AN: Sometimes I just need to write Dramione smut. This story will be marked as complete as each chapter is a standalone universe. Will update regularly.

Warnings: Smut and lemony goodness! General warning that there may be adultery, or cheating while married, or dub-con, threesome and moresomes. I will never write non-con. But everything else is fair game. I'll post appropriate warnings on each chapter as warranted.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters found within. JKR does. I'm just borrowing them for a moment. This is pure entertainment.

May 2, 1998 – Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft & Wizardry

The war had ended, but lingering emotions it left behind did not. Hermione was somewhat injured but not so much that she needed medical attention. There were others … more gravely injured than she.

Hermione backed out of the Great Hall that had been turned into a makeshift infirmary. She'd never seen so much death before, and right now, Hermione was going to do a very un-Gryffindor like thing to do.

There hadn't been a room in the castle that hadn't been touched by battle and it took her four tries to find an empty classroom she could hide away and empty her soul in. Frustrated, she finally found one and was content to shut the world out and grieve for her friends, her lost childhood, and those left to deal with the aftermath.

Then Draco Malfoy appeared as if her thoughts had summoned him.

She shook her head in disbelief as the blond closed the door behind him with hint of finality. He looked tired and his bandages were tinged with a touch of red. But his eyes glistened with fierce determination that had Hermione's breath catching.

"Shouldn't you be hopped up on pain potions by now?" Hermione asked the Slytherin that had changed sides a year prior. That glint in his eye hardened.

"I must be to do this," Draco muttered beneath his breath as he limped across the room. He pulled the witch to him at the same time she fell into him, his grip steady and unrelenting. His good arm tightened about her waist.

Hermione could feel tears beneath her lashes as her eyes fluttered shut against the searing kiss.

"Wasn't … ready … to let you … go," he breathed in between fervent kisses. The thought that he could have died and she would have never tasted his kiss again suddenly left her yearning for more. Hermione threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, most ardently.

Draco pushed all the words he could never say aloud into his kiss. All the conversations that could have occurred after late night Order meetings, but never did. All the looks of longing that never amounted to anything made her pull the hem of his shirt in a bunch underneath her fist.

Inside this classroom, for these stolen moments, the teen soldiers said all they needed to say.

I think I love you.

Make me feel again.

Will you stay?

The broke apart for a exhausted seconds, and she begged in a small whisper, as he dropped saccharine lips to her neck, "Please, Draco."

Hermione didn't know what exactly she was begging for, but Draco seemed to understand. She did not feel ashamed. Currents of electricity made their hands shake and tingle as they pulled at each other's garments. Carefully, she removed his shirt over his wounds, but he grunted in response and picked up her wand.

He vanished the shirt in an instant.

She barely had time to register that her wand had responded to his magic because Merlin, he was gorgeous! Hermione took a moment to appraise his physical features as she sheepishly ran a hand across his bare chest; lean and firm, scarred from war. Leaning forward, she placed a light kiss in between her splayed fingers, right above his heart.

Did she just feel that?

Rushing blood made his heart beat faster and a rush of anticipation spread between them as she resumed their kiss. Opening her eyes to gauge Draco's response, she wondered if he felt the same thing. Grey eyes assured her that he was hers for however long a time they had. Hermione would not waste it.

The two rushed to finish disrobing. Items fell to the floor in disarray. The tumbled backwards until Hermione's back hit a desk, lost in each other's embrace. Time was short to explore one another, but it was not from a lack of want.

Hurry, her mind begged. And he answered in kind.

Hermione drowned under the force of his kiss. She had never felt this way before, and couldn't imagine ignoring such a passion shut within your bones. She chided herself for not starting this sooner, when they had more time. No wonder some had called her naïve. This is what it meant to be kissed, what dreams could only mimic, what fantasy tried and failed to replicate.

A hand softly cradled the back of her head as her back hit a wooden surface.

He must have saw the worry bleed from her eyes, because he lifted a hand touched her left breast through the fabric of her blood-stained shirt. "Can I touch you? Here?" Draco asked so sincerely, drawing her attention squarely to his face. She saw hints of the carefree-youth peak through.

Slowly, she nodded her consent and they both watched as his hand un-tucked her shirt from her waist, travelled underneath and up to her bra cup before … her mouth fell open in a moan at the sensation. The juxtaposition of the coolness of his fingers against overheated flesh was enough to cause her to arch into his touch.

Draco drank in her reaction as he tweaked and rolled her nipple between his forefinger and thumb, until the nub pebbled against her bra.

Hermione struggled against him, but not in effort to move away. She sought more actually, but didn't know how to vocalize it. Her body continued to arch into his while he played her like a well-tuned instrument. He lowered his mouth to the crux of her neck, the same spot he favored in her dreams of late; coupled with the attention he lavished onto her breast, it was enough to make her groan against his ear.

Vaguely aware of what she was doing, she rolled her hips up and into his which was immediately answered with a roll of his own; strong and powerful hips bucked against hers. She could feel his erection pressing into her hip and she moved her leg against the length of it. It must have felt just as incredible as it did for her, for she was rewarded with a breathy groan into her ear. She would cherish that sound forever. Cool air fanned across the wet skin of her neck and she was positive she would have a mark not left by battle there tomorrow. It was his way of letting the world know she was his – if only for this night.

She would walk out of this room, Ron's newly-minted girlfriend, but she could never forget the soul-searing mark Draco would leave in his absence.

With difficulty, Draco pushed up to his elbows to look down from her. His pupils were dark and dilated and he looked down at her as if she were something to feast on. It made her wet her lips in anticipation. But her brows dropped into a frown as the hand retreated from under her shirt; immediately, she missed the loss.

His voice was rough from restraint. It made her insides quiver as the tenor echoed through her bones. "And how about here?" A skilled hand flitted up cupped the apex between her legs. Her cotton knickers were soaked through as his hand covered her mound.

She thought to be embarrassed as she groaned against the contact, but Draco only hummed in approval. "Hermione, can I touch you here?" he asked, a tinge of urgency beneath his words. Because they knew the world was waiting.

Her breathing became labored as she took a moment to become accustomed to the feel of his hand this close to her womanhood. It was different, so much different from the feel of Ron's hand, but it was nice. More than nice, actually.

Eyes still closed, she nodded once more, trying and failing to anticipate the flood of sensations that was sure to greet her. For she would forever be woefully unprepared for the skill that was solely Draco Malfoy's.

He pulled knickers down and pushed one finger passed her weeping lips; at the same time he reapplied delicate attention to her neck. Her mouth dropped open in shock. A thumb pushed over and around her clit and she could not stop the tremor her body gave. Every reaction she gave freely and honestly. It was his spoils of war to take, and she would not deny him. And Draco was greedy with her offering.

He pushed a long finger slowly back into her wet heat. At the same time he ground against her, placing pressure against her lower abdomen, against her neck. It was … indescribable. Such a far cry from her first physical encounter with the man who waited for her somewhere across the castle.

She opened her eyes on the next pass, as Draco stretched her unused walls and pushed a second finger to join the first. It was uncomfortable for a split-second, but she quickly found herself lifting to meet his hand.

He kept the pace slow and fixed, despite her growing ministrations that he give her more. His mouth suckled sensitive skin as his fingers retreated; then it would revert to sweet licks of his tongue as he moved strong digits back inside her. Soon she was pleading, begging, possibly weeping against him. The stench of war faded from view as her hands clamored to pull him closer. Her body struggled and begged for the impossible. But Draco still knew exactly what she needed.

"Soon," Draco promised against her ear as her stomach coiled into itself. "I'm going to make you come so hard, love," he breathed against her ear and she whimpered in anticipation.

He masterfully switched his pace between a sensual burn and an increased tempo. The change was enough to leave her bewildered and more than frustrated, but each maneuver brought her one step closer to something that was just out of reach. The second he would speed up, she thought she would crest over that elusive edge her former roommates so often gossiped about. Gods, she was nearly there. But then he would drastically slow the pace as she tightened around his hand; it was enough to drive her spare.

"Hmm, you are soaking my hand, Hermione. You must be close."

Hermione wanted to weep at his words. Sweat beaded at her hairline and fell to the underside of her jaw, but she did not care. Breathlessly, she nodded. Lifting a heavy hand, she sought his head and grasped at platinum locks, also soaked with perspiration. She pulled his head down to hers, hoping to convey her needs through lips and tongue. Their tongues lazily intertwined with each other and the sensation burned all the way down to her womb. She could feel a sharp spasm that signaled the end. She had to break the kiss to moan against his face. Day-old stubble scratched along her wet cheek. Feelings she didn't know what to do with overwhelmed her mind as it began to detach itself from reality.

Draco could no longer hold the pace he kept earlier and with an urgency, he began to pump into her. Something deep within told her he would let her come now as she lay cradled in his arms, a sweating, quivering mess; she steadily fucked his hand.

The pad of his thumb pushed hard onto the sensitive nub and she felt a twist of knuckle before her world darkened in utter bliss. Her womb jumped, and then spasmed strongly against his hand. She cried out as her she felt her walls tighten and pulse uncontrollably around his fingers.

Draco held her tightly to him as wave after wave engulfed her lower body forcing it to move on its own accord. She had lost control of her actions, became a puppet to be plucked, and just as quickly, became lifeless in his arms. Draco drew her orgasm out until it reached the point of near-pain.

Hermione heard a wet 'plop' as he removed his fingers, and then rustling as a belt and fabric was removed. Fluids covered her legs as his drenched hand caressed her thigh before he roughly pulled her legs towards him, centering her perfectly to him.

He entered her swiftly and the force of his thrust tore a gasp of surprise from her as he settled deep within her. He was angry. She didn't know if it was at her, the world, or their close- encounter with death, but she was more than happy to channel his frustration as he retreated from her warmth to snap back into her again.

Never had an escape felt so pleasurable, but she couldn't help but the worry over his injuries re-opening. Half-voicing the question aloud, Draco cut it off with a kiss. He poured his irritation into the kiss and she let the question drop, satisfied to match his growing intensity with her own. If this was what passion entailed, she would leave this world behind to feel like this. The close of war outside the classroom muted as her attention focused squarely to the man moving above her.

They came together, the pain of his orgasm (or injury, she could not discern) screwed Draco's eyes shut. He fell against her shoulder, shivering from the exertion. It took all she had to embraced him carefully, ever mindful of his bandages.

Closing her eyes, she ignored the calls of the world, as if she could hide behind her eyelids. But the world would only call louder now that they had won – there was still work to be done. Because in all honestly, wasn't this it? Both she and Draco had nearly escaped death and this was just a quick release to cap the mounting tension between them. A mere tumble in the bed, right?

But even she knew that this was different. Something had changed.

They lay intertwined together, sweaty foreheads touching, breathing labored; neither spoke. Both basked in the aftermath, for that was certainly where they were.

After.

That unsettling thought tore her eyes open in alarm. Hermione wiggled beneath him and he lifted, allowing her to move from his warm embrace. As she sat up, quickly searching for her clothes, she heard him clear as day.

"Stay."

Turning to face the flushed man sitting on the desk stark naked, she felt her heart rent in two. Part of her wanted to leave, but a bigger part of her wanted to give into his every request.

What sort of magic did this man hold over her? She temporarily halted her movements giving into his hypnotic gaze. He reached forward to grab her waist and pulled her bum flush against his groin, still sticky from their earlier coupling.

"You are not Hermione Granger and I am not Draco Malfoy," he breathed into her curls. "In here, we are just a man and woman. We have no further obligations until they come looking for us."

Hermione turned to face him. "Just a man and woman?" she asked.

"If just for a moment," he agreed. "War can wait."

But it was hard to turn her mind off; surely, he knew this as she questioned, "But what about your parents? I'm sure they will want to know you're alright. Other friends as well," she reached, hoping again for the impossible.

He disregarded the statement with a smirk. "I can deal with 'family traditions and upholding pureblood ideals' tomorrow," he replied as he leaned forward to drop a kiss to her shoulder. "Until the sun sets, I only have eyes for you."

There wasn't time to think on his cryptic statements because he was kissing her again. She allowed herself to get lost in the kiss as the fervor swept over them both.

an: Feel free to prompt me in reviews. More is coming soon!