Hermione didn’t quite know how she ended up playing magical spin the bottle at the Slytherin party. She had Firewhisky, Ginny Weasley and her own Gryffindor pride to blame. But the 8th year was supposed to be all about interhouse unity, and what better way to build new bridges than drunken silly games? So she found herself sitting in a circle with Ginny, Harry, Luna, Neville, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass and Draco Malfoy, of all people.
The rules were simple: spin the bottle and kiss the person it landed on. With a magical twist, of course: the bottle was spelled to choose the most compatible snog partner, and it wouldn’t move again until the kiss was completed. Be it a mere touch of the lips or the complete snog fest Pansy and Neville were now engaged in. Pansy and Neville…who would have thought?
She was relieved to see the bottle paired Ginny with Harry. Then it was Blaise and Daphne, then Luna and Theodore, then Daphne and Luna. Then Harry and… Theo ?? Who laughingly shared a peck on the lips while blushing furiously.
But all too soon it was Hermione’s turn. She tapped her wand on the bottle and made it spin. She couldn’t take her eyes off it as it spun, then slowed, then finally stopped in front of an elegant, long-fingered hand, adorned with a signet ring. She knew all too well who that bloody hand belonged to.
Hermione gathered all her Gryffindor pride and courage to look up into a pair of ice-grey eyes. She became aware that the circle had suddenly gone quiet around them. It seemed everyone was waiting with bated breath to see the outcome. But Hermione wasn’t one to back down in front of a challenge. That was what got her into this predicament in the first place, and it would be what got her out, too.
She slowly crawled to Malfoy, who seemed frozen in place. All sorts of thoughts started to fill her mind. How come the bottle deemed him the most compatible for her out of this circle of people? Did he even want to kiss her? Would he turn her down and humiliate her? Did he still believe in the superiority of Purebloods and was horrified by the mere idea of her lips touching his? The last thought sparked her temper and gave her the courage to close the remaining distance between them. But all thoughts flew from her mind the moment she felt his cool breath. She gently touched her lips to his and held still for a few seconds. She felt more than heard Malfoy take a sharp intake of breath. There, the bottle would be satisfied and she could be done with it.
Hermione started to draw back but just as she was beginning to turn away, a strong hand landed on her back and stopped her. She was firmly pulled back as very soft lips connected firmly with hers and began kissing her in earnest. She closed her eyes and all her senses fired up. She could feel the strength in the arm holding her, the heat emanating from his body, the coiled tension in his frame, his clean and sophisticated smell, his lips burning hers. It was an overwhelming, flammable, engulfing type of kiss, the likes of which Hermione had never experienced before, all consuming and all too soon, over. The moment their lips broke apart it was like a spell was broken, time resumed and somebody turned the volume back up. She became aware of wolf whistles and claps around them, but all she could see were startled ice-grey eyes holding her prisoner.
All of a sudden, everything became too much for Hermione. Apparently, her Gryffindor courage deserted her, because she found herself quickly getting up and running away.
What was that? What was he playing at? Was it a cruel trick? A new way to torment her? She couldn’t believe her response, how quickly she forgot her surroundings and was suddenly mortified by her eager display in front of everybody, with Malfoy, of all people. She wasn't prone to passion and to have reacted that way was so out of character, she couldn't help but feel deeply embarrassed.
She was just about to flee the dungeons, when she was suddenly pulled to a stop. Hermione looked from the long-fingered hand holding her arm to those infuriating ice grey eyes.
“What do you think you’re doing, Malfoy?”
He quickly let go of her arm.
“I’ve been calling your name, but you wouldn’t stop. Look, Granger, I just want to talk.”
She felt heat bloom in her cheeks. She had been so flustered, she didn’t hear him call after her. But then she remembered she was angry.
“What the hell was that, Malfoy?”
“What the hell was what?”
“You, kissing me like that. Was that some sort of joke? Is that your new way of humiliating me?”
Malfoy seemed taken aback by her question.
“What? No. Why would you think that?”
“Why would I think that?” Hermione laughed. “Let me see… maybe because you haven’t wasted a single opportunity to torment me ever since we first met? Maybe because we fought on different sides of the war? Maybe because you consider me your inferior? How are these for reasons? Are they good enough for you?”
“They are indeed very good reasons for you to think I would want to hurt you, but none of those reasons is why I kissed you like that.”
“Oh, then do enlighten me, please.”
Malfoy seemed to hesitate, growing nervous by the second. He started pacing in front of her, pulling his hands through his hair once. Then, seemingly reaching a decision, he stopped in front of her again and drew a deep inhale.
“I kissed you because I wanted to. I kissed you like that because I meant it. I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time, longer than you would imagine, or I would like to admit. I think the bottle paired us because it sensed my desperation. If a silly game is the only chance I’ll ever get to kiss you, then I will bloody take it and make the most of it. But admit it, Granger, I wasn’t alone there. You were right there with me, you enjoyed it as much as I did.”
Malfoy took another step closer.
“Admit it, the reason you ran away is you liked it as much as I did, and it scared you.”
Towering over her, she had to lean her head back to keep eye contact. As like before, all thoughts fled her mind at his nearness.
“Admit it, Granger, I didn’t imagine it. It was real, I was there. This is real.”
He lowered his head and kissed her once.
“Tell me what to do for you to believe me”.
He kissed her twice.
“Tell me what to do for you to trust me”.
He kissed her thrice.
“Tell me what to do for you to let me keep kissing you. Right now. And tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that.”
Each sentence was punctuated by a kiss and when she didn’t pull back, he deepened it with a renewed sense of urgency. One of his hands found its home at the small of her back, the other one snaked its way to her nape, entwining with her curls. The tidal wave of sensations started rising again and pulling Hermione under, overwhelming and scary.
“Stop. This is too much. I can’t think, I need to think. No more kissing. I can’t think when you’re kissing me.”
Malfoy pulled back slightly, but didn’t let go completely. “I’ll do anything you need, just tell me what you need.”
“I need you to take things slow.”
“Anything you want. Just give me a chance.”
Hermione looked up into ice-grey eyes and said the only thing that came to mind and felt right.
“Okay.”
A Magical Spin the Bottle reel