Chapter Text
“Snooping around about me, are you?”
She didn’t respond, her silence speaking volumes.
A slow, sinister smile curled his lips when he knew he got it right. “ Bad, bad Kitty ,” he taunted, his voice a dangerous whisper. “What would Potter think?”
“Fuck. You.” she bit out.
“That’s okay, Kitten,” Nott cooed, brushing a curl behind her ear with an infuriating gentleness. “I’ve been doing some snooping myself.” He reached into his pocket and held up a small black journal, waving it tauntingly in front of her.
Hermione’s heart plummeted. It was her journal.
Her dream journal.
Oh gods, no!
“Give that back! That’s private!” she demanded, reaching for the journal, but he effortlessly held it out of her reach, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
He laughed, a low, mocking sound that sent shivers down her spine. “ Indeed , once I started, I couldn’t stop. Granger, you’re quite the little sex deviant, aren’t you?”
He read it all.
He read the dream… about…. him .
“How dare you!” Hermione hissed, her voice trembling with shame. “This is so wrong—I’ll get you expelled for this!”
He tsked, shaking his head slowly. “No, I don’t think you will, love.” He waved the book again. “Unless, of course, you’d like this passed around the school. I did make a copy.”
She couldn't believe this was happening. Tears threatened to fall as her eyes burned. She couldn't believe she had ever thought she could be his friend, even for a moment. She hated him—hated him more than she could bear.
“You’re terrible! This is entirely inappropriate!” she snapped, struggling to wriggle out of his hold. “Let me go!”
“I don’t think I will,” he replied, his grip tightening slightly. His eyes bore into hers with a predatory gleam. “What do you say, Granger? Shall we test some of your little theories?”
Theories? Her eyes widened in horror. “You want to—what?”
Nott’s smirk deepened. “I must say, I found it amusing that you were working on a step-by-step guide on how to please you, but then I remembered who I was talking about.”
“Back. Off. Nott.”
“Admit it, Granger. We're more similar than you'd like to believe. But don’t worry,” he added, leaning in closer, his voice a low purr, she could smell the mint on his breath, nearly taste it. “your secrets are safe with me... for tonight .” He held the journal up and with a muttered word it blinked from existence.
Hermione knew she was in dangerous territory. But she refused to let him have the last word, even if it meant playing a game she wasn’t prepared for.
“Where is it?” she growled, tightening her grip on his wrist as he tried to pull away.
He shrugged casually, a smirk playing on his lips.
Hermione glared at him, disgust flickering in her eyes as she assessed him. “Fine,” she said, releasing his wrist with a sharp exhale. “Can we make a deal?”
“A deal?” he repeated, and by the sickening tone of his voice, she wondered if she’d just walked into his carefully planned trap.