Little Dollface

Fun Stuffs! Banners!

dollfaced — Thu, 31 Mar 2011 14:24:02 GMT

I needed one place to keep all the fic banners I've made for friends*. And this is it.

for hereticalvision's Hands of Lust

for somandalicious's Murder, My Heart

for akashathekitty's The Complexity of Carnal Knowledge

for akashathekitty's Pure Depravity

for akashathekitty's RTFM

for akashathekitty's One Wild Night

for akashathekitty's Playing Games

for akashathekitty's Taste of Your Kiss

*I'm always open to making fun stuff like this for my f-list so If you'd like to request something just email me with the details :)

It Figures - Draco/Hermione

dollfaced — Fri, 28 Jan 2011 01:04:22 GMT

Title: It Figures
Author: dollfaced
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Word Count: 320
Rating: T
Warnings/Notes: Unbeta'd. Written for Week 83 at sortinghatdrabs. The prompt was "I shouldn’t ask but…".

“I shouldn’t ask but… are you staring at Malfoy?”

Hermione almost jumped out of her seat at the sound of Ginny’s question but played it off with a weak chuckle. “Certainly not. I was doing Arithmancy calculations in my head… for fun. I know it looks like I’m staring but I was calculating. ” She needed to stop babbling now. Ginny wasn’t stupid and Hermione was just digging the hole deeper with each word.

Ginny gave her a skeptical smile and slid nearer for what Hermione suspected would be a full-on interrogation. To avoid that conversation, Hermione grabbed her books, a half-eaten scone, and bolted towards the doors. Over her shoulder she called, “Sorry, Ginny! I forgot something in the library.”

Only seconds after her escape Hermione ran directly in to the source of her problem.

“Are you following me?” she immediately accused. Always better to be on the offensive.

Malfoy grinned and moved the middle of the hallway, making it as difficult as possible for her to get by. “And what if I am?”

She rolled her eyes. “I told you I don’t have time for these silly games.”

“Games? You’re the one who was staring at me, Granger.” he said with smug tone.

Stomping her foot, she defended, “I was doing Arithmancy in my head. Calculating things.”

“Calculating, huh?” He moved closer. “Well, call if whatever you want.” Malfoy slid his hand around her waist, pulling her even closer. “But what I’d really like to know is what have you concluded about me after all this ‘calculating’?”

Hermione sighed and gave into his embrace. Looking up at him for a moment, she then answered, “That you’re impossible to figure out.”

Her reply made him chuckle lightly. Then he drew nearer and with a devious grin, he whispered in her ear, “And?”

She smiled and blushed, snaking her arms around his neck. “And I’m a sucker for a challenge.”

Nothing - Draco/Hermione

dollfaced — Mon, 20 Sep 2010 16:48:52 GMT

Title: Nothing
Author: dollfaced
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Word Count: 450
Rating: T
Warnings/Notes: First, a gigantic thank you goes to seraphimerising for beta'ing this at the eleventh hour! Written for the Prompt 1 of September Dramione Challenge at dyno_drabbles. Prompt was: "You could never understand the demons that I faced.". I got to share First Place with ma bb rivertempest *snuggles Carrie*

Hermione felt shivers going down her spine. “Stop staring. It’s bloody annoying.”

“I’m looking out the window,” Malfoy said casually from his perch in an over-sized chair.

She gave him a suspicious look. “Its pitch black outside. All you can see out that window is your own reflection staring back.”

“Precisely,” he replied, smirking.

Not in the mood for useless conversation tonight, she didn’t bother to respond. He found it entertaining to bait her into inane arguments and apparently, she was just foolish enough to let him most days. But no more. They were in the middle of a war and it was not time for such foolishness. Focusing on the book in her, lap she burrowed deeper into her blanket.

“Maybe Weasley will offer to warm you up? It astounds me that you’re still in love with that tosser.”

Her head jerked up. “What?” Her eyes narrowed but she caught herself. No, she wasn’t taking the bait tonight. “Ron is not a tosser,” she said calmly.

“So you are in love with him?”

“What’s it to you?”

Malfoy stood up and walked closer to her and the warmth of the fire. “He’s sleeping with Lavender Brown, who – not that I need to remind you – is not the witch he ditched you for.”

“I didn’t know you liked to indulge in petty gossip.” She was deflecting. She might be over Ron but the sting of their failed relationship still lingered.

“He’s not the nice bloke you think he is.”

She chuckled. “Like you are,” she muttered.

He startled her by grabbing her book and flinging it across the room. She jumped up to protest but he cut her off. “Damn, Granger, nothing is ever good enough for you, is it?! No matter what I do, you’ll always see that wanker as somehow better. Is that it? Have I not apologized?” he sighed and ran his hands roughly through his hair. “You could never understand the demons that I faced to get here, yet you never give me a bit of slack!”

She stood in shocked silence for a brief second. What had she done to deserve such rage from him of all people? “Apologize? Not to me! Never to me!” she screamed, shocking even herself with the force of her pent up fury. How dare he think that she owed him some slack?

Her body was shaking with rage as he pulled it into his. “Sorry,” he whispered over and over into her hair. “I’m sorry… for everything. There’s nothing I regret more now than the things I said and did to you.”

She pulled away to look at him. “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” he answered, bushing his lips softly against hers.

Destructive Lies

dollfaced — Mon, 23 Aug 2010 10:58:57 GMT

Title: Destructive Lies
Author: dollfaced
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Word Count: 200
Rating: R
Warnings/Notes: strong language, unredeemed Draco. Written for deatheaterdrabs. Prompt is here.

Hermione caressed his arm and asked, “What’s wrong, Draco?”

I fucking hate you.

He shrugged her off. “Nothing. Just a bit knackered, I suppose.”

Her eyes searched his, desperate for the truth. “Don’t worry about them. Harry and Ron will come around. I can see that you’re on our side now and they will too.”

Stupid bitch.

“I wish I could be that optimistic.” He took a step back. “I think I should leave.”

“No, don’t,” she pleaded, moving closer. “Stay. I’ll make them see. I’ve seen the real you and I can make -”

Shut up!

He cut her off with a heated kiss. Her words broke his brain and scratched at his soul. There were days when all he wanted to do was punch that perfect mouth of hers until he had shut her up forever.

She moaned as his hand slid slowly under her jumper. He’d fuck her now. Fuck her until she screamed his name. Draco loved when she did that. Each time it brought her closer to trusting him without question. And once she did, he would use that trust to destroy her entire world.

If only he could keep her from destroying him first.

Lunacy - Harry/Pansy

dollfaced — Mon, 02 Aug 2010 18:26:16 GMT

Title: Lunacy
Author: dollfaced
Pairing: Harry/Pansy
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG
Warnings/Notes: Won Round 3, Challenge 7 of pphp_ldws :) Prompt was Rationality vs. Incoherence.

“That’s it. You’ve gone and lost the plot completely,” Pansy insisted as she looked around for a way to escape her current predicament.

“No, it makes perfect sense!” Harry said, caging her in with his body and damn persistence.

Pansy didn’t like feeling trapped. He backed down slightly, perhaps sensing her unease. She let out a small sigh of relief; apparently he hadn’t given way to complete lunacy. “Listen, I know you have this crazy idea in your head and I’ll be completely honest with you, sure in another time, another place, I might… might consider it. But we both know it won’t work.”

He beamed at her. Okay, not the reaction she was going for. He was supposed to clue in on the rejection part, not the “on the planet Mars we could be together” part.

“So is that a maybe?” he asked hopefully.

“No, Potter, it’s a no. Haven’t you ever been rejected before or do witches just fall at your feet as you walk the streets?”

“Of course they don’t… I mean there was that one time outside Borgin & Burkes but Hermione said she was only— ”

Pansy snapped her fingers in his face. “Focus! I was joking. I don’t care what happens between you and other witches.” She crossed her arms and added, “It’s none of my business.”

“Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!” she snarled. How delusional; he needed to reacquaint himself with St. Mungo’s Ward 49.

“You looked upset when I mentioned that other woman but I’m not interested in anyone else if you were worried about that.”

Pansy growled in frustration.

“Not sure why you don’t see it but we make perfect sense. We’re real. That night, at Malfoy’s wedding, it was the best night of my life and I’ve had some damn exciting nights. That one I never wanted to end. I know you’re scared but you can trust me.”

Pansy sunk down onto the nearby bench. She sighed. Why did he have to make it so hard to see reason? Yes, it had been a great night but it was some crazy blip in the fabric of the universe; rationally it made no sense! Before that night they’d never even spoke a civil word to each other and now he was practically declaring his undying devotion. Why couldn’t she attract a normal wizard for once?

“You’re really serious about this? And I suspect you have no plans to give up lunacy anytime soon.”

“I am. And I’ll wait. If you need time, I can wait.”

She hesitated. “Okay, fine.”

Harry smiled like he’d just won the Quidditch World Cup ten times over. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Tomorrow night.”

“Don’t get too excited. I still think this is your nuttiest idea yet and you’ve had more than your fair share. I’m only saying yes so I can say I told you so.”

Harry kissed her quickly on the cheek as he left. “So am I. See you at seven.”

________________

And yo, check it out! This was the final challenge of Round Three and by some amazing miracle I WON! I love the pretty banner cardigankate made &hearts

Undercover Schemes - Harry/Pansy

dollfaced — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 12:47:19 GMT

Title: Undercover Schemes
Author: dollfaced
Pairing: Harry/Pansy
Word Count: 299
Rating: PG
Warnings/Notes: Won Round 3, Challenge 6 of pphp_ldws :) Prompt was Contempt vs. Adoration.

“Tell me you love it.”

Harry chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “I love it, Parkinson. Of course I love it.” He returned the report, their fingers touching slightly in the exchange. “You knew I would. No one in the department devises better undercover schemes than you.”

“It’s because I used to be a bad girl,” Pansy said with a wink.

Draco felt ill. He coughed loudly, refusing to be subtle about his contempt for these two fools.

He and Pansy used to be a team. Together they had enjoyed insulting Potter and the rest of the goody-goody tossers behind their backs. It had made the day-to-day monotony of being an Auror less boring. Now she had to go and spoil it with all this flirting and googly-eye making. Disgusting! At least he wasn’t the only one sickened by it. He’d seen Granger roll her eyes at their meet-cute behavior and sappy endearments, making snide remarks under her breath.

Pansy glared at him until Potter began to speak, stealing away her attention.

“Malfoy, I know you’ve been working on this case for a while now but if there’s even a possibility that your cover has been blown, you can’t go on this mission. We can’t put Parkinson’s life or yours in danger.”

“What? I know this case better than anyone! Who could possibly replace me?”

“I’ll be going,” Harry stated.

Draco could see the grin on Pansy's face. He stood up. “Fine. Go. But whatever this is, you had better get it out of your system while you’re gone! I can’t take it anymore!”

He stormed off, leaving the stupidly grinning couple in his wake. He went to find Granger. She was smart and she couldn’t stand them either. She would have a strategy to end this Pansy and Potter nonsense!

That's What Friends Are For - Harry/Pansy

dollfaced — Mon, 12 Jul 2010 14:03:32 GMT

Title: That's What Friends Are For
Author: dollfaced
Pairing: Harry/Pansy
Word Count: 354
Rating: T
Warnings/Notes: swearing/cursing. Written for Round 3, Challenge 3 of pphp_ldws. Prompt was determination verses hesitation. Won Mods' Choice :D

“You’re coming, aren’t you?”

Pansy huffed. “To another boring Ministry function? I’ll pass.”

Daphne pouted for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “I heard Potter’s going to put in an appearance.”

“We had an agreement, Daphne!” Pansy scolded.

Daphne just rolled her eyes, ignoring Pansy’s implied death threat. “Oh, please, as if never speaking his name is going to suddenly make all your feelings for him up and disappear.”

“I don’t have feelings for him!” she screeched.

“Sure, you don’t. It’s so obvious.” Daphne chuckled to herself, shaking her at head at Pansy’s over-the-top reaction.

Pansy grumbled as she sat down next to the pile of dress robes strewn on Daphne’s bed. “You really think I should go?”

“Yes. You know you want to see him.”

“But he doesn’t want to see me. He made that clear.”

Daphne pushed aside some robes, making room to sit down. “Still, it doesn’t change how you feel. You want him. Go and get him. Make him want to see you again.”

“I don’t want things to be like that with us. And I’m not groveling. I didn’t do anything wrong. He’s taking what happened with MacLaggen out of context and refusing to even listen to me! ”

“No one said you had to grovel. You’ve snagged him once before and you can do it again.”

Pansy smiled. She remembered how it had felt, the headiness of new love, the teasing games of cat and mouse. And even after the rush of those feelings had faded, it was replaced by strong, soothing moments of love and comfort. She’d been happy, truly happy with him.

“You’re right. Damn it, Daphne, savor this because I won’t be repeating it anytime soon, but you are right.”

Daphne glared. “Brute determination really brings your claws out.”

Pansy only grinned in response.

“So, you’re going then?”

Slipping on a dress robe, Pansy replied, “Nothing could stop me.”

Daphne checked her hair in the mirror and then quickly grabbed Pansy’s arm. Before Apparating them away she, smirked and said, “I probably should have mentioned before that MacLaggen is going to be there too.”

It's All In The Hands - Draco/Hermione

dollfaced — Thu, 24 Jun 2010 15:20:12 GMT

Title: It's All In The Hands
Author: dollfaced
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Rating: R
Word Count: ~4200
Warnings: dub-con, light bondage, AU 7th Year
Notes: Written for makel0venotwar7 at the dmficexchange. A big thanks to my betas, akashathekitty and terrayn, for their input and total awesomeness.

“Miss Granger, will you kindly stop murdering the knotgrass root. You need to gently remove the seeds or they’ll be damaged, thus rendering them useless, much like Mr Longbottom over there.”

Hermione sighed and glanced over at poor Neville, who was still struggling to get the bottle containing the knotgrass root open. “Yes, Professor.” Shoring herself up for another go-round with the most impossibly evil root that ever existed, she grabbed a small knife and sliced down the middle, exactly as pictured in her book.

It was of no use. Bright green juice from the broken seeds flowed messily onto her desk. Frustrated, she murmured under her breath, “If anything is useless it’s this blasted book.”

“I heard that, Miss Granger,” Snape noted with contempt.

Hermione blushed bright red. She wasn’t one to talk back to professors— unless it was to correct them, of course.

“Come here,” he called her over. “Perhaps what you need is a demonstration of how to do this simple task correctly.” Patronizing venom poured from his words.

“Mr Malfoy, if you would,” he said, gesturing to the knotgrass root. “Demonstrate for Miss Granger here the proper technique for extracting knotgrass seeds.”

The evil smirk that spread across Malfoy’s face was enough to make her sick but coupled with Snape’s condescending attitude, she was sorely tempted to hex both of them. Still, knowledge came first. She really wanted to know how to retrieve the seeds. They were a crucial ingredient in forty-eight potions that she could recall on the spot and undoubtedly more she’d yet to learn. Malfoy seemed to know what he was doing, she thought, noting the surplus of seeds, enough for the whole class twice over, resting in a pile near his cauldron.

“I’ll do this slowly. See if you can keep up,” Malfoy said, grabbing his knife and an unopened root.

She rolled her eyes. “Just get on with it.”

“First, you need to find the right spot.” He examined the root closely. “There.”

Hermione leaned in. “Where? What am I looking for exactly?”

“You don’t see it? There’s a faint line running the length of the root.”

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed as the line seemed to suddenly appear. How had that not been in the description? That book was rubbish. “Is that where you cut?”

“Very good, Granger.”

His voice grated on her nerves but she shrugged it off. Anything to learn how to do this right. “Brilliant. Give me the knife.”

“No.”

“Give me the blasted knife, Malfoy.”

“Fine,” he said, handing her the knife. “If you want to botch it up again, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

She glared at him, placing the point of the knife on the faint line. Her hand shook slightly. She hesitated and sighed before giving in. “Okay, what is it that I’m missing,” she said, surrendering the knotgrass root back to him.

“Good girl.”

“Just shut up and tell me what to do.”

“Hard to do both at the same time,” he said, mocking her.

“Show me, would you,” she said, adding ‘please’ very reluctantly at the end.

He examined the root again, finding the crucial line. “You need to prepare the root to be cut open. It’s still alive.”

“Really?”

“Shhhh. Watch me,” he instructed.

She leaned in closer, focusing on what his hands were doing. They were slowly stroking along the line. The root rested gently in his palm. She noted that he made sure not to put any pressure on the sides. As he stroked, the line became darker and darker. She gradually became hypnotized by the fluid motion of his fingertips. She’d never really noticed Malfoy’s hands before. They were striking. With long fingers that weren’t too thin and were perfectly shaped. His hands were muscular and sinewy. Strong. Hard. Watching the way he moved them, so sure and steady, she felt an odd tingling sensation in her belly as he commanded the root to open along the now black line. He deftly moved his hand to hold the root open with two fingers.

“Get the knife and carefully cut the membrane covering the seeds.”

Her hands were unsteady but she managed to slice the thin membrane open without damaging the seeds nestled beneath.

“Good,” he whispered into her ear as she slowly moved to retrieve the tiny green globes.

Once she’d carefully removed all of them, he closed the root and discarded it in a pile with the rest. She had eleven seeds, more than enough for the potion. Immediately, she wanted to get back to her cauldron, to finish her potion and make notes on how the properly de-seed knotgrass, but she also felt a pressing need to get away from Malfoy and it troubled her that she could stop glancing at his hands.

Shaking her head, she murmured thanks and sprinted back to her desk.

She had to get those damn hands off her mind. They were far too distracting for her liking.

She was beginning to dread Potions class. That alone was alarming enough, but the reason why she was dreading it was the real cause for concern. She just couldn't get Malfoy and his bloody hands out of her head. She just couldn’t stop thinking of how they might feel against her skin. It was so silly. He was an arrogant git. Why did it have to be him? Couldn’t she just have heart-racing fantasies about Ron's hands or his calves— or his ears for that matter. Anything but Malfoy. Anything. It was an annoying infatuation. Maybe, if she could manage to somehow avoid Malfoy completely, she'd be okay. And under no circumstances was she going to give into her fantasies. Then again, maybe it would be good if she did. Fantasy was always better than reality. Wasn’t it? Yes, she'd built up what he could do with those long muscular fingers far beyond what was humanly possible. She shouldn't have allowed herself to indulge in such thoughts at all. Had she not convinced herself that she'd soon tire of the whole thing and permitted her imagination to run wild, she might not be in this predicament.

Maybe she could ask Harry to Obliviate her? It was a backup plan at least.

All of the dread and avoidance of Potions class had now made her late. She stumbled hurriedly in the classroom with mere seconds to spare. Grabbing the first available seat, she was too distracted to notice who she'd be sharing a cauldron with today. It didn't really matter anyway. She always ended up doing all of the work.

Settling in, she tossed her hair into a quick make-shift bun and dug her heavy Potions book out of her bag. She could finally breathe a sigh of relief and turn her attention to the professor and the day's assignment.

"Page seventy-two, Granger. Not twenty-seven."

Her heart stopped.

Malfoy.

Of course. Because her life could never be easy, could it?

She flipped to the correct page with a huff.

The next thirty minutes passed quickly. It wasn't nearly as torturous as she had imagined. They prepared the assigned potion in strained but productive silence. Hermione had done her best to avoid looking at Malfoy or his hands. And when she did, she pointed out all of the flaws. No, that scar on the back of his left hand, just below the knuckle of the ring finger was not sexy. And the way he firmly held his wand as he stirred did not make her knees weak. That was not the reason she needed to sit down for a moment and catch her breath. Nope, she was just fine. Just another Potions class with just another partner.

The potion complete, they sat there waiting for inspection by Professor Snape. She kept crossing and uncrossing her legs. She could not stop fidgeting. Tapping her fingers, biting her quill and making sly glances over at Malfoy, she considered this unhealthy new obsession of hers. He was leaning back in his chair, the front legs off the ground. Very unsafe. She had the sudden urge to tip the bastard over. It would serve him right for tormenting her by nimbly twirling his wand in and out between those fingers.

He flopped his chair legs back to the ground with a thump. "Have to use the loo or something, Granger?"

Her eyes flew wide open and her cheeks turned scarlet. Drat, he’d noticed she was uncomfortable. "No. I'm just bored. Usually I’m partnered with someone I can have an intelligent conversation with." She didn't even care if she sounded rude.

He chuckled loudly. "In this class?" He nodded to where Ron and Harry were struggling to measure out the correct amount of armadillo bile. Ron was grabbing the vial from Harry, who was pleadingly pointing to the book's instructions that Ron insisted on dismissing.

"I can at least discuss Quidditch with them without being called names," she insisted.

"You like Quidditch?” Malfoy questioned skeptically.

"No," she said weakly.

He leaned his left elbow on the desk, turning and moving closer to her. "I haven't called you names in years."

She gave him an incredulous look. "'Years' might be stretching it a bit. Besides, just because you're not saying it, doesn't mean you're not thinking it."

He moved closer and reached out play idly with her quill. She watched his fingers dance across the soft feather.

"Don't presume to know what I'm thinking," he said. She was taken aback by the curt annoyance in his voice. She brushed it off. He was probably just irritated that she didn't buy his whole redemption act hook, line and sinker, like all those other witches he was always surrounded by. Dwelling on his supposed— and she used that word in the strongest sense possible— reputation didn't do much to ease the tingling sensation progressively swelling in her belly at the sight of his fingertips brushing along her quill.

Then it dawned on her. She was building this whole thing up in her head, making mountains out of nothing and letting her mind swirl with impossible fantasies. What she needed was a cold dose of reality.

She needed Malfoy to touch her.

That would solve everything. First, she doubted he would even to consent to such a thing, not wanting to sully himself by touching a Mudblood. She shivered. The harshness of that refusal alone would be enough to cool her off him for good. But what if he did consent? He was a man. Men, when faced with such things, often let other parts do the thinking… no, it would still work. He'd touch her and his hands would be all clammy and gross. No better or different than any other wizard, giving her ample reason to stop this ridiculous obsession of hers.

Impulsively she turn to him and blurted out, "Hey, Malfoy. What you do if I asked you to...um...to touch me." Her was voice barely audible those last few words.

He looked confused for a split second before a sly grin appeared on his face. "What did you say?"

Panic. No. This was not a good plan. She backtracked, "Nothing. I... nothing."

He studied her for a few seconds and then leaned back in his chair again. Hermione was certain he was just going to drop the whole thing when he said, "You sure? Because I though you asked me if –"

"You're mistaken," she interrupted hastily, then buried her head in her book, feigning intense interest in Peltmoore's theories on increasing the potency of poppy seeds.

Minutes passed like hours and she wanted nothing more than this class to be over. She couldn't even look at Malfoy at this point for fear of what she'd almost let herself do.

"Where?" he asked out of nowhere, causing her heart to skip a beat. He had heard her, the prat! She was more than slightly embarrassed now. Not that anyone would actually believe him if he chose to tell. That could work in her favor. What did she really have to lose? Nothing, she reasoned. She’d be rid of this unhealthy obsession and no one would be the wiser. She was going to do it, she decided. But where to have him touch her? What would have the most impact? What spot was intimate enough to replace her fantasy with reality but not too intimate as to make her feel violated?

"My...my knee."

He looked her in the eyes and then his gaze drifted to them hem of her skirt. She slowly lifted it higher, inviting him to do as she asked. He seemed hesitant. Good. Her theory was right. He was disgusted at the thought of touching a Muggleborn. She held her breath, trying not to let that upset her too much. It was just Malfoy, after all.

His hand moved off the desk and towards her exposed flesh. His fingertips lightly grazed the spot on her thigh right above her knee and she let out a low gasp. Warmth radiated from his palm as it hovered over her skin. His fingers moved ever so slightly, making tiny circles. Finally his entire hand made contact, pushing his fingers slowly under her skirt. She had said knee, not thigh, right? Her assumption that when fantasy became reality it would be highly disappointing was completely demolished. This felt better than she ever could have imagined. He seemed to like it too, she noted.

He'd moved even closer and bent his head down to hers. "Like this?"

She could barely get the words out. "Yes. Something like this."

"So, you don't want me to stop then?" he whispered teasingly into her ear.

Yes! Of course she wanted him to stop! She couldn't just let herself be felt up by Draco Malfoy in the middle of Potions class. Was she really thinking of letting him continuing?! She wanted the answer to be ‘no’ but his hand felt like fire and ice combined on her skin and caused shivers to travel delightfully up her spine, making her insides scream for more.

"I want –" The loud snorting of Professor Snape interrupted her answer and she jumped off the seat and away from Malfoy faster than she thought possible.

The second the class was over, she bolted over to Harry and Ron leaving a few of her class notes behind. But she wasn't about to go back for them. Right now she had a blond git to avoid at all costs.

Steering clear of Malfoy was surprisingly easy. It wasn't as if they traveled in the same social circles. Whenever she had class with him, she made sure to get there early and always dragged Harry or Ron along with her. She told herself that technically she wasn't avoiding him because if she was, that meant there was a reason for doing so and she was intent on denying the existence of said reason.

She considered the library a 'Malfoy free' zone, though. He was never there. He probably had minions to do his homework. Poor minions. She had an idea how that felt. She chuckled quietly to herself as she read over Ron's Transfiguration essay, making numerous corrections along the way.

"Hi, Hermione."

She looked up. "Shhh, Harry. Keep your voice down."

Harry looked around. "Why? No one is here."

Peering over his shoulder, she noted he was right. The library was empty. "You should keep your voice low out of respect and... and on principle."

"Yes, of course. Think of the scandal. Wouldn't want Tubbard's Treatise on Trolls Volume One to hear me talking about how Volume Two’s been sharing a shelf late at night with Shelkin’s Stories of Sea Nymphs and Gnomes." For a second she thought he was serious, but then realized he was teasing her and broke out in giggles.

"I brought you some leftovers from dinner." He placed a small cloth napkin filled with a slice of mince pie in front of her. "You really should eat dinner every night." She noticed his sarcasm didn't fully mask the concern in his voice.

"I know. I'm fine." He looked at her doubtfully. "I am, truly, Harry. I've just been studying, is all." She smiled warmly, trying to reassure him.

It seemed to work, for now. He kissed her on the cheek and told her not to stay too late.

A few seconds later, she heard a rapping on her desk. Looking up, she expected to see Harry but was faced with the one person she most dreaded.

"Malfoy," she gasped. "You scared me."

He brushed off her accusation. "Hiding out in the library as usual, Granger?"

"I'm not hiding out. I'm studying," she defended herself, gesturing to the open book in front of her.

He slid into the chair beside her. "You've been avoiding me."

“Yes, because we usually spend so much time together," she scoffed, quickly schooling her guilty expression into what she hoped was polite disinterest.

"Don't play me for the fool, Granger."

"You're imagining things."

"I didn't imagine what happened the other day in Potions, now, did I?" he said, his voice both seductive and accusing at the same time.

"That was..." she cut herself off, not exactly sure how to explain what it was without completely embarrassing herself.

Her lack of answer seemed to anger him. "Was what? I saw you laughing it up with Potter and Weasley after class. Was it some kind of sick joke those two wankers thought up? You'll go along with anything they ask of you, isn't that right?" The seeds of truth in his accusation stunned her a bit. "We all know Potter's a poof. Probably had you make him some Polyjuice to fulfill whatever twisted and sick fantasies he has. I see the way he looks at me."

Arrogant git! She barely suppressed the urge to laugh because the notion was downright absurd. "Malfoy, you're barmy. Have you completely lost it? It wasn't anything like that. Harry doesn't even know it happened!"

Her reassurances did little to cool his glare. "I'd like to believe you. Truly, I would. The idea of touching Potter makes my skin crawl."

"I'm sure the feelings mutual,” she interjected under her breath.

He got closer, leading her attention away from what he was about to do. "I just have to know for sure," he whispered and then nearly shouted, "Expelliarmus!" The wand she'd been holding loosely by her fingertips, just in case, went flying into Malfoy's hand.

He quickly grabbed both her wrists and pulled her to her feet. He muttered the next spell so quietly she couldn't quite make it out, but the result was the appearance of a thick braided rope that swiftly snaked around her wrists, tying her hands behind her back and to a wooden support column.

"Malfoy! Untie me at once! You can't do this." She struggled but it was no use. The rope held her firmly in place.

"In fact, I can." Peering over her shoulder, he checked his handiwork. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just need the truth."

His words were far from reassuring. While she believed he wouldn't hurt her physically, whatever he did plan on doing was something that she obviously wouldn’t have consented to of her own free will. Maybe she could bargain with him? "The truth? I'll tell you the truth. Whatever you want to know. Please. Just let me go," she pleaded.

"You are going to tell me the truth," he said, pulling a small vial from his pocket. "But I'm not letting you go until after you answer my question."

Her eyes grew wide. "What is that?"

He floated the vial across her line of vision. "This is Veritaserum."

She gasped but once she regained her bearings she noticed that there was nothing in the vial. "You're bluffing. It's empty."

"Very nearly. Just one drop left. But that's all I need. You know that, don't you?"

He was right. It didn't take much. Veritaserum was very effective even in smallest amounts. "Where did you get it?" she asked, letting her curiosity win over her fear for a moment.

"I pinched it from Snape. The glass has a crack at the top. It's been repaired too many times. Spells are no longer effective. He was going to toss it anyway." He brought the vial close and she could feel the heat of his breath against the sensitive skin of her lips.

"Open wide, Granger."

She turned her head away slightly but kept her eyes focused on his. He just wanted her to answer a question. She could handle that. Answer him and get out of here. She could think of a way to make him suffer in retaliation later, right now she needed to escape. It seemed the only way that was going to happen was if she complied with his demands.

"If I do this, you'll let me go?"

He grinned. "Take it and I'll untie you. Promise."

"Even if you don't like my answer?"

He contemplated for a minute then answered, "Yes."

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth a little.

"More," he commanded in a whisper.

She complied and he slipped his hand into her hair. Grasping the base of her skull, bit by bit he pulled her head back. Then lightly rubbing his fingers over her bottom lip, he coaxed her mouth open even further. "That’s it," he murmured in her ear. She felt the cool glass, then a tingling sensation as a tiny drop of liquid hit her tongue.

He seemed to be in a hurry. Maybe he was unsure of how long the effects of the potion would last? She hoped it would wear off quickly. Perhaps there was a way to delay things.

No such luck.

“Why did you ask me if I would touch you in Potions last Tuesday?” he wasted no time in asking.

She felt the truth bubbling up and slipping out between her lips, “I wanted to know how it would feel.”

The answer seemed to hit him off guard and he pressed for more. “How what would feel?”

“You. Your hands. On my skin. Everywhere on my body. I just wanted to know if it would feel as good as I had imagined it would.” Heat rose on her face and she could feel her chest moving more rapidly as her breathing became shallower.

He smirked. “So you have fantasies about me?”

“Yes.” She turned her head away, attempting to calm her fraying nerves. “Please let me go now. I’ve answered your question.” He was obviously enjoying every second of her interrogation. It was as if she’d given him her soul and he was going to destroy her with it.

“No. Not yet.”

“You promised!”

“I will. I just need to make sure you’re telling the truth. Veritaserum isn’t infallible, as you know. We’ll call it a test. You like tests, don’t you, Granger?”

The sting of tears burned her eyes but she held them off. “Test!? But I’ve told you everything!”

“Shhh. It’s almost over,” he whispered soothingly against her cheek as he pulled her shirt free from the waist of her skirt, giving him access to the skin beneath. She gasped when his fingers pressed into the flesh of her waist just above her hips. His hands traveled higher and higher, his thumbs trailing small circles along the way. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes,” she moaned without thought. She didn’t even know if the Veritaserum was still working or not. This was what she wanted. Without question. He stilled just below her breasts, his thumbs continued their maddening assault on her skin. Part of her wanted him to go further. Touch her everywhere. Do everything she’d ever imagined. Take her right here and now in the middle of the deserted library. He surprised her, placing a fervent kiss on her neck. She whimpered loudly. His lips seared her skin in the most dizzying way as he gently sucked and nipped at her flesh. She was about to drift away completely when the reality of who and what slammed into her. “Stop,” she said with newfound clarity.

And he did.

She was stunned and under the surface, maybe just a little bit disappointed. The magical rope disappeared with a soft pop and she was once again free.

Breaking the uncomfortable silence, he said quietly, “I stopped.”

“Barely.” She was a bit angry. He’d had no right to do that.

“Right. Go on then. Tell Potter and Weasley all about what big, bad Malfoy did to you.”

“You leave them out of this.” The last thing she wanted was Harry and Ron knowing any of this. It was too personal. “I can fight my own battles.”

“So you’re not going to tell them?”

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s none of their business.”

He smirked. “That’s good to know, Granger,” he whispered into her ear. His lips lingered for a moment against the shell of her ear, before he went striding to the library exit.

Catching her breath, she slumped down into her chair with a sigh. She caressed her neck where he’d kissed her. This was not good. First his hands and now his mouth. She was doomed for certain.

What's For Dinner?

dollfaced — Sun, 20 Jun 2010 14:31:29 GMT

Title: What's For Dinner?
Author: dollfaced
Pairing: Harry/Pansy
Word Count: 299
Rating: PG
Warnings/Notes: Won Round 3, Challenge 1 of pphp_ldws :) Prompt was Optimism vs Hopelessness.

“You do know that you have no chance with her, right? Not that I even understand why you’d want one.” Ron mumbled the last words with his mouth full of crisps.

Harry groaned. Ron had an annoying ability to catch him every time Harry tried to sneak a glance at Pansy Parkinson. After the mistletoe incident at last month’s holiday party, Harry simply couldn’t get Parkinson (and that kiss!) out of his head.

“Even you have to admit she’s attractive. Look at those legs.”

Ron ceased stuffing his face to give her a second glance. “She got those shapely legs from kicking blokes in the bollocks when they come near. Seamus told me she’s a maneater, Harry. I think she literally eats men,” he said in a warning whisper.

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Plus there’s no evidence that she fancies you in any way. You have absolutely no hope of getting a date.”

“She said hello to me on Tuesday,” Harry offered.

Ron chuckled. “I was there. She said ‘Third floor, please.’”

“But she was looking right at me,” Harry insisted. “And it’s the way she said it. She wants me.”

Ron pushed his now empty plate to the side and stretched back in his chair. “Yeah, she wants you all right. Wants you dead.”

Harry dismissed Ron’s concerns, “That was years ago. Things have changed.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, mate.” Ron gestured to where Pansy was cutting up her lunch with undue force and waiving around her knife, caught up in whatever she was complaining to her co-workers about.

“I’m asking her.” Harry stood up.

“Now?” Ron sputtered but he was too late; Harry was already steps away from where Pansy sat. “Don’t worry,” he called across the crowded commissary, “I won’t let her eat you, Harry!”

Master List

dollfaced — Mon, 31 May 2010 00:45:50 GMT

One Shots

The Christmas Gift (D/Hr)
Castle (D/Hr)
Maybe (D/Hr)
Race To The Altar (PP/HP)
Pansy Parkinson's Perfect Plan (PP/DM/HG)
Restricted Actions (D/Hr)
It's All In The Hands (D/Hr)
Fifteen Minutes (D/Hr)
Advanced Potions (D/Hr)

Ficlets and Drabbles

Draco/Hermione
Getting Drunk
Caught
Toys
He Loves Me Nots
A First Date
Constellations
Research
Wooing Witches
A Simple Bargain
Rumors
Ideas
Closer
Dance
Haunted
Revenge
Magic
Fun
Threats
Now Theo Would Call That an Idiotic Pastime
Permission
A Real Mistake
Destructive Lies
Nothing

Harry/Pansy
Seeing You Again
A Lesson Learned
Her Changing Heart
Going In Blind
A Dangerous Operation
Requisition
What's For Dinner?
That's What Friends Are For
Undercover Schemes

Draco/Ginny
In The Kitchen

Draco/Asteria
Tiny Dreams

Neville/Pansy
Unspoken Arrangements

My fics can also be found
@Hawthorn & Vine
@Granger Enchanted
@Fanfiction.net

A Real Mistake - Draco/Hermione

dollfaced — Thu, 15 Apr 2010 17:52:07 GMT

Title: A Real Mistake
Author: dollfaced
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Words: 299
Rating: T
Notes/Warnings: Won second place for Week 52 at sortinghatdrabs! Prompt was "my mistake to make". Thanks to Kitty for the quick beta :)

“I saw you.”

“Harry, it’s not what you think,” she pleaded, grabbing his arm.

He shrugged her hand off. “I know what I saw. How could you do this to Ron?”

“This has nothing to do with Ron. He made his choice,” she said, stomping her foot.

“You were supposed to wait for him! It’s Ron, you know he just needs to make a few little mistakes before getting things right.”

“And I’m not entitled to make any?”

A tiny smile tugged at his lips. “So— you’re saying this whole business with Malfoy was a mistake?”

“Yes.” She felt acid burn her throat as she lied to her friend.

“You might want to sound more convincing if you’re going to lie to me.”

“But I’m not lying. It’s Malfoy. Of course it was a mistake,” she said, trying to convince herself as much as Harry.

“Hermione, I love you. Ron loves you,” he insisted. “Malfoy doesn’t. He’s just going to hurt you in the end.”

Harry’s words cut her deep. He was right, yet the way Draco kissed her and touched her made her want to trust him, want to believe his whispered words. But it wasn’t real. Like Ron. Ron was real. Ron wasn’t a mistake.

"Ginny's here. I've got to go. Remember what I said." He pushed a strand of hair back and rested his forehead against hers for a moment.

"I will,” she sighed.

She left the party early.

Draco was waiting at her door.

The moment he cupped her face and kissed her without a word, she decided that she was making a mistake.

When he pushed her up against the door, burying his hands under her dress, she wondered how many times she’d have to make the same mistake before it wouldn’t be a mistake anymore.

Requisition

dollfaced — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 01:51:53 GMT

Title: Requisition
Author: dollfaced
Word count: 399
Pairing: Harry/Pansy
Rating: T
Warnings/Notes(S): Written for Challenge 4 at pphp_ldws. Tied for 1st place but lost the tie breaker. But I'm very happy (and amazed) to have it to the semi-finals :D

Pansy tossed the parchment on top of her can-wait-until-later pile. Not that she actually did anything of significance for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. All her job entailed was the seemingly endless pushing of parchment from one sub-department to the next. Hers was a pity job that she highly suspected was given to her in an effort to “keep her off the streets.”

She sighed and blew a thin layer of dust off the desk clock Draco had given her. It was a gift for landing this dreadful job. If she had only known, she would have thrown it at his head when it presented to her.

Two weeks later he had dumped her. Because that was just the direction her life was taking.

She kept the clock. It was the only thing that seemed to be working in her life.

“Pansy, do you have that requisition form?”

She groaned before looking up. It was Potter, star of the Aurors, invading her space with his demands. It hurt less to pretend she wasn’t happy to see him.

He slid up onto the edge of her crowded desk and started to idly play with one of her quills. She abruptly grabbed it out of his hands. “I told you yesterday that you’d have it tomorrow.”

He ran his hand though his hair in mild frustration. Hair that was surprisingly attractive for being so hideously messy. “No, you said it would be today.” He caught her little lie.

She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have it so you can either wait until tomorrow or arrest me for lying to an Auror.”

“Arrest you?” he chuckled. “No, don’t worry, Parkinson. I get it. You like the handcuffs.”

If he only knew. She cracked a smile. Aurors didn’t use handcuffs. Seeing his smirk she suspected that he was teasing her and maybe even testing her at the same time. At least she hoped that’s what it meant.

“I’ll stop by tomorrow,” he said, rapping his knuckles against the desk.

She smiled and then slumped back into her chair. She was far too excited by the idea of that. Pathetic. He walked away and made a stop quickly by Weasley’s desk, making dinner plans at the Burrow no doubt. It hit her like a ton of bricks: despite all their flirting, wizards like him simply didn’t fall in love with witches like her.

Permission - Draco/Hermione

dollfaced — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 18:36:09 GMT

Title: Permission
Author: dollfaced
Rating: T
Word Count: 437
Notes/Warning: angst, littlest bit of dub-con, un-beta'd and written very, very quickly at work, yeah idk if that's necessarily advisable XD

(Permission)

Unspoken Arrangements - Neville/Pansy

dollfaced — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 15:55:16 GMT

Title: Unspoken Arrangements
Author: dollfaced
Pairing: Neville/Pansy
Words: 366
Rating: M
Notes: Written for sortinghatdrabs. Prompt was "I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too" ~Pablo Neruda. I've never written Neville before and I'm not sure I got his characterization quite right in this :/

“You’re late.” Pansy hissed the instant Neville closed the door with a soft click. It was after curfew and only the light in the greenhouse was that of the full moon over head.

“Sorry.” Neville pleaded, bowing his head to avoid Pansy’s harsh glare.

Impatiently tapping her foot she asked, “You brought them, right?”

“Yes… of course. Two perfect Gurdyroot seedlings, just like we agreed.” He stepped closer to hand her the pots. She gestured to the wooden bench and he watched as she examined the seedlings.

“Well, I wouldn’t say perfect.” Neville looked panicked for a moment before she added, “But they’ll do. Sprout’s not that much of a stickler.”

Neville barely controlled the grin from spreading across his face. “I want my payment,” he blurted out.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Anxious are we? You know I could pay you in Galleons. You could buy seeds or something; suck up a bit more to Sprout.”

“Take off your shirt,” Neville demanded.

The sudden command in his tone surprised her and she could feel her nipples harden in response to his assertive demeanor. One by one she slowly unbuttoned her top. Sliding the fabric off her shoulders, she reached behind her back to unclasp the white lacy bra she’d chosen specifically for the occasion.

For just a moment she let herself revel in the heat of his appreciative stare. “Close your mouth Longbottom, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” she snapped before whispering softly under her breath that they did this far too often.

He approached, keeping his hands close to his sides. “No touching,” she reminded him.

He frowned slightly. “I know the rules.”

“Good.”

“Remember what you promised this time. A kiss.”

She averted her eyes, avoiding his expectant gaze. “Yes, I remember. Now hurry, I don’t have all night.”

He came to stand in front of her and tentatively placed his palm against her cheek. She did her best not to lean into his warm hand. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you.” He leaned in and hesitated for a moment. “And because sometimes you love me too. You’re just afraid.”

“Is that what you think?” she chided, before kissing him tenderly.

Theo Would Call That an Idiotic Pastime - Draco/Hermione

dollfaced — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 13:42:53 GMT

Title: Now Theo Would Call That an Idiotic Pastime
Author: dollfaced
Rating: PG
Word Count: 199
Notes: Written for sortinghatdrabs Week 39 OTP Challenge and 100quills prompt Cold.

Draco watched her lying on the ground. Her eyes were closed and she seemed peacefully unaware of his presence. He grinned and edged closer. Her eyes fluttered open but closed again as she let out a soft sigh.

His anger rose at her indifference. He pointed his wand down at Granger, demanding her attention.

She looked up at him with a devious smile and swiftly grabbed his arm, pulling herself up. “Thanks, Malfoy.”

“Let go of me!” He pulled his arm away. “What the hell are you doing lying in the snow anyway?”

“Making snow angels.”

“Childish rubbish,” he muttered.

Seemingly unfazed by his comment, she stepped closer. “It’s not rubbish.”

Draco was about to show her exactly what he thought of it, when she whispered in his ear, “Rolling around in the snow is lots of fun, Malfoy. You should try it sometime.” Her breath was like fire against his cold skin and for a moment he couldn’t think straight.

Then she was gone. He watched her as she walked away. Suddenly she turned back towards him and with a quick flick of her wand the snow she’d been secretly levitating above his head came crashing down.

“Happy Christmas, Malfoy!”

Pansy Parkinson’s Perfect Plan

dollfaced — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 19:06:06 GMT

Title: Pansy Parkinson’s Perfect Plan
Author: dollfaced
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2080
Ship: Pansy/Draco/Hermione
Warnings: a tiny bit of fluff
Summary: Pansy's got a plan to help Draco realize just how much he wants her.
Author’s Notes: Written for vegetasbubble at hp_triangle. Thanks so much to literaryspell and akashathekitty for their beta work on this.

Pansy Parkinson had a plan. A really good plan. A fool-proof plan.

Well, perhaps it was a bit of a last ditch effort, but any plan was better than doing nothing. Besides something had to be done. Draco was pulling away from her. While they’d never been an official couple, it had just been assumed by everyone around them, that they were together. And she’d never doubted that eventually Draco would make things official between them. Now time was running out— they were nearly half way through completing their seventh year and not nearly close enough to official status for Pansy’s liking. In fact, she secretly fancied herself the future Mrs. Malfoy. She always had. And why not? She had everything a wizard could want. She was perfect for Draco and it was only a matter of time before he’d come to that conclusion too.

He just needed some convincing.

That’s where Mission Mistletoe came into play. It’d been a long time, too long, since they’d snogged. As far as Pansy was concerned, all Draco needed was a push in the right direction, and a nice snog, even if somewhat forced, would work perfectly. Okay, if she really thought about it, it was more of a vigorous shove.

Hidden behind a mound of snow, Pansy eyed the precisely placed mistletoe hanging from the tree branch above. She grinned. This was going to work. Draco would be walking down the road, any moment now, headed into Hogsmeade. She briefly wondered if he’d be alone. Ideally, he would be, but even if he weren’t, her plan was still guaranteed to work. The last thing Pansy would let stand in the way of her happiness, of true love, was Crabbe and Goyle.

So she hunkered down, waiting for just the right moment to emerge under the mistletoe, ensnaring her and Draco in a magical trap that could only be broken by a kiss.

Hermione Granger wanted nothing more than to get out of Hogsmeade and as far away as she could from two insensitive gits -- namely Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. So what if she liked to spend most of her time this year studying for NEWTs. They didn’t need to tease her endlessly.

She sighed loudly.

She was being somewhat dramatic about it all, but school and NEWTs were important to her. Was she wrong to expect her friends to understand that?

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the snow covered hole in the middle of the road and went flying into what felt like a tree. Soon enough she realized it was most certainly not a tree.

“Ouch!” she grumbled, rubbing her forehead.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry,” she muttered mindlessly. Her head hurt and she was trying to refocus her vision.

“You shouldn’t read and walk, Granger, it’s not good for your health.”

“Shut it, Malfoy.” She winced, trying to shake off the throbbing in her head. “I wasn’t reading, I tripped.”

Once her vision refocused she looked up to see him just standing there, laughing at her misfortune. Utter prat! She’d had quite enough of this humiliation. Giving him her best glare, she moved to step around him, only to find herself stuck. “What-” She anxiously tried to move again to no avail. This had to be Malfoy’s doing. Only an immature brat like him would play a joke like this. Anger bubbled up inside her. All she wanted to do was crawl into her warm bed with Crookshanks and a good book, not waste her time playing games with Malfoy. “You have five seconds to undo whatever it is you’re doing before I hex your most important parts right off!”

Seemingly unfazed by her threat, he smirked. “I’m sorry, Granger, I didn’t quite hear you. What was it you wanted to do with my ‘most important parts’?”

She scowled and pulled out her wand. Finite Incantatem seemed to be of no use. “This isn’t funny.”

“Don’t blame me,” he said, raising his hands in mock defeat and attempting to step aside. But it appeared he was frozen in place, too. “Bloody hell!”

Pansy’s eyes were as wide as saucers. Damn! This was not how things were supposed to go! Damn Granger and her clumsiness!

She tried not to panic.

This could be fixed. No, even better: this could be used to her advantage. Her eyes lit up. Brilliant! This was exactly what she needed. Draco would be forced to kiss Granger, and once she was gone, Pansy could swoop in, trapping him for a second time. There was no doubt in her mind that once Draco compared her kiss to the pathetic snog Granger would no doubt give him, he’d realize his true feelings for Pansy.

She settled in for the show. This was going to be entertaining. Watching Granger humiliate herself was at least number three on Pansy’s list of fun things to do.

“This can’t be happening,” Hermione said with a frustrated groan.

“What can’t be happening?” Draco said, trying to manually pull his left leg up using both arms.

Too forlorn to laugh at just how absurd Malfoy looked trying to extricate himself, she let out a heavy sigh and said, “Look up.”

She tried to read the look on his face as the situation dawned on him. She expected him to be more upset than he seemed.

“Mistletoe,” Draco said, stating the obvious. Hermione rolled her eyes in response.

And so Draco stood there and watched as Hermione preformed as many spells as she could think of— and Hermione Granger knew a lot of spells.

“Are you done yet?”

She sighed. The simplest way out of this was to kiss Malfoy, and that was something she did not want to do. He’d just use it against her. Eventually she might have to surrender, but not until she’d exhausted every other method. “Give me your scarf.”

“No,” Draco said, wrapping his finger protectively around the woolen fabric. “It’s cold and you have your own, besides.”

“Give it.”

“No.”

She rolled her eyes. He was such a child! “Fine. I’ll just take it from you, then.” Perhaps expecting her to use a spell, he seemed startled when her fingers brushed against the tiny bits of exposed flesh on his neck as she deftly untied his scarf. She pulled gently and the green fabric slid away from his shoulders.

Just before she could perform the spell she intended, he grabbed the hand holding his scarf. “I said, no.”

His eyes were blazing with anger. What the hell was he so upset about? He was the one doing nothing while she was trying to find a way out of this mess. So what if she took his scarf— he probably had twenty of them! She laughed to herself; no doubt they were all green.

She twisted her hand out of his, then took off her scarf and performed a spell to make it hard and straight like a board. Good— it worked. Wrapping the very end of Malfoy’s scarf onto her own, she performed the same spell. Her makeshift device might just be long enough to knock that blasted mistletoe down.

Granger was so impossible!

What was her problem? As if giving Draco a kiss was the worst thing ever asked of her!

Pansy never wanted another witch to kiss Draco more than she did right now. Her feet were cold despite the warming charm, and quite frankly, she just wanted to get down to the business of snogging and seducing Draco.

She sighed quietly and readjusted to a more comfortable position. Hopefully, Granger would get tired of this and just give in … soon.

Twenty minutes and one really irritated Malfoy later, Hermione finally gave up on her scarf-stick. It simply wasn’t long enough. She’d even managed to get a begrudging and taller Malfoy to try it to no avail.

If Malfoy weren’t standing there only inches away, she would’ve cried. Then again, if Malfoy weren’t standing there then there’d be no reason to cry. That made her want to cry even harder.

Pull yourself together! She just had to think of this like an assignment. Like she was making a potion and this was just a disgusting yet highly necessary step in getting the desired result. Yes, cold and clinical. That was the best way to approach things.

She looked at Malfoy and groaned. He was going to use this against her. He’d twist things, make them out to be what they weren’t, and use them to embarrass her. She could defend herself and counter his lies, but she wasn’t made of steel and she knew it would hurt, no matter how much she told herself it didn’t.

“All right, Malfoy. Kiss me.”

His grin was predatory. She had an awful sinking feeling in her stomach.

“No. You kiss me.”

“That’s not fair. I asked first.” There was always a chance he’d be reasonable for once.

“Thirty minutes ago I was willing to give you a bit of a snog, but while you were busy with your spells and your scarves I changed my mind.” He grinned. “I want you to kiss me,” he said, crossing his arms as if the decision was final.

He was really going to make her do it. She guessed that he hated her so much that he was willing to stand out in the freezing cold for hours and hours just to humiliate her. She wanted to just get it over with, but her body refused to respond. Minutes passed as she searched her mind for a solution that might have been overlooked.

Suddenly, she felt cold hands on her face.

“Sod it all. It’s just not worth it,” Malfoy whispered, leaning into to kiss her.

She took in a sharp breath as his lips brushed hers. He paused for a brief moment, and then his lips began to move slowly against hers. Her stomach flipped despite her protest, and she tentatively responded to his kiss. Her reaction elicited a sigh from Malfoy, and his hands traveled into her hair. Seemingly on their own accord, her fingers searched out the fabric of his cloak, gripping it fiercely when the tip of his tongue made contact with the sensitive flesh of her lower lip.

Devastated didn’t even begin to describe how Pansy felt. Draco was kissing Granger and not just a peck on the lips. He was snogging the life out of her. Pansy felt like her heart had been stomped on by a troll. This was not what was supposed to happen. Granger was supposed to kiss him, not the other way around. And he most certainly was not supposed to be enjoying it!

Time to take action. This had to be stopped. One quick flick of her wand, and a pile of snow came tumbling down on the couple below.

Pansy grinned.

It was the shock of the ice cold snow landing on her head and not the kiss that had left her breathless. At least that’s what Hermione tried to convince herself.

With the spell broken, she was free to step back. Malfoy seemed slightly dazed as well, but she didn’t want to let herself contemplate what he was thinking of all this. What she wanted was to get far, far away from Malfoy and his breath-stealing kisses.

Every second she wasted in not leaving brought her closer to Malfoy saying something horrible about having kissed her. She sighed and hurried away, ignoring what she thought might have been him calling out for her to stop.

“Draco.”

“Pansy?” He seemed surprised to see her.

“I was just heading into Hogsmeade, fancy walking with me?” Pansy asked slyly.

“Actually, I was heading back.”

She frowned then quickly turned it into a coy smile. “Okay.” She knew he wasn’t going anywhere with the spell of the mistletoe holding them in place.

Before she could even begin to make her move, Draco planted a swift kiss on the side of her mouth. “Mistletoe,” he said matter-of-factly, pointing to the branch above.

Stunned, she watched as he practically ran towards the castle.

“Argh!” she screamed into the nothingness, stomping her feet in protest. This was war! Pansy was a witch who got what she wanted, and she wanted Draco. No swotty know-it-all with atrocious hair and bad taste in friends was going to get in her way.

Now she had to come up with a new plan. A Granger-proof plan.

~fin~

Threats - Draco/Hermione

dollfaced — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 21:10:19 GMT

Title: Threats
Author: dollfaced
Word Count: 434
Rating: PG

“You deliberately switched the ingredients!” Hermione screamed at Malfoy in frustration. He only laughed in response.

Hermione huffed and stomped her foot. Sure, he thought this was funny, but she had a Transfiguration essay to write and didn’t have time to redo their Potions work.

“Listen up, you little shit,” she said, poking him in the chest for added effect. “I know where you live and I've seen where you sleep. I swear to everything holy that your mother will cry when she sees what I've done to you.”

“Now, how is it you’ve seen where I sleep, Granger? Have you been spying on me again?”

She blushed. That was not what she meant! Thoughts of Malfoy lying in bed flashed through her mind, causing her cheeks to brighten ever more.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She turned to look at her book, hating that he could turn her anger into embarrassment in a few words. “Let’s just get this over with.” She ripped the jar out of his hands. “I’ll add the asphodel this time.”

Muttering under her breath about just how annoying Malfoy was and how he made everything so difficult, she crushed the fluxweed with undue ferocity. They’d spent twice as long as necessary making the potion. Merlin, even Neville could’ve done things faster!

As they worked, he kept smirking at her as if he knew that the thoughts of his bed -- and what exactly he might look like in it -- refused to leave her head. It was very distracting. She was about to add three times as much fluxweed as needed before Malfoy leaned in to stop her. His fingers gripped her wrist and she turned slowly, keeping her hand as steady as possible – she didn’t think she could take it if they had to make the potion again.

He whispered, “Something on your mind?”

She glared at him and tried to pull back but he had a tight grip on her arm. “No.”

“You brought it up, Granger.”

“What – what are you taking about?”

“Where I sleep … doing things to me that my mother would object to,” he whispered suggestively as he slowly removed the fluxweed from her hand.

She watched as he added the correct amount and stirred clockwise five times. Before she knew it, the potion was complete and he was packing up his supplies. She began to do the same.

As she carefully placed her books in her bag, he leaned in and whispered against the shell of her ear, “Just let me know if you ever want to follow through with your ‘threat’, Granger.”

Haunted

dollfaced — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 16:01:46 GMT

Title: Haunted
Author: dollfaced
Word Count: 100, exactly!
Rating: PG
Prompt: ghosts
Notes: Written for pokeystar at the luvlikerocketz 2009 Trick or Treat

“Stop,” Hermione whispered against his mouth.

When she’d demanded to know what Malfoy wanted, she never imagined he’d understand it to be an invitation to take it. She couldn’t even comprehend why he wanted it.

Her hands pushed gently against his chest. After he made no argument, she reminded herself that, for him, this was just a meaningless dalliance.

Walking away, she felt haunted.

Days later, his lips remained like a ghost against her own. She was never without the thought of his stolen kiss.

She tried not to question why a kiss, that meant nothing, seemed to last forever.

Fun

dollfaced — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 13:59:32 GMT

Title: Fun
Author: dollfaced
Word Count: 630
Rating: T
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Notes/Warnings: AU, blatant use of a cliché, not very Halloween-y. Much thanks to Kitty for the quick beta. Written for pokecharm at dmhghalloween.

“I know Peeves saw us. Someone will be coming soon to let us out,” Hermione reasoned to herself.

“You can’t be too sure of that.” Malfoy chuckled. “Peeves is probably prancing about the halls, going on and on about how you trapped me in here so you could have your way with me.” He laughed even louder at the horrified look on her face.

He was obviously trying to bait her. Even if that was true, no one would believe such lies.

Deciding it was best to just ignore him, she settled in with a book while they waited – she was never without something to read. She silently praised herself for always being prepared for this kind of situation. It had certainly come in handy last month when she’d gotten trapped in a very similar broom closet with Hannah Abbot.

“But that is why you pushed me into this closet, isn’t it,” he said suggestively.

She huffed. “You’re impossible. Just be quiet. We’ll be let out in a few minutes.” It was like being trapped with a child.

He scooted closer to her and peered over her shoulder. “So, what are you reading?”

She slammed the book shut and pointed to the other side of the closet. “This would really work best if you sat over there.” He was too close.

“But I want to sit here.” Right. Of course he did. Whatever it took to annoy her the most.

“Honestly, Malfoy, I did not push you. It was an accident.”

“You positive about that?” he said, holding her gaze as he reached across her lap to snatch one of the books atop her pile of reading material. She held her breath as his arm grazed the tops of her knees on its return trip.

“Absolutely!” she said in a way that would leave no doubt in his mind. And she knew better than to believe that he actually felt hurt, even if he looked that way.

They both sat in uncomfortable silence for a while. Not exactly silence. Malfoy sure could make heck of a show out of turning a page. She’d never heard anyone create such a racket while reading a book. He was definitely intent on aggravating her.

The loud page-turning suddenly stopped and she could almost feel his glare on her cheek. The second she looked over at him, she knew it was a bad idea.

“ I am right,” he exclaimed, apparently seeing something in her expression that couldn’t possibly be there. “You want to kiss me, don’t you?”

No. She would never do such a thing. In fact, she’d never even entertained the thought of kissing him. Well, that wasn’t true, she reminded herself. Last month, Ginny had told her all in a tizzy about how she’d caught Malfoy and Tracey Davis snogging the life out of each other in the Quidditch supply room. Hermione blushed slightly, thinking about how she’d for a brief second imagined herself as the one being snogged. It was so annoying when her brain did things like that.

Malfoy move closer.

Flustered and her train of thought broken, she realized she’d left his question unanswered. “Yes.”

Wrong answer. He grinned triumphantly.

“No,” she said quickly, trying to correct things. But it was too late. His hands were already on her face, which felt surprisingly good. Protesting his advances might have seemed like a good idea but the words simply weren’t there. Before she knew it her eyes were shut and his lips were on hers.

The click of the lock being opened jolted her and she immediately pushed Malfoy away. He seemed unfazed as he leaned in to her ear and whispered, “Well, this was fun. Let's do it again sometime,” right before striding through the newly open door.

Maybe - One Shot

dollfaced — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 23:30:32 GMT

Title: Maybe
Author: dollfaced
Word Count: 2981
Rating: T
Summary: Captured and held hostage with no way to escape. Draco and Hermione must face death and each other. AU after HBP
Author's Notes: Written to accompany the artwork Undefined by avatofjelly for the hermionebigbang. Thanks to akashathekitty for her beta work on this and bunney for her sage advice ;)

“For Merlin’s sake, would you please just stop it!” Draco shouted. When Hermione choked back a sob he added, “Crying is not going to help, Granger. You know that.”

She did. No amount of tears would change things. Still, sometimes a girl just needed to cry. It bothered her that he never had, the whole time they’d been here. Trapped here for twenty-three days and never once had she witnessed him break down. Maybe he knew something she didn’t.

Wiping her tears away roughly, she spat, “What? Finally decide to talk to me again.” She had said something not so nice about his father and he had been punishing her with the silent treatment. Under normal circumstances, Malfoy having nothing to say would be a good thing, but with no one else to talk to, after two days of it, it was down right cruel.

“Don’t get excited. I’m still ignoring you. I just need for you to stop blubbering.” He plopped back down in the dirty overstuffed chair that made up one of two pieces of furniture in the room. The second was a simple wood frame bed with a thin mattress. They had fought over who would get the bed, of course. He’d finally agreed on taking the chair. She’d argued that they should take turns, but it seemed he insisted on disagreeing with her, no matter how logical and fair her idea was.

The chair had ended up being the better end of the bargain. She knew this because he’d allowed her to sleep there twice. It was much softer and more comfortable than the bed. For being so thin, the mattress sure contained the largest lumps. Not that either of them were in a position to be picky about furniture.

“Have you ever even considered the possibility that if we work together, we might come up with a way to get out?” He constantly fought against her notions about getting the hell out of here. He easily found the flaws in all her escape plans while never offering suggestions of his own.

Malfoy shrugged and gave her a look of disinterest. Argh! What a miserable git! If he wanted to be stubborn and difficult, let him. She could figure out a way out of here without him. He could rot in here for all she cared!

No, that wasn’t exactly true, she admitted to herself. She could never just leave someone here to die--not even Malfoy. But she wouldn’t mind him doing some rotting.

“Fine. But you’re being unreasonable. It makes sense for us to work together. What happened to Slytherin cunning? And use of any means?” He rolled his eyes at her. Throwing her hands in the air, she shouted, “I’m a means, Malfoy. Use me!”

They’d had this argument many times before. And apparently, for him it was no longer worth the trouble to fight back. He just laughed and shook his head. Surprisingly, she had to turn away to hide a smile. She couldn’t help herself. While she was still angry and frustrated, the sound of genuine laughter was pleasantly refreshing--even if he was laughing at her. Days on end in this dingy and dimly lit room were taking their toll on her spirits.

And he was probably right. At this point, she wasn’t even sure how she’d help if he agreed to devise an escape with her. She didn’t have much information that could be useful. She had been stunned with some sort of spell and hadn’t even seen her attackers. She assumed it had been Death Eaters. Malfoy’s presence served to confirm that. Why he would be a prisoner, she could even begin to fathom, though.

“Why is it you’re here, again?” she asked, causally moving to sit on the edge of the bed closest to the chair. The question had been burning in her mind for days. She’d tried to puzzle it together on her own but she had very little to go on.

“Nice try, Granger.”

He sat there, smirking as he twirled a chicken bone between his fingers. It reminder her of Ron and the way he used to idly play with his wand whenever he got bored. She choked back the burning lump in her throat.

“My father has fallen out of favor with the Dark Lord,” he stated, as if that explained everything.

“What does that mean?”

He hurled the small bone across the room. “What does it matter? It’s not as if you actually care, you just can’t bear the idea of not knowing something.”

She huffed indignantly. “That is not true!” She did care. Maybe her curiosity was greater than her compassion, but on some level she cared. “I care,” she added softly.

“Oh, my mistake. I hadn’t realized just how deep your feelings for me ran,” he spat back in a sarcastic tone. His eyes drifted from her face to her chest. Gah! He was truly insufferable.

This was going nowhere and fast. And she suddenly found having a conversation with him was simply not worth the effort. “Just forget it.”

She huffed and moved to the other end of the room. Pouting, she mumbled under her breath about arrogant gits, and how’d she’d be better of with old Voldie as a roommate.

Hermione watched as he walked to the far wall to retrieve the bone. He began tossing it in the air then catching it mid-descent. He glanced at her and slipped it into his pocket. Sighing, he said, “It’s pretty simple, Granger. My father was so preoccupied with reinstating his position he failed to realize my mother was no longer safe in her own home. I got her out but not without getting myself caught.”

For a brief moment she swore she caught a look of true fear and heartbreak in his eyes. Looking away, she focused on where the fraying edge of the chair’s fabric met Malfoy’s back as he leaned against the arm. She tried to imagine him doing something so self-sacrificing and downright dangerous. It seemed near impossible. He might be lying. He had no reason to tell her the truth.

“Why didn’t he just kill you?”

Turning to the wall, he took a deep breath before speaking, “Don’t worry. He will. He’s just waiting until my mother is found. He’s assured me that she’ll watch me die--her punishment for defying him.”

Her hand flew to cover her mouth, holding in a small gasp. She hoped he wasn’t as serious as he seemed. Voldemort keeping Malfoy alive for his own sick game of vengeance made her stomach turn. Pieces began to fall into place. From the beginning she’d wondered why she was still alive.

She now had reason to fear the worst.

A loud crack jolted her, interrupting her less than pleasant thoughts. She quickly glanced over to the source of the sound. A frail house-elf, trembling like a leaf in the wind, practically threw the silver tray from his tiny hands to the ground before disappearing with a loud pop.

“Food!” she cried, as she hurried to bring the tray to the bed. She watched Malfoy’s eyes light up as he sprung away from the chair. The elf had not come at all yesterday.

“Move over! I’m starved.” Grabbing a sausage, he shoved it into his mouth unceremoniously. She watched as he ate with abandon. Really, it had only been one day without food. He was being a bit dramatic. Picking up a second sausage, he hesitated before ripping it in half and shoving it towards her. Her stomach rumbled. She grabbed the offered food and her fingers lightly grazed his skin, turning the growl in her stomach into an odd but not unfamiliar flutter. Ignoring the feeling she chewed slowly, savoring each bite, and contemplated the severity of their situation.

“Do you think the elf will come again tomorrow?” she asked while watching the sun set slowly over the horizon. She’d always been grateful for the window. Although grimy and seemingly impervious to breaking, it offered a glimpse of the outside and a way to mark the passing of days.

“Probably. I doubt the goal is to starve us to death.”

The cavalier way he spoke about dying made her shiver. He had to be pretending. The Draco Malfoy she knew did not look mortality straight in the eye without flinching.

“You must be scared?” she asked cautiously.

He sneered at her probing question. “When it happens, I know that everything I live for will have been destroyed.” He shrugged. “It takes the edge off.” He was trying to be flippant about it, but she could sense some sadness in his voice. The sudden thought of losing all that she loved slammed into her chest so hard she had to think to breathe. She had to believe that Harry and Ron were still alive and working their way towards destroying Voldemort. That hope had never wavered until this moment. She murmured to herself, “I’d still want to live.”Looking up at him, she said more loudly, “You don’t mean that. Aren’t there still things you’d want to do?”

“Unlike you, Granger, I don’t need to finally get a proper snogging before I die.”

She blushed scarlet. That had not been what she was referring too. Although she might have considered it to be one of the things she’d thought of doing. But could he take nothing seriously!?

Watching her, he started to chuckle. “I can’t believe I’m right about that. Honestly, I thought you’d at least been dragged into a broom closet by that Bulgarian git.” Shaking his head he added, “So you really haven’t?” The question was painfully rhetorical. She hated that she was apparently so transparent to him. So, she’d never really gone out of her way to dispel the rumors that she and Viktor had kissed. In fact, she quite enjoyed not having the “never been kissed” label hovering over her, even if it were a lie.

“At least, I’m not a slag like some people.”

“Snogging doesn’t make you a slag,” he admonished.

“Hmph, I know that.” Her feelings and her ego were bruised. She wasn’t naïve, just inexperienced. “I get that you’ve shagged Pansy in every alcove of Hogwarts and twice each room of your house! No need to rub it in my face.”Huffing, she folded her arms across her chest.

“I didn’t even mention her! You brought it up. And I haven’t even shagged her once!”

She could tell the last part had slipped out unintentionally, and her eyes lit up with the newfound knowledge. A small smile graced her lips. It felt almost like victory.

“It wasn’t for lack of trying, Granger. Stop smiling and keep your mouth shut. It was my singular goal in fifth year.”

“Oh, I thought your goal that year was to follow Harry around, trying to get him into trouble?”

He grinned. “That was number two. Believe me when I tell you sixth year would have been my year if it weren’t for….” His voice trailed off.

She wasn’t all that eager to recall what had happen that year either. Needing a change of subject, she said hesitantly, “So it wouldn’t bother you? Never having done…that?”

Leaning in close to her ear, he crooned, “Why? You offering to ease my pain?”

She narrowed her eyes. As if she’d do that with him. And here of all places! Now was not the time for such things. Although, if it had been someone else maybe. She’d give someone like Harry just a kiss, possibly. It would be nice to be kissed. Other girls seemed to like it. She should have been more pragmatic about it. Mooning after a clueless Ron had gotten her nowhere but unsnogged and trapped with Malfoy. She couldn’t exactly blame Ron for the ‘captured’ part but she sort of did anyway.

Malfoy seemed to sense that she was not going to dignify his question with a response. “Don’t worry about me. Pansy did many other things that were quite satisfying.”

“I wasn’t asking to hear about your depraved sex life.”

“Depraved? Maybe you do need to hear about it, frigid bitch!” The chicken bone made its second trip across the room.

“How dare you!’

“Me? You’re the one flinging accusations and making statements about things you know nothing about.” He had his finger pointing in her face. “And you can just leave Pansy out of this.”

The way he defended Pansy took some of the fire out of her. She might hate the girl but Malfoy clearly didn’t. And as she didn’t actually know the nature of their relationship, she was wrong to call it depraved. She knew better.

“Sorry,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “You love her.”

“We’re close,” he sighed. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t.” She sunk down onto the bed. Discussing Malfoy’s love life only reminded her of her own disastrous one. When it came down to it, she was jealous. She envied that he’d experienced those things and her opportunity to do the same was in real danger of being taken away. If only Ron had been less…like Ron. Tears threatened to fall again. She curled up on the bed and turned to face the wall.

She felt the bed creak. He was sitting at her feet now. She listened to him breathe as he sat there in silence. Moment later he exhaled loudly. “Listen. I won’t lie. The snogging, it’s nice…more than nice.” Hermione turned slightly so she could see him better. “But it’s not everything.”

Grabbing the pillow, she rolled her eyes and buried her head. It may not be ‘everything’ but even she knew that it was something. Malfoy was lying to her, apparently trying to make her feel less pathetic. Merlin! She didn’t even want to know just how pathetic she was for him to try and comfort her.

Suddenly loud bangs and voices could be heard in the adjoining room. Her heart was racing. The shouting and thumping of footsteps seemed to get louder. Whoever it was, they were approaching this room.

“Granger, stand up.” Panicking slightly, she did as he asked.

He stood in front of her, less than millimeters away.

She couldn’t read the look in his eyes but he was staring intently at her. Shying away briefly from his harsh stare, she asked, “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

He shushed her. “Close your eyes.”

Looking at him like he had suddenly grown a second head, she asked, “Why?”

“Just close your eyes and don’t talk, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay. Tell me what’s going on.”

Sighing, he muttered, “You have to make everything difficult, don’t you?” Holding up his hand, he stopped her from answering, “Just do as I ask, please. I swear on my mother’s life, I not going to hurt you.”

The mention of his mother caught her off guard but it did, somehow, make things seem safer. Giving into her curiosity, she let eyes drift shut.

Darkness and the soft sounds of Malfoy’s breathing enveloped her. She could feel each of her nerves tingling with anticipation. Time passed with painful slowness. She felt his fingertips brush away the tiny strands of hair surrounding her face. She wanted so badly to open her eyes, she could feel them fluttering against her will.

“Keep them closed,” he said in the softest whisper.

She barely felt it at first, the softness of his lips against hers. Then he pressed closer. She made no move to return the kiss but didn’t move away either. It felt good. With her eyes shielded in darkness, she could focus solely on the wonderful sensation of being kissed.

Her hands fidgeted at her side, unsure of how long this would last or if she should be the one to stop it. The voices were right outside the door now. They seemed to be arguing.

He moved closer, deepening the kiss. Snaking his hand around her neck, he held it possessively against the base of her skull. It was a mix of emotions, the panic from the voices and the swishing in her stomach as Malfoy’s lips moved deliberately yet slowly against her own.

Tentatively, she reached up to place her palms on his chest. The frantic beating of his heart belied the leisurely way he kissed her. Grabbing her hand, he pressed something cold and hard into her fist. Seconds later as the voices begun to quiet, he broke away from her mouth. “There’s only a small amount,” he whispered in her ear. “Use it carefully.” Shivering, she glanced down at the small vial in her hand. She knew exactly what it was and how to use it. He’d given her a way out. Maybe. The potion, if she remembered correctly, rendered you invisible but was very weak, lasting only a few minutes per drop.

The door came crashing in. It was a blur of black robes and masks.

“Take him!” commanded a voice.

“No!” she screamed. A Death Eater, not bothering with a spell, pushed her to the ground, told her to shut up and promised he’d be back for her soon. A quick second shove caused her head to smack into the bed frame.

“Draco!” she screamed. Dizzy and unable stand, she crawled on her knees, frantically grasping at the legs of the attackers. Her efforts were futile, but she couldn’t just let them take him.

Within seconds, the room was empty.
She sunk to the floor, cradling the vial he’d given her. Methodically, tracing the edge of the paper label, she watched the door, waiting for her turn and an opportunity to use the potion. She didn’t have much time. They’d be coming for her soon. But she was ready. She had a plan: get out, locate Malfoy before Voldemort got to him, then find Harry and end this.

Tiny Dreams - Draco/Asteria

dollfaced — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 23:16:50 GMT

Author: dollfaced
Title: Tiny Dreams
Word Count: 100 exactly
Rating: PG
Notes/Warnings: Written for the Week 3 drabble challenge at draco_asteria, prompt was "dreams".

“I dreamt it was a girl,” Asteria said, gently stroking her belly.

Raising his eyebrow Draco offered, “It’s only a dream.”

“I know.” She smiled to herself. He wanted a son but he’d come to love a little girl all the same. “Before our first date, I dreamt of you kissing me.”

“Proves my point. We did far more than that,” he stated with a wink.

“Are you saying it’s twin girls?” she teased and laughed at the horrified look on his face.

“Right, I’ll just go get some Dreamless Sleep Potion.”

“For me?”

“No. For me,” he muttered wearily.

Dance

dollfaced — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 12:35:17 GMT

Title: Dance
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: swearing
Word Count: 499
Notes:: Written for Round 4, Challenge #8 at dramione_ldws. Prompt: "A life without love is like a year without summer." Well kiddos, that's it for me at dramione_ldws :( BUT I had lots of fun!!! :D and made it to the top 5, not too shabby, eh?

“Let’s dance!” Hermione grabbed his hand and dragged Draco to the dance floor, ignoring his grunting attempt at a protest.

“Granger, what are you playing at?”

She shushed him. Worrying her lip, and looking every bit like a schoolgirl about to give the wrong answer, she whispered, “Is he looking?”

Rolling his eyes, he craned his neck to try and spot the moronic occupant of her thoughts. “Yes.” Smiling affably at the glint of hatred in Weasley’s eye, he added, “He doesn’t seem too pleased.”

“Good,” she said, as she shifted in Draco’s arms, rearranging him to a comfortable position. He felt a twinge of annoyance that he was being treated like a cloak. “He deserves to be miserable. Treating me badly just so I’ll be the one to break it off. What? So he can limp about being the jilted one? ‘Oh, poor Ron’, I can hear his mother now. Makes me want to just … ” she trailed off, seeming startled to find him listening.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” Draco replied, feigning disinterest.

“Right, I forgot. You’re a cold hearted wanker who doesn’t give a shit about things like love,” she spat back.

He looked at her; she wasn’t completely wrong about that. After the war, the notion of marrying for love had seemed foolish, a laughable luxury. The Malfoy name needed to be restored. Who he chose as a bride affected the future of his family.

“I think I’m the one doing you a favor, Granger. Try not to be too much of a bitch.”

She glared at him. “Shut up and do your job.”

“Job? You’re paying me for this?” he said, chuckling.

She sighed, ignoring his jibe.

The song was slow, a peaceful melody meant for lovers. He watched her face as they danced. She seemed weary.

“You’re making a big fuss about nothing,” he stated.

She looked up at him briefly. He thought he saw her eyes glisten but then it was gone and there was only pity left. “You know what makes the rest—all of this—bearable?” she said softly. “Things are just things without it. That’s what makes the pain worth it. Because everything important really means nothing without it.”

Her openness made him uneasy. He wanted to laugh at her but the sincerity in her voice stopped him. “What? Love?”

She rested her head on his chest. “Yes, love,” she murmured. “I thought that Ron was the one but I must’ve been wrong.” When the music slowed nearing the end of the song, she asked, with a tremulous smile, “One more? I can’t go back yet.”

“Fine,” he said, pulling her closer.

Strands of her hair stuck to his skin, tickling his neck. Her warmth made their small corner of the room blaze. The feeling was pleasantly familiar.

Unconsciously caressing her back, he tried to recall when he’d felt this way before. Her warm breath cascaded over his skin, and then he realized that she reminded him of summer.

Closer

dollfaced — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 02:24:18 GMT

Title: Closer
Author: dollfaced
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 650
Summary: Set during HBP. Hermione sees Draco in the library.
Notes: Written for 100quills prompt 'Touch'. Not beta'd so beware.

What was he doing here?

The library was her sanctuary. It was late on a Friday night and Hermione truly hadn't expected anyone to be there. She just wanted to be alone, so she could wallow in misery. The sight of Ron and Lavender together had made her stomach turn. She needed to escape.

But Malfoy sat there, unknowingly invading her space. He wasn’t even reading the book that was open in front of him. He looked lost, troubled even. That’s how he had looked all year. She knew because she had been watching. Harry said he was up to something, so she observed him from a distance. Yes, it was best to keep her distance. Malfoy was dangerous. And not only in the way that Harry believed.

If she got too close, he would pull her in and devour her completely. He would make her do things that she knew were wrong. He already made her feel things she shouldn’t. He wasn't the kind of boy she should desire. He was cruel and mean, and he embodied all the things she despised. Yet, she had fantasized about what it would be like to touch him. Not in a sexual way, just a light touch placed on the top of his hand or arm.

What would he do if she touched him? Would he yell in disgust and push her away? Did he really see her as dirty and vile – a Mudblood? Or were those just words he had been taught to say.

Hermione stepped closer. The air was cold and she shivered slightly. The distance between them grew smaller and smaller until she stood in front of him. When he looked up, the pain that shone in his eyes made her gasp. Tentatively, she reached out to let her fingertips graze the surface of his cheek. She waited for the harsh, biting words but they never came. Instead of pulling away in horror he leaned in to her touch.

Embolden by his response, she cupped his cheek fully with her palm.

It seemed like forever before she removed her hand. She regretted the loss immediately. The feel of his skin against her own had started a fire in the pit of her stomach. It was a mistake. She shouldn't have done it because now she wanted to do it again. She needed more.

Cautiously he reached out and placed a hand on her hip. She sighed heavily, but followed the pull of his grasp. Unsure of what he wanted, she hesitated. Her desire was to be as close to him as possible. As if comforting him would soothe her own pain. With an abandon she didn’t even know she possessed, Hermione straddled him, wrapping her arms and legs abound his body as he sat.

He seemed grateful for her sudden daring. She could feel his desperation as he pulled her closer. For a moment she thought he might try something, but his hands remained on her back. Malfoy was pressing her against him so tightly that it almost hurt. And when he buried his head in her hair she had to suppress a whimper.

Time seemed to stand still as they embraced each other. Eventually, their breathing became perfectly synchronized. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Sleep would have come easily had her body not been ringing with electricity. She was keenly aware of every point of her that connected with him. Each tiny movement sent shocking impulses to her core.

She sighed. This would be perfect if only it mattered. But it didn't. It would be over soon and everything would be the same again. That realization pulled her back into the reality of the situation. Regret began to seep in. She tried to get up but he held her still.

Then, in the distance, Harry called out her name and he let go.

Enough

dollfaced — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 01:06:10 GMT

Title: Enough
Author: dollfaced
Rating: PG
Warnings/Notes: Written for Round 4 Challenge #6 at dramione_ldws and 100quills prompt 'Reach'.
Word Count: 499

“Granger, you’re rubbish at hiding,” Malfoy said, looking out the window at the night sky.

Panicked, Hermione pushed her back closer to the wall. How had he known she was there watching him? She’d been so careful not to make a sound. She waited for him to approach, but he never came. The corridor bloated with silence as the seconds ticked away.

Her resolve dwindling, she emerged from the shadows. He let out a hushed sigh and tilted his head to the floor. She could see the tension in his shoulders through the material of his robes, and without thinking, reached for him.

“Don’t touch me!” he snarled, grabbing her wrist.

Hermione jumped, startled that she’d unconsciously moved to touch him and strained desperately to get away. “You’re hurting me.” He gave her a hard stare, and when he tightened his grip, she spat, “Haven’t you hurt enough people already?”

He released her arm as if it were on fire, causing her to stumble. “Then get out of here. Go back to your little tower and shag Weasley or something.” He turned to face the darkness once more.

“No,” she said softly. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“There’s nothing to say,” he replied, resting his shoulder against the frame of the window.

Hermione approached him again, more carefully this time. Pausing inches away, she sighed. “Please turn around. I need to know.”

Silently, he complied. She gestured hesitantly to his left arm. Keeping his eyes focused on anything but her, he nodded slowly, his jaw clenched. Her hands shook as she slid the fabric up, exposing his skin. In her mind, she knew what would be there, but to see it with her own eyes hurt more than she’d thought possible. She stood in stunned silence, her thumb making the tiniest of circles on his skin as she contemplated what to do.

He jerked his hand away. “I told you there’s nothing to say. Now leave!”

“I can help. You don’t have to do what he wants,” she said, trying to catch his eye. When he finally looked at her, she stifled a gasp. His skin was ashen and the circles under his eyes stood out harshly against his pale complexion. Without hesitation, she reached out to touch his cheek. “I want to help you,” she said, worry and comfort lacing her voice.

He removed her hand, and then startled her by cradling her face. Seconds passed like hours as he pressed his lips delicately to hers. When he broke the kiss, her heart seized and she ached for more.

Resting his forehead against hers, he spoke, “It’s not just you. There are other things, other people, I need to consider.”

Images of his mother floated through her mind. She started speak, to argue that she could help him find a way to protect her too, but he stopped her.

Pressing his thumb to her mouth and dragging it lightly across her lips, he whispered, “It’s not enough.”

Ideas

dollfaced — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 13:16:48 GMT

Title: Ideas
Author: dollfaced
Rating: PG
Warnings/Notes: Written for Round 4 Challenge #5 at dramione_ldws and 100quills prompt Torn. I had a feeling this one wasn't going to do all that well in the voting and it didn't (but I'm still in). I didn't super love it either but it kind of grew on me after a while. Idk.
Word Count: 499

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Draco gestured to the elaborate decorations lining the walls of the Great Hall. His eyes focused on Hermione as his arm cut through the air.

She scrunched her nose. “It’s garish. Your father is just showing off.”

“He’s trying,” he stated quietly. His tone bothered her, as if he wanted to convince her that Lucius Malfoy was somehow capable of being more than cravenly selfish. Only a fool would think this Hogwarts Rededication Ball was anything other than a transparent attempt to get back on the Governing Board.

“Some people can’t be bought.”

The way he looked at her gave her pause and for a second she regretted her harsh words. She huffed and craned her neck to look for Ron. Where did he go? They were supposed to be there together. Maybe coming with Harry and Ginny had left things too open. Did she really need to spell everything out for him?

“He left.”

She flinched slightly and glared at Draco. “Excuse me?”

“You’re looking for Weasley, right?” Grinning, he continued, “I saw him leave. Not sure with whom … a blonde, I think.”

Her heart clenched, but she refused to show any weakness. “I was looking for Ginny,” she said, with narrowed eyes.

“Too bad.” He moved closer, his nearness making her uncomfortable. The room was already too stifling this late in the summer. “I would be willing help you with your little problem.”

Hermione snickered. “Ron and I don’t have any problems,” she informed him. Quickly searching the room again she added, “And if we did, I certainly wouldn’t come to you for help.”

“Just an offer.” He raised his hands in mock defeat. “No need to get snippy.”

Moving her hands to her hips, she replied, “And why exactly would you want to help me? We’re not friends.”

His grin became wider. “But we could be.”

Part of her wanted to believe he was sincere, the same part that knitted hats for elves and always had a good word for Grawp, but she stopped herself. Malfoy wasn’t some poor elf or homeless giant; she brushed off his gesture. He was just playing games with her, taking advantage of her momentary vulnerability. The prat.

“That’ll be the day, Malfoy,” she said, scowling.

“Well, have it your way, Granger. I’ll also be returning to Hogwarts in September and the offer still stands, for your Weasley problem … should you need it.” Then he leaned in close and whispered, his breath warm and heavy against her ear, “Think about it. I’m sure we could come up with a way to get his attention.”

The moment he left, she realized her heart was beating erratically. Watching his back as he disappeared into the crowd, she hated herself for even considering his proposal. Another quick scan of the hall confirmed that Ron had indeed left. Suddenly it occurred to her that Malfoy’s “plan” might have some merit.

No, being friends with Malfoy was simply a bad idea.