Work Text:
Eighth Year Hermes Granger frowned as he reread another item on his Ancient Runes homework that did not make sense. Blindly patting the top of the library table for his Ancient Runes book, he mentally reread the sentence, this time slowly, trying to digest each runic number in case he had missed something.
As he quickly browsed through his text book, he could already imagine Harry and Ron cackling madly at the background, pointing out for the umpteenth time it was ridiculous for him to opt returning to Hogwarts for his eighth year when Ministry doors graciously opened for him. Both of his best friends chose to take up Auror training whilst he decided he wanted to return to Hogwarts to at least earn his NEWTS. The blokes tried to cajole him to join them in the ministry, but they knew once Hermes Granger put his mind into something, nobody could do anything to change it.
"Aha," he softly exclaimed, finally pointing out where he went wrong. He reached out for his red inkwell, still not looking up from his parchment.
Suddenly, a loud scraping noise across his table startled him, managing to knock off the red inkwell. Scowling, he watched as the red ink seeped into the cracks on his table and proceeded to glare at his noisy visitor.
Iris Malfoy, still clad in her Slytherin Quidditch robes, greeted him with a glare. Her glorious long, blond hair was held neatly into a French braid and for a moment, Hermes stared. Iris always wore her hair down, hair that almost reached her lower back. This was a nice change.
"Hello," he amicably greeted after getting over his initial irritation. He grabbed his wand from the table and waved the mess away. The red ink siphoned back into its inkwell and was good as new.
"You weren't in the Quidditch match," she pointedly snarled.
Hermes lifted an eyebrow at her ire. "I did tell you I don't plan on watching at all," he calmly reminded, unperturbed by glare. Merlin, he'd been the receiving end of such tantrums for the past few years. Truth be told, he was growing a little immune to her little outbursts. True, it evoked equivalent ire from her in the past but recently… well, she did look a little adorable.
Smiling silently to himself, he knew she would have a fit for being described as such. Hermes once pointed out she reminded him of Crookshanks. Cranky and snarly on the outside but once he gave them his famous warm hugs, they would soon mellow down. Iris Malfoy didn't particularly like being likened to his ugly half-kneazle. Still, the resemblance was stupidly uncanny.
"What are you smirking at?" she snapped, scowling at the expression on his face.
Said smile fell from his face as Hermes sighed. "Iris," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching at how she stiffened a little at his use of her first name. She had always, always been Malfoy to him until recently, of course. How could he still call her as Malfoy after everything they'd been through in the past few months? "I told you I don't like Quidditch at all."
"Granger," she whined, "stop being such a swot sometimes and have some House spirit."
"By watching Quidditch?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. There were other methods of showing House spirit, such as earning points for answering a question.
Malfoy gave him a withering glare.
"Gryffindor didn't even play," he pointed out matter-of-factly.
"Then at least support Slytherin, me, for Morgana's sake," she snarled in reply.
Hermes snorted. "I'm sure the snakes would have killed me with their glares if I decided to sit beside them and cheer for my secret girlfriend," he casually replied. Inside, though, his heart raced a bit, wondering if he already had permission to consider her as such. Of course after everything that had happened to them, he thought he already had the right to call her as such, but Hermes always did it silently. They never really broached about this topic yet, knowing that whatever their relationship was was still so dizzying. After the War, with the world slowly rebuilding back to its former glory prior to Voldemort's Era, they understandably had other things to focus on about – Hermes with his NEWTS and Iris to proving to the whole world she was a different Malfoy, a better Malfoy.
Their relationship was bound to happen. Hermes always knew that there was something, even before the War broke out. Their reluctant friendship was refreshing, exhilarating even, and Hermes wondered if they could have been more if they weren't blatantly from different sides and blood wasn't an issue. For McGonagall to make them Head Boy and Head Girl was just the proper nudge they needed.
The Gryffindor expelled a little sigh of relief upon noticing that Iris hadn't noticed his momentary slip. "You still could have watched from the Ravenclaw stand," she grumbled, crossing her arms across her chest.
His throat felt a little dry at how her mounds tantalizingly lifted with her action.
He hated the male brain sometimes.
It was totally unfair.
"I would have brought a book anyway and ignored the game all together," he pointed out after composing himself.
Iris made an irritated sound at the back of throat.
"Look, Malfoy," he explained started. He shot a look at his Ancient Runes homework and grimaced. He planned on finishing it today but of course, of course Iris Malfoy always ruined his plans.
(Exhibit A: He wasn't supposed to fall in love with her but he did anyway. Bloody hell.
Exhibit B: He was supposed to start his Potions homework after Ancient Runes but she chose that very moment to throw a tantrum just because he didn't watch her game. Bloody ruddy hell.)
"You know that I am terrified of flying," he continued, keeping his honey-colored eyes connected with her stormy ones. "Although I am properly seated on the stands, it still makes me queasy watching dots flying through the sky. It doesn't help that my girlfriend decided to be a bloody Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team. The idea of watching you zoom relentlessly in the sky doesn't sit with me very well."
He used that g-word. Again.
He wished that Iris still wouldn't notice it.
"Well your girlfriend," she softly replied, "would still love to see her boyfriend supporting her, even if his nose is behind a stupid book or if he was sitting with the Claws or… or… at least just…" She took a deep breath and frowned on top of the table. "I would have been really happy if you were there."
His eyes steadily grew at her small claim, not missing at all how she called him her 'boyfriend'.
Well.
His cheeks grew red, wondering if they were finally going to breach that specific topic in their relationship.
"Stop looking at me like that, Granger," she snapped, her grey eyes blazing with annoyance and embarrassment. "You look like a bloody tosser."
"Right," he said, willing his heart to slow down. Grinning widely, because how else was he supposed to react to that, Hermes reached out and held her hand.
Iris jumped a little at his blatantly public display of affection and surreptitiously looked around.
"This table is one of the most secluded in this library," he assured. "You'd know that if you studied more in the library."
"Unlike you," she started, "I'm not a swot."
"Of course," he snorted, remembering all the times he caught the blonde pouring through tomes of books in their shared common room. Iris once pointed out that as Malfoys, an image of swottiness wouldn't suit them at all. He always cajoled her to study with him, but she downright refused, accusing him that he'd Grangerify her if she followed him everywhere he went.
Smiling fondly at the witch that bizarrely caught his heart, he continued, "Sorry, love," he said, brushing his thumb across her knuckles. "I'd try to watch next time but no promises."
She was starting to mellow down and Hermes tried not to grin. "I'd study with you in the library if you start going to my matches," she bargained. When Hermes quirked an eyebrow, she snootily lifted her pointy chin and continued, "One time only. I'd rather you don't Grangerify me with your swottiness." She made a face. "Next thing you'll know, I'd be going around giving big, warm hugs to anybody that needs it."
He heartily laughed. "Now, that's a day I'd like to see," he cheekily replied with a wide grin.
To his surprise, Iris didn't bite his head off for that comment. Instead, said blonde placed her chin on top of her palm and gave him a playful smirk. "You know," she started, lowering her eyes and prettily batting her eyelashes, "maybe I'd like to have one of those 'big, warm hugs' of yours."
His eyes widened and before he could sputter out a reply, Malfoy was already standing from her chair and swinging a leg over his lap. Hermes stiffened and turned into a brilliant shade of red. His body was starting to react with her proximity, thoughts of their intimate moments in the common room, some broom cupboard, and abandoned classrooms flashing right before his eyes. Admittedly, he did imagine them doing some… erm, non-academic stuff in the library, books strewn haphazardly on the floor and with Iris lying on the table and looking so… so…
'Right,' Hermes said, trying to push his ridiculous fantasies away. Hermes Granger was a rational, brilliant young man. He didn't give in to his basic urges unlike the other boys in his year. He didn't think with his cock, which was why he was hailed as the brightest wizard of his age after all. But of course, as previously stated, Iris Malfoy ruined everything.
"W-we're in a library," Hermes lamely pointed out, clearing his voice.
Iris smirked like the true Malfoy she was. He always thought that expression was so annoying but Merlin, help him Merlin, her smirk nowadays made his head spin.
"Like what my favorite swot pointed out a while ago," she purred, dipping her head to place her lips against his ear, "this place is bloody secluded."
His Adam's apple bobbed nervously.
She placed a tentative kiss on the spot she knew always, always made him weak in the knees. Iris pulled away and looked into his honey-colored eyes. Her smirk now had morphed into that tender smile he loved so much.
"I caught the snitch today, you know," she whispered, eyes alit with happiness and pride. "Serves those Ravenclaw gits right." She leaned her forehead against his and sighed. "At least I haven't botched up Quidditch, seeing my track record of messing everything up."
He lifted his hand and placed an aberrant strand behind her ear. "You don't mess everything up," he softly, but firmly, replied.
She slowly pulled away and placed a perfectly manicured hand against his cheek. "Not everything," she murmured, warmly smiling at him. Hermes felt his heart flutter, knowing that smile was only reserved for him, and only him, to see.
"I love you," he blurted out before he could stop himself.
"You shouldn't," she typically replied, the smile still on her face. She glanced at his inviting lips and sighed. "I'm bad news, Hermes."
"You're not," he passionately replied. "Misguided, definitely. But bad news… no. Never."
Her eyes glistened under the flickering lights of the library, lowering her lips this time to finally close the space between them.
Roaring fire spread through his heart up to the tips of his toes. Her kisses always held warmth that was unlike the persona she kept on showing other people. She tasted of summer and promises, of vanilla and toffee and she made him feel… made him feel at peace.
"I love you," he murmured again, angling her head to kiss her deeply, desperately. She smiled against his lips, her fingers now clutching his wild curls she once pointed out resembled a bird's nest.
She never replied even though he had mumbled those affectionate words to her countless of times before. But that was okay for him, because he knew she still doubted he'd stay… that he was actually willingly spending his precious time with her because he wanted to. Her feelings for him were undoubted, and although she never replied in return, the small, brief smile she showed, the tender grasp of her hand, and the glistening of her eyes already told him what was in her heart.
One day, he was going to make her reply in return. He didn't care how long it would take but he was bloody sure he'd be sticking by her side for a long time until that day comes.
Abandoning all plans of finishing his homework tonight, Hermes gripped her hips and pulled her closer. Iris released a soft mewl, breaking away from his kiss so that he could plant his warm lips against her neck.
"You know," she breathily replied, "Quidditch tired me so. Maybe we should…" She took a sharp intake of breath when he suckled her collarbone. "Maybe we should return to our common room."
He silently waved his wand, his lips still pressed against her skin, and only broke away when all of his things were tucked neatly inside his backpack.
"Well," he said, a smirk growing on his face, "I know a place here in this library that is definitely secluded. Maybe we should check some books before going back?"
Hey, since they were in the library already, why not put his library fantasies into life?
"Prat," she whispered, slipping off from his lap. Hermes grinned widely and stood up, grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the secluded area he mentioned.
"But you love me," he said with a twinkle in his eyes.
For a moment, he could see her debating what to reply. He held his breath, heart beat quickening once more, but Iris merely shook her head and said, "Shut up, Granger."
Hermes chuckled and finally pushed her against a bookshelf and captured her lips.
FIN