth or power but sustained by love and honor? I mean sure, it’s ridiculously cliché, but there’s a reason for that and when you sit down and really think about it…” She trailed off and leaned back in her chair, fixing Draco with such a look of sincerity that he was able to feel, if only for a moment, just what she meant. He grasped her hand, smoothing her knuckles with the pad of his thumb.
“I understand.” He managed to restrain himself from mentioning the whole suicide thing or rattling off a suave “frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn”.
“It’s better now though. Here.”
Draco glanced up.
“How do you mean?”
Hermione eased her fingers away from his to trace the thin curve of his mouth.
“The guy gets the girl.”
She kissed him softly, her lips skimming the corner of his own.
“The girl gets the guy.”
She smiled against his cheek, then kissed him again.
“Obsessive maniacs fun in theory then - less so in practice? What a strange notion.”
Hermione grinned and he cupped the back of her head, pulling her to him with a playful growl, his lips crashing onto hers with just the sort of fervent passion she’d been idolizing moments before. He smoothed his fingers through her silky hair, pulling her onto the desk before him with surprising ease. She moaned quietly, thrilled out of her mind that class was out for the day.
He pulled away softly, smoothing her pink cheeks with his thumbs, his forehead resting on her own.
Hermione smiled, rubbing the back of his thigh with her heel.
“Obsessive maniacs I can do without, but I can’t say I’d begrudge you the odd love letter, or perhaps…impassioned inter -” she winked and cleared her throat, “excuse me, discourse.”
“As a matter of fact,” Draco curled a lock of her hair in his fingers, smirking softly. “I’m up for that discourse right now.”
“Oh is that right?” Hermione grinned, tugging him closer with her legs. “No preparation needed? Got it all planned out?”
“What can I say? I happen to be highly gifted when it comes to…discourse.”
“Cocky, are you?”
“That’s the idea.”
Hermione grinned against his lips.