Here's a little something that was a lot of fun to write! It's EWE, Dramione, and there's some lemony goodness at the end, just as an FYI. Hope you enjoy! If you, please consider leaving a review and checking out other Dramione fics!

Looking for that perfect witch or wizard?
Someone to really get your potion brewing?
Then look no further than Magical Matches!
It's simple! Just fill the attached vial with your blood,
owl it to our headquarters,
and await your MAGICALLY MAGICAL MATCH!

*please include 25 galleons with your order*

The pamphlet landed on Hermione's face as she lay on the couch, reading a book by lamplight. She jumped, then scanned the front, before sitting up and glaring at her roommate.

"What in the bloody hell, Gin?" she asked, waving the pamphlet at her.

Ginny stood, quidditch gear still on, hands on her hips.

"You need to date," she stated bluntly. "The only time you go out is with me when I'm in the off season, and then you take a book."

Hermione bristled. "You're delusional."

"You're surly, and lonely, and I've had enough!" Ginny threw her hands in the air. "You listen to me Hermione Jean Granger, and you listen good. You're going to give them your blood, owl it in, and wait to fall in love, dammit!"

Hermione was struck by the similarities between Ginny and Ginny's mother that she found herself shrinking back before nodding.

Like a light switch being turned on, Ginny smiled and dropped her hands. "Lovely. I'm off to shower, then."

Hermione watched her leave before turning back to the pamphlet. She knew if she didn't do it, Ginny would go full-Weasley, and that was to be avoided at all costs. With a huff, she moved to her writing desk beside the window and took out a quill. She addressed a return envelope, included with the pamphlet, then retrieved the vial. It was small and reminded her of one of the tubes used to collect blood in Muggle hospitals. The instructions read: Place against finger tip and wait. So she did. It was a sharp pinch, but it was over in a few seconds. When she pulled the vial from her arm, it sealed on its own. She looked at her blood in the vial, swallowed a sudden lump in her throat, and dropped it into the envelope along with her name and address.

When Ginny got out of the shower, wrapped in a small, mint green town, Hermione was still sitting by the window, envelope in hand.

"Good gods, give me that." Holding her towel under her armpits to keep it up, Ginny secured the envelope to their shared owl, gave it the address, and sent it on its way. "Now we wait for your one true love. How fun!" She grinned broadly before turning sharply, sending a shower of water droplets from her hair into Hermione's face.

Hermione stared at the little owl as it disappeared into the night.

"Come on, mate!" Blaise lounged in a wingback chair, legs draped over the side, a tumbler of firewhiskey in his hand. "It'll be fun."

"You and I have very different definitions of the word fun," Draco said from where he stood by the bookshelf, looking in vain for a book that he hadn't yet read. His fingers hovered over the spine of one book - the first Muggle novel he'd ever read called 1984 - before moving on, looking for something new, something that carried less baggage with it.

"Come on." Blaise swung his legs to the front of the chair and threw the liquid back. "It's been, what, two years since Astoria dumped you?"

Draco shot Blaise an angry look. "Three years, actually. And it was mutual."

"Sure it was." He grinned. "You need to get out there!" He picked up the pamphlet he'd brought over and handed it to Draco. Again. Draco scowled.

"What can it hurt?" Blaise winked as he filled up his tumbler again.

"I don't need a dating service, Blaise." Draco turned to lean on the shelf, crossing his arms over his chest. His Dark Mark stood in stark contrast to his pale skin just below the cuff of his rolled up shirt sleeve. His home as the only place he didn't keep his forearms covered. The only place he didn't have to hide.

"All right, then. Let's go out! We'll go to a bar. You'll talk up some birds, use that Malfoy charm, maybe get a date. No dating service. Problem solved!" He sipped his firewhiskey, a glint in his dark eyes.

Draco's scowl intensified. "I can't, Blaise. I'm much too busy. I have missives to send, and I need to - "

Blaise shoved the pamphlet in his hands. "All it takes is a return address and a teensy little vial of your blood." He sipped his firewhiskey again and winked over the rim of the glass. "I'm not leaving 'til you do."

"Fine," Draco grumbled. He read the directions, plucked the tiny vial from the parchment, and pressed it to his fingertip. "Bloody hell," he said, pulling his finger away to suck on the tiny wound after the vial was full.

"Already filled out the return label," Blaise said, plucking the vial from Draco's fingers before dropping it into the tiny envelope. "I'll send it off, don't you worry." He downed the rest of his firewhiskey and handed the glass Draco, who rolled his eyes. "Let me know when you're matched up, mate! I'll help you get ready for your date."

Blaise left, envelope in hand, and Draco watched him, feeling very irritated, and very nervous. He looked down at the Mark on his arm and scowled before filling the tumbler in his hand to brim and downing it in one go.

"Do they give a name?" Ginny asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she read the letter from Magical Matches over Hermione's shoulder.

"No. It just says they've found a wizard whose magical signature is compatible with mine." She swallowed. "99.8% compatible. It also says that a good match is at least 80%. That very few witches or wizards have above a 90% compatibility rate, unless they're related." Hermione looked up at Ginny with panicked eyes. "And it can't be anyone I'm related to, because no one else in my family is magical."

"Why do you look so upset?" Ginny grabbed Hermione around the neck and hugged her, squealing in her ears. "This is wonderful!"

Hermione stared at the letter, her hands clammy.

"Gin," she said, shrugging her off as she shoved the letter in her face. "99.8 % match. That's. It's just ridiculous! I haven't been with anyone since - " She stopped herself before she revealed her one, tightly held secret. Images flashed unbidden against her eyelids. Pale, moonlit skin. Kiss-swollen lips. The whisper of her name against her ear.

"Do not let my stupid brother mess this up. It's been three years, Hermione. THREE. YEARS." Ginny rolled her eyes. "He's still dating that witch from the States, by the way. What's her name."

"Jen," Hermione supplied, letting her head fall into her hands, relieved Ginny hadn't noticed her lapse.

"Right." Ginny huffed. "Jen's a little too close to Gin, if you ask me. But no one did. Anyway, they're dating. She's dull, but he seems happy. And now it's time - well, long past time - for you to be happy! And you have a 100% match!" Ginny beamed.

"99.8%," Hermione corrected.

Ginny laughed. "Same difference! Now, let's pick out what you'll wear!"

"I have to respond, first!" Hermione said, panic welling in her chest. "We have to plan - "

"Then do it! I'll go look in your closet!" she squealed, practically skipping away.

Hermione held the results in her hand. 99.8%. With a hand that shook, she responded to the questionnaire at the bottom that would determine when and where her blind date would be.

"This cannot be correct," Draco said, turning the paper over, hoping for some clarification. He stared at the figure. 99.8% Magical Match! Impossible.

"Well, wouldya look at that!" Blaise laughed as he clapped Draco on the shoulder. "A perfect match! 100%!"

"99.8," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"A full 19.8% above the average." He grinned wolfishly. "You can thank me at your wedding." He laughed at Draco's incredulous expression.

"I have to fill out a date profile," Draco grumbled, flipping to the second page where a questionnaire about date preferences was listed. "I'm not sure. Astoria and I only went to the most upscale restaurants available. She wouldn't go anywhere else. We never even talked, there."

"Then think, in your wildest dreams, where would you like to go?"

Draco plopped onto the couch in his study and stared at the bold 99.8%. The last time he'd been with someone, it had literally been one of his wildest dreams. He still remembered the searing heat her fingers had left along his skin, the way she'd held him against her, possessively, as she'd come undone. It was the reason Astoria had left. Not that he blamed her. He'd been the one to cheat, and he'd told her about right away, hoping to leave himself available for the witch that had entranced him. And where had that gotten him? Single for three years with the memory of a one-night stand that he couldn't shake.

"I don't know." He looked up, eyes wild. "I can't go many places with this," he motioned with a snarl toward his left forearm. "But, I suppose, if someone was matched with me, they may have one too?" He looked both horrified and hopeful. "Oh, gods, what if it's another ex-Death Eater? That would be horrific." He put the paper, face down, on the couch and cradled his head in his hands.

"Oh, come on now," Blaise said, looking slightly less self assured. "It won't be." He forced a smile and Draco groaned. "Let's just figure out where you'll meet this bird. Worst case scenario, you can't stand her, and don't owl her again. Yeah?"

"Yeah. All right."

"This is ridiculous," Hermione huffed, holding out the pendant necklace that came with her latest Magical Matches letter. "Why on earth would they insist we wear a glamour on a first date?" She held the necklace up in front of her face and let the pendant spin. Rose quartz. The stone that symbolized love.

"Probably so you'll get to know the person first and not jump their bones when you see how handsome they are." Ginny winked. "We'll have to pick a new dress to go with that lovely rose, though. This red won't do." She stood with her hand on her chin, forefinger tapping her jaw as she thought. "Ooh, what about your green one? The wrap dress! It will be lovely with that color!" She leafed through hangers until coming to to dress. She retrieved it victoriously and held it up to the necklace. The forest green did look very nice with the rose quartz on a gold chain.

"Oh, all right," Hermione huffed. "I really would rather see who it is I'm going to be spending the evening with, though."

"We have a plan, remember?" Ginny handed her the dress and pointed toward the bathroom. "I'll be there, having dinner, watching you the whole time."

"Yes, I remember," Hermione said, through the open bathroom door. She slipped the dress on, tying the wrap around her waist. The sleeves went to her elbows and the hem to the middle of her thigh. "How do I do my hair?"

Ginny entered, a makeup bag in hand, and pushed her onto a stool in front of their vanity. "I've got this," she said, a determined set to her jaw.

With the frenzy of a woman on a mission, Ginny made Hermione up. Her hair - still a mess of wild curls - was pinned back and pulled up into a loose, casual bun. A few curls hung down by her face. For makeup, Ginny kept it light. A little mascara, a little gloss, a little rose blush for her cheeks.

"He'll still be able to see your makeup with this glamour, I think. But it won't really pop until you take the necklace off," she said as she worked.

"If I take it off. The instructions say to only take it off if we both decide for a second date."

"You will," Ginny said with a smirk. "There!" she said after applying the tiniest bit of shimmer to Hermione's cheeks. "Perfect. Now the necklace."

Hermione looked into the mirror, begrudgingly admitting that Ginny had made her look very nice. She undid the clasp and laid the pendant on her sternum, right above the small amount of cleavage her dress offered. As soon as it was clasped again, the air around Hermione shimmered, and when it settled a stranger was there.

"I don't look a thing like myself," Hermione grumbled.

"That's the point, isn't it?" Ginny said, hands clasped excitedly in front of her chest. "Now, move it so I can get ready."

Hermione moved to the full length mirror and catalogued her new look. Her hair was still curly, but it was blonde - a light, flaxen blonde that reminded her of Luna's. Her eyes, normally brown, were fair gray-blue, and her skin was flawless, but so very pale. And there was something else - she couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she felt very plain. Almost as if the glamour was intended to make sure the person seeing it didn't focus very much on what the person looked like. Her features, too, were plane. Not unattractive, just very average. Not at all memorable.

"OK Gin, I have to go, or I'll be late. Please, wave or something discreet when you get there."

"Break a leg!" Ginny called, using a Muggle phrase that Hermione had taught her that always made her laugh.

Hermione rushed out the door after slipping on her sensible flats, charmed gold to match her necklace, heart racing.

"Well, I look terrible." Draco said as he readjusted the rose quartz pin on his jacket pocket. As soon as he'd fastened it to his jacket pocket, he'd transformed into the most dull person he'd ever laid eyes on.

"Not so bad," Blaise said with a cheerful smile. "Besides, I think that's the point. Lets you get to know your date before you hop in the sack."

Draco scowled as he took in his new appearance. Mousey brown hair and eyes. Lightly freckled skin. Nothing to write home about. He pushed his sleeve up and his eyebrows rose. At least his Mark was gone.

"You don't have to come to the restaurant, you know," Draco said, adjusting his suit jacket for the tenth time, tugging at his sleeves and smoothing nonexistent wrinkles.

"Of course I do!" he clapped Draco's shoulder, and Draco smoothed the invisible wrinkles his hand caused. "Besides, I want to see the great Draco in action on a date!" He looked positively giddy.

"Don't get your hopes up," Draco grumbled, pushing his average brown hair off his average brown face. His features were rounder than before, which meant his scowl was much less intimidating. His eyebrows knitted together. "I'm going to be late," he said, checking his pocket watch. "I really hope I won't see you later," he said, and Blaise laughed. Draco left his house - a far cry from the Manor, but a nice house, nonetheless - and with a twist, he apparated.

Hermione walked into the restaurant - a nice little place, lit by candlelight with two-seater tables covered in red table cloths and crisp, white napkins - her nerves on fire. She held her clutch in one hand while the other fidgeted with her necklace.

"Er, Jill?" An almost familiar voice said behind her. She spun, recognizing the false name Magical Matches had given her for this date.
"Jack?" She responded, and he nodded. He wore a glamour, too, and his face was very average, but nice. She grinned and held out her hand.

"It's nice to meet you," she said and he hesitated only a moment before taking her hand and shaking it once.

"Yes. You too." He cleared his throat. "Shall we sit?" He offered her his arm and she took it, blushing slightly.

He pulled her chair out for her, and she smiled. He was a gentleman. That was a vast difference from going out with Ron, as was going to a restaurant that required a suit jacket and didn't feature Quidditch everywhere you looked.

"Well," Hermione said, looking around the candle that sat right in her way. "This is awkward, isn't it? How are we supposed to talk?"

To her relief, his plain features broke out into a smile, and he laughed. "Very awkward."

"Let's just move this," she scooted the candle over to the side. "And break the ice, shall we?"

"That sounds like a plan. You go first." Jack smirked at her and the expression was vaguely familiar, though it was hard to place with the glamour confusing her eyes.

"Fair enough. I'm not supposed to give away personal information yet, so let's start light." She smiled. "What is your favorite book?" Her eyes sparkled, even through the glamour, and Jack smiled.

"That's easy," he said right as the waiter arrived. "Oh, er, we haven't had a chance to look at the menu. Wine, Jill?"

"Please."

"We'll take a bottle of red, and a few minutes to browse the menu." He gave the waiter a nod, and Hermione felt impressed with how self assured he was. Ron had never been like that, always waiting for her to take the lead. And while she was a strong, independent woman, fully capable of taking the lead, it was nice to be able to share that roll with someone else from time to time.

He lifted the menu, looking over the top at her. "Back to that very important, and very telling, question," he said, smirking at her again as his eyes scanned the menu. She forced her eyes off the very plain man in front of her and onto the different meals. "I suppose, if I had to pick a single favorite novel, it would have to be The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "A muggle novel!" she said, unable to help the smile that spread across her face.

"Yes." He cleared his throat. "The last few years, I've discovered an appreciation for Muggles that I lacked in my youth." He glanced up, saw her smile, and relaxed. "Especially Muggle literature."

"Oh, I think that's wonderful," she said, grinning broadly. "I'm quite a fan of Muggle novels myself." Her expression turned quizzical. "But isn't Gatsby quite sad? I haven't read it in years, but in the end, he doesn't get his love, right? He loses his girl and his life. Even with all the wealth and fame he's acquired, he's miserable."

"But the reason he acquires all that fame and wealth is for the woman he loves." Jack shrugs. "I suppose, also, I'm a realist. Stories with happily ever afters don't seem as realistic to me as the ones with real pain do."

His voice was sad, and Hermione's heart leapt with sadness for him. She wanted to reach out and pat his hand, but the waiter arrived with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

They ordered their food, and Jack poured wine for them both. "All right, Jill. Your turn. Favorite book."

"Have you ever read Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott?" Hermione asked as she took a sip of her wine. It was mildly sweet and made her taste buds tingle.

"I have." He clasped his hands on the table in front of him. "Another sad one, if memory serves."

"Yes," she said, placing her napkin on her lap, "but what draws me to it is the character Jo."

Jack smiled as he cut the chicken on his plate. "She's strong," he says before taking a small bite. "Independent. But sad, too? I was always disappointed she didn't marry Laurie when he asked."

Hermione felt something in her stomach flutter. She'd never - never - been able to talk about literature on a date. It was exhilarating. "Yes," she said after another sip of wine, "but really, he wouldn't have been her equal. He was comfortable and familiar, and she loved him, but he would never challenge her. So she married Bhaer, who didn't push her to marry until she was ready, and who let her be herself." She took a bite of her own chicken, fighting back a moan at how rich the flavor was.

"I hadn't considered that," he said, chewing thoughtfully. "I suppose I always just thought Bhaer was a bit boring."

Hermione laughed. "Well, yes. He was far from romantic, but it's the principal of the thing."

He nodded, thoughtfully, then smirked. "That's a fair point. However," he said, pointing his fork at her, "I still think she deserved a little romance."

Hermione blushed, ducking her head. "I'll concede to that."

Draco watched Jill blush and felt a smile spread on his face. She wasn't much to look at, but he knew that was the glamour. Even so, he was enjoying their conversation so much that he didn't think it would matter what she really looked like. He'd never been able to talk to Astoria like this, not on dates, not in private. This was something he'd only ever experienced with one other witch.

As the evening wore on, Draco found himself more and more enthralled by Jill. She'd started the evening by moving the candle. It was a small gesture, but it wasn't something a pureblood witch would have done. She'd done it because she wanted to see him, to be able to talk to him. It was refreshing.

They talked about books, Muggle books, something he'd developed a great fondness for over the last three years, ever since 1984 had been left in his bedroom by the woman he couldn't get out of his head.

He pushed those thoughts away. That door was closed. It had been closed for three years. He wouldn't let those memories interfere with what was turning out to be a truly lovely evening.

He learned that Jill sometimes snorted a little when she laughed, and she wasn't afraid to laugh loudly. No giggling. No little simpers. She laughed. She was also extremely opinionated, and rather than find it annoying when she countered him, he found it invigorating.

"You can't honestly tell me you've tried every flavor of Bertie Botts," she said, leaning forward, pale eyes shining with mirth.

"I have!" he assured her, sipping his wine. The bottle was nearly empty, their dinner plates long gone, replaced with dessert that was quickly dwindling.

"But, there are hundreds," she said before taking a bit of her chocolate mousse.

"Three hundred and twenty-six, to be precise." He smirked as he took a bit of his own mousse, wishing they'd chosen to share one in the hope his hand might brush hers.

"How can you even know that?" Jill lifted her eyebrows in challenge.

"Well, after old Bertie died, he passed the company onto his son, Frank. And Frank is a good friend of mine. He let me come in and tour the facilities. Got to try one of each flavor."

Jill's smile grew. "And how were they?" she asked, her knuckle resting on her lip.

He laughed. "Mostly terrible," he admitted. "There are a lot of terrible flavors, and they really stuck with me for a few days." He grimaced and she laughed again, a sound that made him grin without meaning to.

Suddenly, the wine was gone. The dessert was gone. The other restaurant patrons were dwindling. Draco checked his pocket watch. It was already 11. They'd been here three hours.

"It's getting quite late," he said, suddenly overcome with nerves. This was the one part of the date he'd been dreading the most. Revealing to this lovely witch who he was, and seeing her horrified face as she fled.

"It is," she said, her voice overly bright, as if she too were nervous. "I suppose. Well, we have to decide if we'd like to do this again. That's what the instructions said." Her eyes were wide and she fidgeted with her napkin between her fingers.

He cleared his throat. The moment of truth. "I, for one, would very much like that," he said, fighting the urge to scratch the skin where his Dark Mark lay under the glamour.

Her tension faded as she smiled, brightly. "So would I. Very much." Her hand reached for her necklace, and he held up his own hand to stop her.

"Before you do that, I feel like it's best if you know who I am, first." She looked at him, confused, and he sighed. "This way, if you see me, and decide you'd rather not go out again, you can retain your anonymity. No harm, no foul."

She reached out and laid her hand on his. Where she touched him, warmth bloomed and he drew courage from her touch.

"There's no face you could show me that would make me not want to see you again." The earnestness in her voice made him believe her. He took a deep breath.

"All right then." With fingers that shook, he reached up and unpinned the rose quartz dove from his pocket. He felt the glamour lift and heard someone in the back of the restaurant curse loudly. He waited a moment before he looked at her face. As he feared, she looked horrified. "As I said, I understand if - "

With jerky movements, Jill reached back and unclasped her necklace, letting it fall into her other hand before she laid it none too gently on the table. The glamour shimmered and fell away to reveal the one person Draco had thought about for three years. Hermione Granger.

"Bloody hell," he heard Blaise exclaim say from two tables over, but Hermione didn't seem to notice.

"And now it's awkward again," Draco said, staring at her, feeling both elated and crestfallen.

"I should go," she said, moving to stand, and he held out his hand to stop her. He'd had one question he'd been burning to ask her for three years, and this might be his only shot.

"Please," he begged, "Just. Just for a moment more."

Her face was a mask as she nodded stiffly and sat, her back rigid.

"First," he fidgeted with his napkin, wishing she'd touch his hand again. "I want to apologize. For what happened between us. It was - " he blushed, cursing his pale skin. "It wasn't fair to you, to put you in that position, and I'm sorry."

Her mask fell away as confusion painted itself across her features. "You have no reason to apologize," she said, relaxing a little back into her seat. "I'm the one who...who - " she took a deep breath and he wondered how he hadn't recognized her mannerisms all night. "Who destroyed your relationship with Astoria." She breathed the last bit, shame coloring her face.

"Hermione," her eyes shot to his, wide, and he gave in to the urge and reached forward to hold her hand, which still clutched her napkin. Her fingers were stiff and unresponsive, but he didn't pull away. "My relationship with Astoria was over long before you came into the picture." He took her hand more firmly, allowing his thumb to brush her knuckles. "Being with you - " she blushed crimson, "just showed me that there was something else, something better, out there. It gave me the courage to end things with her."

Hermione's eyes drifted closed, and when she opened them, her sadness permeated him to his core.

"Is that why you were gone before I woke up?" he whispered, and she nodded.

"I - " she finally loosened her grip on the napkin and let her fingers brush his. "I was ashamed." Her eyes - the rich, warm brown he remembered so vividly - welled with unshed tears. She was ashamed they'd slept together, ashamed to have associated so intimately with him. He started to pull his hand away and her eyes opened in alarm.

"I wasn't ashamed of you," she said as if reading his mind, holding onto his hand tightly. "I was ashamed at having so little control. I knew you were unavailable, and I - " her cheeks bloomed crimson. "I was just ashamed that, knowing that, I let myself be with you."

Feelings Draco had long since buried rushed forth and he felt himself grip her hand more tightly. "I tried to contact you," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion.

"I know." Her hands were shaking. "I convinced myself they were angry letters. I couldn't open them. I still have them, though. I just - " a single tear fell. "I couldn't stand reading words that said what happened was a mistake."

"They didn't say anything like that," he said, leaning forward. "I just wanted to see you."

The waiter appeared, and both heads spun toward him. "Pardon me, but the restaurant is now closed. I apologize, but I must ask you to leave." They looked around, and surely enough they were the last people there.

"Oh, yes. My apologies," Hermione said as she let go of his hand and stood, flustered.

Draco stood too, heart racing. He couldn't let her get away again. He quickly paid the waiter, leaving a generous tip, then took long strides to catch up to Hermione, who was making a beeline for the door.

As they stepped out into the cool night, Draco saw Blaise, just across the street, standing next to who he thought was the Weasley girl. He would have to question that later, but at the moment he didn't have the time.

"Please, wait." She stopped, facing away from him. "I've thought about you, and only you, for three years," he said into the still night air.

Slowly, she turned. Tears left trails down her cheeks and he stepped forward to wipe them away, rewarded when she leaned into his touch.

"So have I," she whispered and he felt hope bloom in his chest.

"I want to see you again," he said, stepping forward so that they were only inches apart. Her eyes as they looked up into his were hopeful. "Tomorrow." He said, sounding more confident than he felt. If she rejected him, he didn't know what he would do. "Or, whenever you're free. Just tell me - "

"I want to go home with you," she said, setting her jaw. His heart skipped and his fingertips tingled with adrenaline. He remembered how soft her skin had been, how she'd molded against him as if she'd been made to fit against him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, breaths rapid. She tilted her head up, tears slowing, and nodded.

His hand cupped her jaw, and again, she leaned into him, giving him courage. Her face was so close he could feel her breath. "I've missed you," he whispered.

"I've missed you, too," she breathed.

He couldn't take it anymore. He leaned down and captured her lips and she responded immediately, leaning into him, arms going around him. With a thought, he held her and spun once, the loud crack of apparition echoing through the nearly deserted alley.

"Well, how bout that?" Blaise asked, eyes wide and a smile on his face.

"It makes so much sense now," Ginny said, shaking her head. "She's been hung up on him for - "

"Three years?" Blaise asked, and Ginny nodded.

"She thought I didn't know. But of course I knew. I just didn't know who."

"Draco, too. Terrible liar, that one." He looked back to the empty street where their friends had been. He had planned on going back to Draco's, but now didn't seem like the best time. "Well, it's not even midnight yet. Fancy getting a drink somewhere, Weasley?" He waggled his eyebrows at her and she studied him with shrewd eyes.

"Only if you're paying, Zabini."

He grinned wolfishly and offered her his arm. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

With another crack, Draco and Hermione landed just outside the wards that surrounded his home. He gripped her face, kissing her deeply, before pulling away and staring into her eyes.

Hermione felt the loss and withheld a groan. She stared into steely gray and let herself feel how much she'd truly missed him.

"I need to know - " he said, his hot breath hitting her damp limps, contrasting with the cool night air, "that when I wake up, you'll still be here."

The raw emotion in his eyes wrecked her. She put her hands on his face, rubbing his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs. "I promise."

His expression softened and he pulled her lips to his again, his kiss giving a promise of more to come.

He took her hand, leaving her breathless as he pulled away, and led her inside.

His house was just as she remembered - neat, modern, and stylish. He whisked her in, kicking the door closed behind him, and kissed her again in the entryway as the lights automatically came on.

"Er, do you want something to drink?" He kissed her. "Or, something to eat?" He kissed her again.

"We can eat later," she breathed, wrapping arms around him. "Right now, I just want you."

He growled as he kissed her, teeth knocking together. He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her dress scooting to the tops of her thighs. He squeezed her hips as he trailed kisses down her jaw toward her neck. She moaned as he rushed down the hall to his bedroom.

He licked and nipped at her neck as she let her hands get lost in his silky soft hair. When he stopped beside the bed, so slid down so that she was on her feet again, body still pressed to his. She kicked off her flats, breathing hard.

He took a step back, chest heaving, and Hermione was overcome with confidence. She met his eyes, seeing fire in their steely depths, and slowly untied her dress. The tie at the waist gave way and she unwrapped it, opening it to reveal her matching, modest underthings. She slipped it down her arms and let it puddle on the floor behind her. He stepped forward, large hands spanning her stomach and sliding to her back. He placed gentle kisses on her neck and down her shoulder, making her shiver.

As he kissed her, she slid his jacket off his shoulders, missing the heat of his hands as soon as she slipped his sleeves down. He touched her again as soon as he could and she set to work on his shirt's buttons, trying not to break any thread in her haste.

As his shirt left his shoulders, he stiffened, and her hand immediately went to his Dark Mark, covering it as she pressed her chest against his. She pulled back enough to pull his arm up. She kissed his palm before placing it on her cheek, Dark Mark glaring in the moonlight.

With sure fingers, she unbuckled his belt and undid his button and zipper. His pants slid down and he stepped out of them, shoes and socks already discarded. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs and slid them down, feeling the warm, smooth skin of his bum under her fingers. He shivered before his hands slipped behind her back to unhook her bra.

As it fell away, they both stilled. Only one clothing item was still between them, and Hermione shivered at the prospect of removing it.

Draco pulled back and held her at arms length. A spike of panic lanced through her chest, until she saw that he was standing back to look at her, to really look at her, and his eyes were on fire. She felt her body blush and he smiled.

With a shy smile of her own, she slipped her panties off and kicked them aside.

His chest heaved as he looked at her. She took a moment to admire his lean frame, his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The subtle lines of abdominal muscles that trailed down toward his manhood, which stood erect. If she hadn't already slept with him, the size of him would have intimidated her, but as it was, she couldn't wait to experience feeling all of him again.

"Tell me again," he said, closing the space between them, his fingers barely brushing her sides as his lips teased her ear. "That you'll be here when I wake up." He leaned back, their noses almost touching.

"I'll stay," she said, feeling her breath catch, knowing he wanted her to stay. For three years she'd convinced herself she had left him before he woke for his sake, that he didn't want her, and she ached with the loss of all that time. "I'm not going anywhere."

He was on her then, hands everywhere, lips everywhere, body flush with hers.

She gasped as he fell with her on the bed. She wrapped her limbs around him, wanting to hold him as tightly as she could. His hand cupped her bum, squeezing and she felt her hips buck, grinding into his leg. She nipped at his neck, placing open mouthed kisses across one shoulder. Her nails raked his back his back and his growled into her skin where he kissed and licked and bit.

With one hand, he reached between them and stroked her, causing her to moan, her head falling back. When he slipped a single finger inside her, she gasped, nails digging into his back.

He took her breast in his mouth, his free hand caressing the other, all while slowly working her into a frenzy as he added a second finger to the first. She reached down then, wrapped her fingers around him, and his hips jerked forward as if of their own volition.

"Draco," she whispered as he curled his finger, her thighs clenching around his leg and his hands. She wiggled against him as he moved in and out, his palm pressing her. "Draco, please." He released her breast from his mouth and leaned back to look at her. Her hand squeezed him as her other hand found his neck, weaving her fingers in his hair.

"I need you," she breathed, pressing her belly into his. He curled his finger once, eliciting a moan, more before pulling his hand away and moving so that he was lying between her legs. Where their skin touched was on fire. Draco propped himself up on his hands, his arms caging her face. Hermione lay there, bathed in moonlight, wondering how she'd found herself back here.

The first time had been frenzied. They'd ripped at each other's clothes, and crashed together like waves in a violent storm.

This time, Draco looked down at her with a question in his eyes. She'd hurt him when she left. She'd hurt herself. She'd thought she was doing them both a favor, but she'd been so wrong. Now, every touch was like a healing balm.

On her right, Draco's left arm stood, muscles and tendons taut. His Mark. The part of him he was most ashamed of. The first time they'd been together, he'd tried to keep his shirt on, and she had made him take it off. She'd ignored the Mark then, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable.

Tonight, she turned her face and reached up with her opposite hand to trace the ugly lines. He winced and she lifted her head to kiss his arm, to press her cheek against it. It was just ink, the magic having faded when the monster that branded him had died. She kissed it again, then reached up and pulled his face to hers.

As their lips met, he slowly slipped inside her. She gasped into his mouth, eyes and mouth wide.

"I've missed you, Hermione," he growled into her ear as he began to move. She gasped with each thrust, her hands going to his shoulders, her legs lifting to wrap around him, to draw him deeper. "Every day," he said, picking up his speed. As he moved faster, she moved with him, starting to meet his movements with her own. "Gods. Every damn day."

The pain of his words struck a chord inside her and she gripped him tighter, wanting to pull him even closer.

She opened her mouth to respond, but every time he thrust into her, she lost her breath. So instead she kissed his neck, kissed his face, kissed his lips as tenderly as she'd ever kissed anyone, wanting to convey that feeling through every touch.

He increased his speed, lifting her hips slightly. Her gasps became moans as heat built in her belly. She let her head fall back as he kissed her chest, his hands firm and on her hips as their bodies collided over and over.

"Draco," she breathed, hands going into her hair as he brought her to the edge. "Oh, gods. Draco!" She pulled at her hair then shot forward, wrapping around his neck. She pressed her forehead to his as stars exploded behind her eyes. She felt her breath catch, felt her body go rigid, as wave after wave of sensation coursed through her limbs.

As she rode this wave, she felt him press into her, crying out her name, before he went limp.

They lay, tangled together, for a long moment. Draco lay in her curls, breathing deeply. Hermione stared up at the ceiling, smiling, trying to catch her breath as his breaths synced up with hers. Their bodies were slick with sweat where they touched and Hermione trailed her fingers along his shoulder blades, loving the feel of his weight on her, the feel of his smooth skin.

After his breathing was back to normal, he leaned up, arms shaking slightly. She pushed him so that he was on his back and she scooted to lean her head on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her and she rested her hand above his heart.

"I'm sorry I left last time," she said, and his grip on her waist tightened. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

He leaned down and kissed her hair. "I know. I'm just glad you're here again."

She nodded, burrowing into him. He hooked an oversized afghan at the foot of the bed and dragged it over them, leaving one foot out as Hermione pulled it up to her shoulder.

"Just don't leave again," he said, and she smiled.

"I wouldn't dream of it." She yawned and gripped him tighter, her eyes drifting closed.

"I really can't believe it," Ginny said, peeking into Draco's bedroom and seeing her friend, wrapped in Draco Malfoy's arms, hair tangled and wild. Their legs were askew, their bodies barely covered by a blanket.

"Why not?" Blaise said from where he leaned against the hallway wall, sipping a cup of rich, black coffee. "I've always heard opposites attract." He winked at her.

She rolled her eyes and took the coffee from his hands, taking a sip. "I just can't believe that Malfoy was the guy she hooked up with three years ago. She was a wreck for weeks after that. Months, even. She told us it was because of Ron, but I know my brother, and I knew them together, and it definitely wasn't because of him."

"She's a lioness in a snake pit," he said, taking his coffee back and smirking at her over the rim of the cup. "That a frightening place for a feline to be," he said, his breath pushing the steam from the coffee toward here. She scoffed and put her hands on her hips, his dress shirt from the night before barely brushing her thighs.

"Oh, yes. Terribly frightening," she said, flipping her long red hair over her shoulder. "I'm shaking in my boots."

With a wolfish grin, Blaise sat the coffee on the floor and grabbed her around the waist, hoisting her over his shoulder.

"You aren't wearing boots, witch," he said, slapping her bum playfully and earning a laugh. They disappeared down the hall and closed the door to the guest room behind them.

Draco woke to the smell of coffee, which meant Blaise was here somewhere, and the feeling of a warm, soft body pressed against his. He pulled her closer and felt her wake. He waited with baited breath for her to panic and leave, wanting to savor this moment as long as he could.

Instead, he felt her stretch alongside him and crawl up so that her nose was pressed against his cheek. She kissed his cheek, eyes fluttering open, and smiled.

"You stayed," he said, and she laughed lightly. He pulled her up onto his chest, tangling the blanket around them, and pushed the tangles of her hair over her shoulder and behind her ear.

"I shouldn't have left the first time." She smiled as she looked at him, chin resting on the back of one hand while they other traced patterns on the skin below his ear.

"So," he said, tucking nonexistent curls back as an excuse to touch her face. "Last night, at dinner, you said you wanted to have dinner again." He smirked. "Do you still want to?"

She laughed as she rolled off of him, landing flat on her back as he rolled with her, propping his head up on his hand to stare down at her, in his bed, in the sunlight.

"I think that sounds lovely," she said as she stretched. "But first, coffee." She yawned, causing her skin to slide against his, and he groaned. She felt him hard against her and laughed again. "Coffee first. I'll need my energy." She kissed his nose and he growled.

Hermione jumped off the bed and grabbed his shirt - a soft, long-sleeved button down in a light pink that was almost white. She fingered the luxurious fabric as she slipped it over her shoulders and buttoned it, leaving the top few undone just to tease him. He slipped some pajama pants on from a drawer beside his bed and she stepped into his arms. They were standing next to his bookshelf, and her eyes caught on a copy at the very top.

"I believe that's my book," she said, pointing, and he shook his head.

"It was left in my home. For three years. I believe the ownership has transferred to me at this point." He kissed her cheek and she pretended to try and shove him away.

With a laugh, Draco opened the bedroom door and almost tripped over the mug of coffee on the floor. He craned his neck and thought he heard a laugh and a crash in Blaise's room. It had been the guest room, but since he was too busy living the bachelor life to buy a place of his own, he'd unofficially moved in.

"Blaise?" Draco called, his arm wrapped around Hermione's waist. The noise stopped, and after a moment, Blaise's disheveled head popped out of the doorway. "What are you - "

He stopped when, a moment later, Ginny's head popped out as well.

All four people froze. In shock, Hermione laughed before quickly covering her mouth.

"We'll get coffee later," she said, turning and pulling Draco back into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

As soon as the door shut, Draco picked her up. She laughed as carried her across the room and tossed her onto the bed.

"Stay for the day," he said, leaning over her and she nodded.

"For as long as you'll have me," she said as she captured his lips with hers.

Stay tuned for a follow up chapter, in which we go back in time three years and see the night Hermione and Draco first collided. If you made it this far, please review!