So this is my first attempt at what I like to believe is a revamping of the "one-shot." Yes, it is six times as long as a normal one-shot story, but I wanted to try something new here, especially for a mature story line. Why must things happen so fast?; why must it be all about the action, and nothing more?; who said there cannot be actual feelings behind the lust and passion between two lovers? It has been said "the course of true love never did run smooth," but I am not talking here about true love. Media wants us to think that one night stands and roguish behavior is how we are supposed to act. I want to challenge that. Which is why I spent five weeks writing this. Part of the challenge was the format, part of it was finding a pace I found realistic, and part of it was wanting to get things right, even it was only for my own satisfaction.

This story will stand alone. It has no effect on what I have written before, it will have no effect on what is to come, and it will not be continued. You can ask, and I will just give you another one shot in return. And this is a mature story, but I feel like I handle it with grace and smoothness, not with the vulgarity I often find in here. I tired to keep characteristics of characters in tact, but there are some major character behavioral changes, but remember, this is post-war, people change in the midst of extreme pain and horror. But by all means, please share with me how you feel. That way I can try to work plots you want to see into my stories, I can try to make sure you understand my syntax and flow of movement. Reviews are more than welcome and always appreciated, even angry ones. If you hate it, let me know. I won't mind.

Both the credit for name and the inspiration for this story goes Anberlin, but this is by no means a song fic. Enjoy.


It's not that I hang on every word

I hang myself on what you repeat

It's not that I keep hanging on

I'm never letting go.

Anberlin, "Dismantle Repair"

*** Early October ***

The banging on the door had become almost incessant, despite the late hour. While the pounding had originally kept her from concentrating on finishing paperwork for the detentions she had administered earlier that night while on patrol, the noise was now keeping her from falling asleep. Hermione's eyes narrowed. He'd been persistent now for over an hour; was there no giving up?

Swinging her legs out of bed, Hermione stormed out of her room, not caring to make her way down the stairs quietly to avoid waking up her roommate. Her eyes were narrowed, lips pursed, before she even reached the door, throwing it open, letting it reverberate off the wall, not caring if it made a dent in the school's architecture.

"What do you think you're doing!" Her voice was laden with anger, each word punctuated and clear. One arm was out in front of her, her hand tightly gripping the door frame, blocking the person previously banging on the door from entering the common room.

"I thought that would be obvious Hermione. You're the Head Girl remember?"

"Do you have a point Ronald? It is nearly three in the morning, you're out of bed, and disturbing the peace. I don't have the time or energy to deal with you." Her voice was now cold, void of emotion or the anger it had previous conveyed.

"You said 'no.' " Ron Weasley's face matched the flushed red of his hair, his body slightly swayed forwards as he repeated the word "no," trying to mimic Hermione's tone and accent. "You go from kissing me. To making me want every part of you, admitting that. And then nothing."

"It was the heat of the moment Ronald, I've explained that to you hundreds of times. I did what I wanted in that one second and only then did I realize I didn't want you any more."

"How can you say that to me? I'm your fucking best friend."

Hermione threw her hands up in the air. "A best friend wouldn't act like this Ronald. Get back to bed NOW." She hastily conjured up a clip to pull her hair off her neck. "Merlin help me if I do not give you a months detention for this."

"Fucking hell Hermione; let me in."

Ron took a few hasty advances towards her, but Hermione held her ground.

"I said leave Ronald. I don't like you anymore; I'm sorry if that hurts, but I will not lead you on."

"Bitch. You little—"

"She said leave. As her roommate, I insist you do."

Hermione's shoulders unconsciously relaxed at the sound of Draco Malfoy's voice behind her; his voice tinged with annoyance, superiority, and something she couldn't pinpoint.

"One hundred points will be suggested to be taken from Gryffindor for your utter defiance of the Head Girl, improper language towards a superior, and being out of bed after hours."

Ron stood his ground, his face puce with anger. "Mind your own business Malfoy."

"My common room, my business. Now I suggest you get yourself back to your own room before I summon the Headmaster. Goodnight Weasley."

Draco reached for the door handle, his arm reaching around Hermione's slim shoulders. His eyebrows rose, challenging Ron to defy his orders. Ron had no choice but to listen to his enemy who was revealed as Head Boy only a month earlier, even if he did find himself unwilling to listen to the Head Girl.

Once the door was shut, Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, her shoulder's slumping. She stood there breathing, eyes shut, back towards Draco. She had yet to face him.

"Thank you." It was a mixture between a whisper and a sigh.

If there was any tension between the two in their first few weeks as Head Boy and Girl and newfound roommates, it dissipated in those few moments; a moment between three, which had torn apart the first two participants and brought together strangely enough the last two. While Draco had never intended on getting involved, Weasley's unending yelling and Hermione's tired and strained voice had wrenched him out of his warm bed, angered and annoyed.

Draco didn't even bother to step aside or make further comments on what had just occurred as Hermione slowly turned back around, raised her eyes to look at him, before she made her way back to bed, walking in silence. Nor did he think to say thank you, though the thought came to mind.

*** Three Weeks Later ***

Draco pushed his books away in frustration. For two hours now he had been trying to translate the parchment handed out as homework for his Advanced Ancient Runes course. Over and over again he had studied the complex symbols, looked them up in his various textbooks and, had reviewed his notes time and time again and still nothing made sense. It wasn't as if they had invented any new runes since he took Ancient Runes his fourth year, but this was getting ridiculous. Homework should never take this long.

Noting his frustrated sigh, Hermione glanced up from her place near the fireplace were she was studying for a quiz she had the next day in N.E.W.T. Potions. Draco had been sitting there an awfully long time and by the looks of it, was not very happy to be doing so. As she pushed herself up more, she noticed the roll of parchment littered with the ancient symbols and pictograms she too had been working on earlier that evening. Pausing for a moment, she conjured up a bookmarker, closed her book quietly and placed it on the arm of the chair before rousing herself and making her way over to the table were Draco was currently angrily scribbling on a spare piece of parchment and uttering obscenities towards his professor.

Draco glanced up at Hermione has she came up behind him and quietly moved the chair next to him out of her way. He watched as she tucked a few curls behind her ear and reached forward, bringing the runes parchment back towards him.

"What are you doing," he questioned as she silently moved the parchment upside-down and turned it on its side. But even as he questioned her, Hermione's simple movements to the parchment had caused him to see the runes in a completely new light. Phrases and series of symbols which he had committed to memory began to pop off of the parchment.

"How did you…"

"I spent two hours myself trying to figure it out," she replied. "It was only when I got so frustrated that I pushed it away did it finally make sense. Although, I must say, this has got to be her cruelest assignment yet."

"Cruel? She's insane for assigning something like this."

Hermione snorted softly. "You're probably right, but at least she is not as bad as Trelawney."

Draco's eyes widened as he heard the Head Girl and Gryffindor's Golden Student ridicule a professor. Maybe he had underestimated the girl.

"Don't even start Draco. I am not as perfect as everyone thinks I am. You're the only person who ever thought I could do wrong; please don't suddenly go changing that on me."

A soft smile spread across Hermione's face as she drummed her fingers on the table before making her way back to her armchair, picking up her book, and tucking her legs underneath her. Picking up his quill, Draco dipped it in his inkpot and reached for a clean parchment as he began his translation.

"Thanks…Hermione."

*** Six Weeks Later, the day before winter holidays begin ***

"Are you sure I can't convince you to come and spend Christmas at the Burrow Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head as she sat on her friends bed, watching Ginny Weasley pack her trunk for the holidays, tossing in clothes, books, and other assorted items. While she had seriously considered continuing the tradition she had upheld nearly every year of her time at Hogwarts, this year, she would not be celebrating with the familiar family she now considered as part of her own. And because she still had not found her parents in Australia, and not wanting to return to an empty home, she opted to remain at Hogwarts during the frosty, winter weeks instead of submitting herself to hateful glares and comments from one extremely bitter Ron Weasley.

"I'm sorry Gin, but you've seen how he has been these past months; the only time he addresses me is with pure hatred and an attempt somehow to cut my confidence or whatever he is trying to destroy. I won't stand for it here and Merlin, I don't want to cause trouble for your family over the holidays. I've already gotten a few angry letters from you Mum about the whole thing. Goodness knows what he has told her."

"Oh 'Mione." Ginny wrapped her arms around her closest female friend, pulling her in tight towards her. "I'm sorry you have to go through all of this. Stupid git of a brother. And yet, I can't help but feel a bit selfish. How are Harry and I supposed to have any alone time together without you there to keep my pesky brother out of the way for a even twenty minutes?"

Hermione smiled, leaning her head on her friend's shoulder.

"If he hasn't figured out you and Harry are having sex yet Ginny, I am not sure he ever will. No one else but him misses those heady glances Harry gives you nearly every night after dinner."

"We don't have sex every night Hermione, gods." Ginny laughed as she retreated off the bed and riffled through one of her drawers until she pulled out a few sets of her sexier lingerie. "If you should be worrying about anything, it should be about getting you someone to wrap your arms around at night. There is no better way to make Ron 100% aware that you are not going to change your mind than to date someone else. Or at least this way, whoever the beau is can have his fists make it clear that you are off limits."

A cheeky smile appeared on the fiery redhead's face as Hermione's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. From in the common room the two young ladies heard Ron and Harry calling up to Ginny, yelling about wanting to grab a sandwich from the Great Hall before leaving for the train. Waving her wand at her trunk, Ginny fastened the locks and cast a lightening charm before walking over to Hermione again, reaching out her hand and pulling her off the bed and leading her to the mirror.

"You're gorgeous 'Mione. Even the dumbest knuckleheads in this school should realize that. Just believe in yourself and wear these for a day—"she shoved a matching set of emerald green lace knickers and a bra into Hermione's hands—"and see what the world looks like when you're hiding these beneath your clothes. You'll be amazed at how great it makes you feel."

"Ginny I—"

"You're not going to argue me about this. Now wait up here for a few minutes until I get Ron into the hallway and have a wonderful break 'Mione. Owl me if you get bored." She quickly placed a kiss on her friend's cheek before grabbing her trunk and making her way downstairs, smiling as she did so hoping Hermione would take her advice and seek some male company over the holidays.

Hearing her friends voices faint away before disappearing completely, Hermione looked down to examine the garments Ginny had given her before she left. She had to admit, the pair were incredibly lovely, despite offering up sensual suggestions about the wearer. And while she had always been a Gryffindor to the core, Ginny was one of the few who knew that secretly green always was and will be her favorite color. Leave it to Ginny to buy her lingerie as a suggestive Christmas present; but then again, had Ginny needed any help in that department, and had she had more experience, Hermione would have done the same for her closest female friend.

Minimizing her newest undergarments, Hermione tucked them into the pocket of her zip-up jumper before she made her way quietly and thoughtfully through the Gryffindor common room and back to her own residence contemplating how to spend the next few weeks whilst nearly every other Hogwarts resident would be off celebrating with friends and family.

*** Three Days into the Winter Holiday ***

Draco drummed his fingers on the floor where he sat outside of the bathroom. Hermione had now been in the shower for a full hour and twelve minutes; he'd counted. There was no feasible way in his mind that anyone would need to take that long of a shower, and yet, here he was waiting, too lazy to walk down to the Perfects bathrooms to take care of his business. At first he had thought it strange that she had decided to stay behind during the holidays, but after recollecting how cold one-third of the former trio had been to her all year, he couldn't blame her for wanted to stay behind. And while he wouldn't really admit it, it was nice to know that there was someone right across the hallway at night…in case anything ever happened. He himself decided to stay rather than go back to the Manor, which his mother was currently renovating in hopes to removing the dark ties people associated with the stately home.

At the sound of the water being shut off, Draco's head moved up, but he didn't bother getting up off the floor, now quite comfortable in his position. Stifling a yawn, his head fell back as he closed his eyes and faintly heard Hermione finishing up whatever she was doing in the bathroom. It was from this leaned back position that, when he heard the door open up beside him, he opened his eyes to see the Head Girl, her hair damp and in tighter curls than when her hair was dry; tightly wrapped around her was one of the towels which magically appeared for her whenever she was in the bathroom, a deep burgundy red.

"Sorry." Her cheeks were flushed. "I lost track of time and well…"

He looked up at her wide eyed as she leaned against the doorpost, unconcerned that she was currently dressed in only her bath towel.

"That's alright. Did you have a nice shower?"

"Yes, it was nice not having to hurry it to get to class or anything. You weren't waiting long were you?"

"Not at all," he replied, pleasantly happy with their little conversation. "I had lunch sent up for us, since we both slept through brunch today; it's in the common room."

Hermione tucked a wet curl behind her ear as she pushed herself back off the doorframe and offered a thanks as she eyed him up and down, a smile growing on her face. Making her way down the hallway to her bedroom she opened the door and made her way inside, but not before offering up one more comment:

"I'll wait for you, Draco."

Hermione shut the door behind her and immediately fell against it, her breathing increased despite how she tired to stop it. Over the past few months, ever since the "Ron incident" she had started seeing Draco in a new light; had he actually always looked out for those he, dare she say, cared about or at least worked with closely. She couldn't count the times she had seen him by Blaise Zambini's side, and even though he may not have had the healthiest relationship with Pansy Parkinson and a few other Slytherins, perhaps it was true, you stick closest to your house members as she recalled his fearful glances towards his fallen house members during the War.

After sticking up for her when Ron was being anything but cooperative that night, Draco had continued to back her up subtly both in class and in the hallways. He had somehow showed up several times when Ron had cornered her when she was on patrol; Ron had always been persistent, but lately, he has letting his temper get the best of him, his voice rising a bit to loudly, his forwardness a touch too aggressive. But she knew that eventually he would move on, she had to believe such things.

But why was her heart pounding so loudly? Where did that sudden courage come from, to stand in front of him in nothing but a towel, and oh Merlin, she had checked him out too. Trying to shake the whole event out of her mind, Hermione removed her towel and began to dry her hair as she made her way to her wardrobe to figure out what to wear that afternoon.

Meanwhile, Draco himself was revisiting their little meeting outside of the bathroom; however, he was more than willing to acknowledge that he had definitely been noticing his roommate more than he had ever before. Yes, they now lived 10 yards apart from each other, but coming out from the War, and even in those months before the War, Hermione had grown. Her hair was a bit longer, much more under control, and he had to admit it, she was very appealing visually. Her hips were fuller and she, unlike other girls their year, was proud of how her body was shaped; she didn't try to change anything about her. And watching her lean against the door, he couldn't have imagined her looking any more appealing in that moment. The towel which hung close and tight to her body left little for his imagination, yet that didn't stop his mind from imagining what little was hidden from his eyes.

Draco groaned, rubbing his hands over his face before reaching over and closing the door behind him as he wandlessly turned on the shower water, allowing it to warm up before he stepped in. But the water wasn't the only thing heating up in the bathroom, Draco's whole body was warming up after the images of Hermione washed through his mind: how exactly her soft, supple skin would feel like against his; if that light, summery tan her skin always had was all over her body; and, if, she could look at him like that during just a small conversation outside of the shower, Merlin, he couldn't resist but imagine how she might look at him in a much more intimate setting; her deep brown eyes cascading into an even deeper, richer, smoldering color; eyes which could capture his attention for hours, if not days, and maybe, years. At least his arising desires for Hermione were hidden and being discovered behind the closed bathroom door, because he certainly now of all times needed a shower—although at a much cooler temperature than it was now—to cool him off as he felt the blood rushing through his body, invigorating muscles which, at that moment, did not need to be brought to attention.

***

Hermione shut her bedroom door behind her, pulling on a light cardigan over her plain white tank as she made her way down the stairs and into her common room while she waited for Draco to finish his shower and get dressed. Once there, she saw a modest array of food spread out over a coffee table by the fireplace with was, while lit, slowing falling into a pile of glowing embers. Finding a place in her favorite armchair by the fire, Hermione grabbed a book off of the bookshelf and took a seat, crossing her legs over one of the chair's arms while making herself comfortable, leaning against the meeting of the chair's back and other arm.

She could not think of a more comfortable place to be. In planning the common room, and in reality the whole of the Head's dormitory, Headmaster McGonagall had perfectly intermingled the tastes of both Hermione and Draco; it was comforting, yet not too large; the common room boasted a large fireplace with oversized, comfortable furniture and a modest library. Her room itself was simple, maintaining her Gryffindor ties, yet not limited to the house's distinct colors. But in her common room, she couldn't help but wonder if she and Draco were more alike than she and her classmates had noticed before. He seemed just as comfortable and content there as she did; and, more often than not, they both found themselves reluctant to leave it's warmth and comfort for their own beds at night. How could she have not noticed these similarities before?; she had trained herself to notice every detail ever since she was a small child, how had these striking details failed to capture her attention?

"What are you thinking about?"

Hermione turned to find Draco staring at her from across the common room, obviously done with his shower. He made his way over to her and took a seat in the other armchair and poured her a cup of tea, handing it to her.

"You know how I take my tea?" It was a mixture between a question and a passing comment, which Draco received with a small smile from Hermione.

"A touch of sugar and milk. You've been taking it like that all term. Is it weird that I know that?"

She smiled, a slight chuckle escaping her lips as she watched Draco enlarge the coffee table so that they could eat easily from it.

"Not really, when I admit the fact that you like yours with three sugars and a sprinkle of cinnamon. And when you have tea, you always have to have some sort of cookie or biscuit with it, chocolate chip scones if they are available." She crinkled her nose as he raised his eyebrows. "So I've paid attention to how you have your tea, sue me."

"Sue…sue…?"

"Take me to court; it's a muggle term."

"Ahh, I see. So what other muggle curiosities are there about the Head Girl that I don't know?" Surprised at his own forwardness, Draco filled his plate with scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon, avoiding Hermione's curious gaze.

"Are you sure you're Draco Malfoy? Because here we are, having a decent, normal conversation, we haven't fought in months, if not before…before…and now you want to know about my muggle upbringing?"

He might as well take the plunge.

"Everyone else in this school is pretty readable Hermione; they're predictable. And after six years of having classes with you, fighting with you, having my nose broken by you—" she blushed, hiding her face behind her cup of tea—"I still don't know you. You're a mystery to me."

Hermione pushed her own eggs around her plate, wishing the flush in her cheeks would disappear. She'd never had anyone—not Harry, not Ron, not even Ginny—take such an active interest in her day to day movements, a curiosity in her actions and what made her, Hermione.

"The same can be said for you, you know Draco. I've learned more about you in these last few weeks than I have our entire time at Hogwarts. You're not as much of a hardass as you make yourself seem."

"And you're not an innocent bookworm either Hermione."

"Sounds like we're making progress. We now know what we're not."

"So it seems Miss Granger," agreed Draco as he handed her a plate of blueberry scones and lemon curd which she gladly accepted.

And, so began a new friendship between the two, a friendship unconcerned about the prejudices of others and their preconceived personalities, open to repairing and growing into something just for the two of them.

*** Christmas Eve, 11:30pm ***

Even with the fire roaring and her feet cozily tucked into a pair of fur lined boots, Hermione shivered from her place in what was now without a doubt, her chair. But she refused to go to bed, every year on Christmas Eve since she was able to read, she had read from cover to cover Dicken's A Christmas Carol, if only to remind herself that Christmas was indeed, not about gifts, but about being thankful for what you are able to accomplish in life, cherishing the moments you have with a happy, open heart. She still had fifteen more pages to read when she heard the common room door open, Draco quietly closing it behind him as he made his way into their shared space.

"You're still up?"

She nodded, stifling a yawn and curling into the chair more.

"Why?"

"Reading."

Draco made his way to Hermione's chair, leaning against its side, looking over her shoulder. His hand brushed the back of her shoulder, unconsciously playing with a few of her curls.

"A Christmas Carol…sounds festive."

"Parts of it." Hermione leaned her head back to look at Draco, the crown of her head grazing his chest. "I think it is a bit more humbling than anything else. How were your rounds?"

Draco sat down on the arm of her chair as she moved to the other side, allowing him to join her.

"Boring, it's not as much fun when you have no one to talk to. The halls are quiet, cold, and drafty, this is an awfully old castle after all."

Hermione giggled as she placed a bookmark in her spot, and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

"That does sound awful. Makes me happy to know I was here, reading, by the fire…which did you know is awfully warm."

While Draco was still becoming accustomed to Hermione's sarcasm and oftentimes openness to teasing him, he was still often caught off guard by her forwardness and open friendliness with him.

"Yeah well," he nudged her knee, "just remember you have duty on New Year's Eve and it will be me, here, warm by the fire, possibly drinking something Hogwarts wouldn't approve of."

"You suck, you know that right."

"So I have been told, mostly by you, mind you."

Hermione smiled back at him, crinkling her nose and turning her head away—how could her stomach be doing flips now? She'd known him for seven years now and she'd never felt this way. Brining her eyes back to him, she found Draco staring at her as well, although through his eyes, she saw a reflection of something she had never seen in him before. It both mystified her and made her want to know more. He smiled at her when he noticed she returned his earnest glances.

"Maybe I'll be able to convince you to come with me." Her voice was mingled with hope and gods, she hope he didn't notice, imploring want.

A soft smile formed on Draco's lips as he stood up from the chair. "We'll see what happens. Merry Christmas Hermione."

"Merry Christmas Draco."

***New Year's Eve, 5:30pm ***

Draco watched on as Hermione rolled over in her sleep, pulling the blanket she had wrapped her body in more tightly around her sleeping form on the couch. She sighed, her chest rising and falling slowly causing the blanket to fall off her shoulder, her pale skin glowing in the soft warmth coming from the fireplace. She had said she just wanted a quick nap before dinner, ensuring she could stay up for all of her rounds that night. He had agreed to wake her up before he left for dinner, but he couldn't pull himself away from watching her sleep.

He knew what he was doing was definitely classified as creepy, stalkerish even, but he had never seen someone look more serene, more naturally gorgeous, when sleeping than the girl before him. Draco had pretty much accepted the fact that he had growing feelings for the brunette; he often found himself looking for her when walking around the castle and was doing his best to be civil towards her in the hopes of one day, maybe having her reciprocate the feelings he had for her. He was finding it harder and harder not to make a move when it was just the two of them together, but coming onto someone was a habit he was trying to leave behind; he wanted to make sure her feelings were clearly known before he kissed her, and definitely before he did anything more than that.

Glancing up at the clock, Draco pushed himself up and out of his chair, placing the parchment he was writing up a few notes on, onto the coffee table. He stretched his arms before he pulled on a jacket which he picked up off the ground next to him. While he may have been perfectly comfortable in the common room, he knew that the hallways of Hogwarts were anything but warm on the dreary last day of the year. Slowly he made his way over to Hermione's sleeping form.

Kneeling down before her, his hand slowly reached out to nudge her shoulder. He couldn't help but react at how soft her skin was, warm to the touch from the fire and her blanket. Draco wiggled his fingers against her, whispering her name as his did so.

"Hermione." She stirred. "Hermione, it's time for dinner; wake up."

She moaned, pulling the blanket over her face and turning her back towards him. "Five more minutes."

"I don't think so," he replied, pulling the blanket away from her.

Sighing, she rolled over, opening her eyes before slowly closing them again, blinking a few times. "I'm awake."

Pushing herself off of the couch and making her way up towards her room, Draco couldn't help but notice an emerald green strap peaking though with the white of her shirt.

***New Years Eve, 11:50pm***

Hermione rounded another empty corner of Hogwarts Castle. Minding the strict word of the professors, what few students remained on the grounds had remained in their common rooms that night, having their own parties, staying clear of the highly patrolled corridors least they be caught in situations which would more than likely earn them detentions, if not worse. And while Hermione could have spent the majority of her night in her own common room, talking a quick walk through the halls every hour or so, she kept up her rounds throughout the night, even with her shift starting three hours early; she took her Head Girl responsibilities very seriously.

Walking past a rather large window near the Gryffindor Towers, Hermione paused to look out at the view, the glistening beauty of the moon reflecting off of the lake, the smoky fog winding over the surrounding hills and countryside. Hogwarts really was located in on of the most beautiful places in the world, even if most people didn't see it as exotic; to her, the moors and countrysides of Scotland were some of the most exotic lands she would ever behold. So enraptured was she in the view, she didn't even hear someone approaching behind her.

"Someone's not minding their duties. She didn't even hear me approaching." The voice was directly behind her, accompanied with a pair of hands reaching around her and covering her eyes.

"Some Head Girl she is, she hasn't even threatened me with a detention yet." His voice was next to her ear. She could feel the puffs of his breath against her skin, gooseflesh prickling out over her skin.

"How would it look if the Head Girl gave the Head Boy detention? I am not sure that would reflect well on either of us, Draco." Even though his hands covered her eyes, Draco could feel the smirk form on her lips as her cheeks rose with the movements of her devious smile.

Turning around, Hermione raised her eyebrows at the boy before her, before sitting down on the ledge, carved into the side of the window, leaning back against the wall, her left side pressed against the window's thick glass.

"I'm glad you decided to join me, for a minute there I thought you were really going to leave me out here all on my own while you got drunk back in the common room."

"You slay me Hermione, do you really think I'm that heartless?" Draco was leaning against the wall, looking down on the Head Girl as she relaxed, her legs spread out across the window seat.

"Heartless, no? Lazy and like ninety percent of the other students who are here right now, drinking the night away, yes?" She smiled, laughing as he raised his eyebrows at her, daring her to continue.

Somewhere further up on the Gryffindor Towers, Hermione heard a roar of cheers followed by laugher and a series of small explosions. Leave it to George Weasley to send his former house a box of tricks for over the winter holidays; no matter how "old" he was becoming, each year he seemed to be more of a prankster than he was the year previous.

"What are your plans for tonight?"

"Not sure. Honestly, I was just going to go back to the room and see what you were up to, but now, here you are, ruining my night plans. Now you're checking to see what I'm doing."

Draco forced himself to not smile. She wanted to know what he was doing?

"Well," Draco smirked as he thought of a reply to offer her. "There is that bottle of Firewhiskey in my room which is begging to be opened." His reply to her was said with such a straight face she for once, didn't know whether to take him seriously or not.

"Are you…are you serious?"

"Only if you want me to be."

Outside somewhere, fireworks were going off. Hermione looked down at her watch.

"Well Draco, McGonagal was kind enough to take over my patrols at midnight. Why don't we check up on that bottle of yours?"

Draco could barely believe his ears. Maybe his comments at the beginning of the holidays were right; maybe she wasn't the innocent bookworm everyone took her to be.

***New Years Day, 9:15pm***

As it turned out, walking back down from the towers to the Heads common room, Hermione and Draco had run into several of the school's professors who then found it imperative that they drink a toast with them, ringing in the new year, a simple gesture which then took up the next three hours of their lives. Hermione was barely awake as Draco lead her back to the common room, his arm around her waist as he helped her up the stairs—perhaps he really should have let her sleep for five more minutes earlier. But the interruption however, had only delayed Hermione's suggestion from being carried out to the best of their abilities.

"I never took you as a drinker Hermione." Draco watched as the girl in front of his poured the both of them a generous amount of Firewhiskey into two glasses before walking over to their well-established spots by the fire.

"Just because I am, well, me, doesn't mean I don't drink. I am just not like many of the other girls our age who make it very well known when they have been drinking. And I'm of age, so I don't get why everyone is always so amazed or whatever when they do see me drink. It's normal. I'm a teenager after all."

"Have you ever been drunk?"

Hermione chuckled, a slight flush coming to her cheeks. Draco watched as she removed her sweater, leaving her in just a simple t-shirt and jeans. She was sitting in her normal chair, he in his own opposite her.

"Yes, a few times, mostly with Ginny. The most recent time was a few weeks into the term after I had a particularly bad day with Ron. Ginny and I finished off an entire bottle of muggle alcohol. I am still not even sure how I made it back here without getting caught, or not waking you up. It was like, the harder I tried to be quiet, the louder I was. And then I had to go and trip walking up the stairs to the bathroom." She laughed. "I was bloody wasted and it was fantastic. I didn't think of Ron at all that night after we toasted him for our reason to drink."

"I'm sad I missed it. I am sure that would have been a sight to behold. The Head Girl, Golden Girl Extraordinaire, wasted, falling down the stairs." In actuality, Draco wanted to know what she looked like, cheeks flushed with the glisten only alcohol can give the eyes. He wanted to know if she was a giggler, a girl who talked incessantly, or one who drank and passed out, leaving the night to continue on without her.

"What about you? What kind of drinker is the Slytherin prince?"

"I drink when the occasion arises. Not as much as I did before the War. The War was trouble enough and I couldn't deal with alcohol then, not like many other wizards who took to the bottle with open hands. But yes, I drink. And yes, I've been drunk more times than I can count. I've been told I am much more relaxed when I've been drinking."

"But I think you're relaxed now," blurted out Hermione. It had been a half-hour or so into their conversation, considering the lulls in their responses, but already she and Draco had refilled their glasses. Unconsciously, both knew that they needed to leave their duties as Heads behind for a night and act like normal teenagers.

"I mean, I think you're relaxed a lot more than people see. Living with you, you're a different person than you are in the halls." She paused, taking a sip of her drink while gathering her words, trying to not make her voice sound rushed. "I…I don't think you're the same boy you were when we first started school."

He raised his eyebrows at her, but was intensely curiously to know what she thought.

"I like you much more now. You're easier to get along with. And you don't put that awful gel in your hair anymore. I am not sure what your mother was thinking, letting you use all of that product. It was revolting." She was now giggling, tucking her curls behind her ears.

Draco was intrigued to say the least. He took in all of her words, while watching her before him. Her cheeks slightly flushed—Firewhiskey was strong, extremely potent by muggle standards. He wondered how she saw him. He was already finished with his second glass and was reaching to poor another.

Hermione watched Draco as he walked over, taking her glass and then refilling it. His movements were so elegant, even with a certain sway in his walk. He was confident, yet not overtly so. His pupils she noticed were dilated; he was smiling. His hair was slightly messy. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and grey button-up shirt much like the ones he wore while school was in session. He was incredibly handsome.

Suddenly, Hermione felt the need to really thank him for saving her all those weeks ago from Ron. His back was still turned to her when she got up out of her seat and made her way towards him, concentrating on the boy in front of her and now how her body was currently reacting. His back was still turned to her when she was directly behind him, reaching her arms tightly around his waist and pressing her cheek to his back.

"Thank you Draco. For everything." She couldn't help but notice he smelled like fresh pine after a spring rain.

Turning around while still in her arms, Draco did what only seemed natural. He hugged her back, his hand cautiously smoothing over her back and up into her hair.

"You're welcome."

Looking up at him, she smiled. Merlin, she's pretty he thought.

"We're going on an adventure," her interruption to their silence was sudden. She did not like the reaction her stomach was giving her as he looked down on her, a soft smile on his face. Transfiguring their glasses into what Draco recognized as muggle water bottles, she placed one in his hand before tugging on the other, pulling him along with her out of their common room and into the halls of the castle.

***Five Hours Later***

Draco watched as Hermione ran her fingers over the spines of the books in the library. This night had been unlike any other he had spent at Hogwarts. Initially, Hermione lead them out of their Head quarters and they wandered the corridors, ducking into classrooms whenever they thought they heard someone coming. Then he had the idea to sneak out and walk along the banks of the lake where he watched with great interest as Hermione squished her toes in the sand. Hermione then thought it might be fun to lay in the Quidditch stands, looking at the stars; this was until she suddenly realized it was very cold. Draco kindly offered her his own shirt, leaving him in only a plain black t-shirt, she wearing his button up over her white one. It was then that Draco suggested they go back inside, the two now currently exploring the library, enjoying having the immense room all to themselves. Long ago they had discarded their empty water bottles, and were well beyond the ability to pass of as sober.

From being out in the wind and night air, Hermione's hair was a bit wilder, her curls fuller and cascading down her shoulders, her skin was flushed, the apples of her cheeks bright red, her eyes glistening. Draco on the other hand looked relatively the same, albeit his steps were a bit more cautious and he was a touch louder than he normally would allow himself to be. All in all, the two looked like a pair of teenagers, mischievous, but otherwise exhibiting good behavior.

Breathing in deeply, Hermione spun around, sighing and leaning against the bookshelf behind her.

"I love the smell of leather bindings." She closed her eyes and let her head fall towards her right shoulder. Slowly her eyes fluttered open, her gaze intently on Draco who was watching her every move. "And I love this library. Aisle after aisle, it is so easy to get lost in here."

"Is that so?" His voice was both a question and a challenge.

A bright smile spread across her face before she bit her lip and ran off down the aisle, quickly turning and disappearing from sight. Draco heard her call after him, daring him to catch her. Going the opposite direction Draco followed her laugh up and down the library stacks, pausing every so often to locate the sound of her voice. He himself laughed when he caught sight of her, running down towards one of the library windows. Knowing she would end up in the same part of the library if he continued going straight, he silently slowed down, cautiously walking, hoping she wouldn't hear him coming. Seeing her pop back into view, Draco grabbed hold of her waist, pulling her into him and swinging her around, not caring about the shriek she let out, both of their laughs intermingling into the otherwise silent library.

"Let me down! Let me down!" Hermione struggled in Draco's grasp, her laughter doubling as Draco tickled her sides before he set her down against yet another bookcase, his arms placed right above her shoulders.

Hermione shivered, shyly looking up at Draco who was looking down at her. And she didn't know what possessed her to do so, but she did the only thing that seemed natural in that moment. She kissed him.

Draco hadn't expected her to kiss him, but Merlin, he was happy she did. He had often wondered what her full, pink lips would feel like against his and now here he was, fervently moving his own lips against hers. Each of their motions was returned by the other, their lips moving feverishly together as Hermione's arms found their way, wrapping themselves around Draco's neck, pulling him flush against her. Draco was more than content to comply with her movements, one hand coming down to cradle her neck, his other arm wrapping itself around her waist, pulling her up and impossibly closer to him. He wanted to—he needed to—feel every part of her.

Turning the two of them around, Draco walked her backwards, his lips never leaving her own, if only momentarily as they struggled to catch their breath. Hermione felt the table against the back of her legs and complied as Draco lifted her up, resting her on the table. She moved her legs apart, nestling Draco in between them before pulling him even closer to her. She moaned as Draco moved his lips to her neck, sucking and nibbling at the base of her throat, moving upwards, breathing in her scent and leaving his mark before sucking on a pressure point at the edge of her jaw, just below her ear.

Hermione moaned again, using her hand to press Draco's lips against her neck. Her breathing was ragged. Never in her life had she been kissed like this. He knew what he was doing, that much was certain, but the way he made her feel beautiful by just kissing her was breathtaking, literally. He made her skin tingle and prickle underneath his touch. She gasped as he switched to the other side of her neck, pulling on her earlobe before huskily whispering in her ear, "you're beautiful. I've always thought so."

Pulling back, Hermione pressed her lips against Draco's once more, kissing him as if her life depended on it. Her hands fell from were they were holding his neck to the base of his shirt, sliding beneath it, her fingers stretching over his Quidditch perfected stomach. She sighed, moving her hands upward over his stomach until the rested on his chest; his shirt riding up as she did so. Furrowing her eyebrows, she tugged on the shirt, Draco raising his arms so she could pull it off. Immediately afterward Draco slide his own shirt off her shoulders, letting it fall onto the table behind her. Hermione smiled before giving his neck the same treatment as he had previously given hers.

Draco's groans were almost primal, sending waves of pleasure to her core. Had anyone asked her a few years ago if she could see herself drunk with Draco Malfoy snogging the life out of each other in the library at nearly three in the morning, she wouldn't have believed it. But after the events of the past few months, it was as if this moment couldn't have come soon enough. Kissing and nibbling her way up his neck, Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him flush against her center; unconsciously she rolled her hips against his. They both moaned, Draco's hand tangling itself in her hair, but not before he gasped out her name.

Hearing her name, Hermione pulled back, giving Draco a searing kiss. His hands slide from were they were in her hair and on her neck, down her sides, his fingers spreading over her stomach, his palm just brushing her breast. Reaching the bottom of her white t-shirt, he swiftly and easily pulled it over her head. Hermione cared not that she was now before him in just her jeans and emerald green lace bra.

Draco stopped his actions. Staring at the Hermione he now saw before him. Her lips were delightfully swollen, her eyes wide. Scattered across her neck were bright red marks, marks he was proud to call his own. Draco watched as her chest rose and fall, in alliance with her ragged breathing. Missing the feeling of his lips on her own, Hermione leaned forward and pressed her lips against his, slowly, cautiously, gently, unlike their kisses before. Draco relished the feeling of her skin against his.

"I thought I heard voices coming from in here." It was Headmistress McGonagal

Hermione and Draco's eyes went wide at the voice echoing through the library. Quickly Draco picked up his own shirt off the ground, pulling it over his head and Hermione pulled on Draco's other shirt, grabbing her own off the floor before Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the front of the library, avoiding the searching professors. Hermione giggled as she and Draco made their way out into the hallways before breaking out into a run towards their room.

Once into the room, Hermione and Draco fell against their door, their chests rising and falling as they struggled to catch their breath, their hands still intertwined, Draco running his thumb over Hermione's. Turning to look at the boy next to her, Hermione pulled Draco into their common room and up towards the stairs which lead to their bathroom and both of their individual rooms. Leading him to his door, she gently pushed him against it, then pressing herself against him as she kissed him once more, powerfully, but with less of the passion they exhibited to each other in the library. She stepped back. Draco watched her move, his shirt on her, but unbuttoned, leaving her emerald green bra in plain view; it was a sight to behold. Hermione's lips moved, a mixture between a smile and a smirk, but one that nonetheless turned Draco on considerably before she opened her own bedroom door.

"Goodnight Draco. Sweet dreams."

***Ten Days Later, January 11th***

After their night in the library, the dynamic between Draco and Hermione had changed, definitely changed. Hermione had woken up surprisingly happy for being in a shirt she did not immediately recognize. Walking to the mirror she had blushed at the series of marks on her neck as the memories of those wee morning hours rushed back to her. She couldn't help but hope that Draco didn't regret their actions because she certainly didn't want to forget them, so she let the marks remain in plain sight, uncovered.

In his own room, Draco had fallen asleep thinking of Hermione and spent most of the night dreaming about her. Never before had he had feelings towards a girl as he was feeling now. He wanted to always be near her, but to just be sitting in her presence was enough for him, if they had more contact with each other, he would welcome it, but that was not what he wanted the basis of their relationship to revolve around. He genuinely cared about her and it slightly scared him, the feelings he had towards her. He could only hope that she felt the same way.

Following their romantic entanglement, Hermione and Draco found themselves drawn to each other. While they still hadn't kissed each other again, they were often seen walking through the halls together. And with the return of the whole of Hogwarts student population, it was very clear something had happened while the other students were gone. They sat next to each other during the classes they had together, and while nothing physical had changed, Ginny Weasley couldn't help but smile at the way she would see Draco look at her best friend. She was certain something had happened. In fact, the only one who seemed unhappy about the changes between the Head Boy and Head Girl was Ron Weasley, but everyone understood he was still bitter about Hermione rejecting him; but leave it to Ron to not let that deter him from getting under the Head Girl's skin.

Draco looked up from his spot on the couch as he heard Hermione come in from her rounds. It was Friday night and while classes had only been in session since Tuesday, the effects of having Ron back on Hogwarts grounds was taking a toll of the girl whose feelings and welfare he cared most about. She had already come in twice ranting about something Ron had done, how he made her rounds more difficult, on how he didn't listen, or how he was trying to make Harry take sides; and, while Hermione would never admit it, he was getting to her: she hated feeling guilty. But this night, she was quiet as she came in, wearing her emotions across her face, so easy for Draco to read it was almost frightening.

Hermione let her book bag fall to the ground, walking over to Draco and silently sitting down next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. Cautiously, Draco laced his arm around her waist, pulling her further into him, comforting her without words, waiting for her to speak in her own time.

"How is it, that I know I've done nothing wrong, yet I feel like this is all my fault?"

Draco smoothed his hand over the outside of her thigh, his fingers curling in and out as he listened to her. She sighed.

"He shouldn't make you feel guilty Hermione. You were honest with him; that should be better than lying to both yourself and him in making something that wasn't going to last continue on. Don't let him get to you."

Hermione let her eyes fall shut. "How is it you always make whatever I tell myself seem more real, more important? I find myself clinging to every word you say." She sighed again. "Do you know what he accused me of tonight? He said I was heartless, that I couldn't love him nor anyone else. He doesn't even understand; how could he think he knows me? Then he saw my face flush."

Draco waited for her to continue.

"I told him he couldn't be more wrong, that if he really was my friend, he would see that I was capable of feelings, of caring for someone more than I care for myself. Now Ron thinks I was somehow cheating on him. That, that is why I didn't want to be with him. Now not only does he think I'm heartless, but he thinks I'm a cheat."

Draco trembled with anger. How could anyone speak to her like that? Merlin, he knew he was going soft, but things had changed since the War. If anyone knew him now, it was Hermione. And after having her once, he never wanted to let her go.

"You're not a liar, and you're not a cheat Hermione. You are to smart, too genuine to love just anyone, to lead anyone on. Even Weasley should be able to see that." He paused, timid to continue with what he wanted to say next, least he hear an answer he didn't want to believe. "Any guy who you decided to cast your affection on will be a lucky man; he won't be able to ask for anyone more loyal, more caring, more beautiful."

Hermione lifted her head off of Draco's shoulder. It was then that he realized she had been crying, her eyes slightly red and puffy around the edges; it broke his heart. With an earnest look in her eyes, Hermione leaned forward and gently pressed her lips against Draco's; their kiss was gentle, yet seemed to convey every secret feeling, every secret message they wanted to share with each other; it was passionate, yet slow, as if they knew they had more than enough time for more later. Pulling back, Hermione looked at Draco, searching for the right words.

"What if I have already found him? What if I find myself clinging to everything he says, never wanting to let go so I won't be left behind?"

"I won't let you go, not without a fight." Draco wasn't going to wait for her to respond, if he wasn't the one she was talking about, what he said was going to be doubly true: he wouldn't go down without a fight. "You're the only one who has ever been able to see right through me, I'm not going to leave you behind."

Hermione closed the space between them, urgency, hope, and thankfulness being conveyed in the kiss she was now sharing with Draco. She didn't care what her friends might think, she didn't care what her professors or what her fellow students might say about her or Draco. All that mattered now was that he was here, with her, and he had no intentions of leaving. For the first time in a long time, she was looking out for herself and the one, the only one, she cared about most.

Hands on her waist, Draco slowly pushed Hermione back onto the couch, hovering over her as their kiss intensified. Her hands were in his hair, tangling themselves into the strands which just barely touched the back of his neck, lacing through the longer sections in the front before her hands made their way onto his shoulders, smoothing over his shirt, searching for the smoothness of his muscles which she knew lay beneath. His hands were cautiously on the curve of her hip, the other on the crook of her neck, bringing her face closer to his. Their moments in the library together were one thing; this time he wanted to make sure the direction they took was one she wanted to take under a sober mind. When her hands slide from his shoulders to the base of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning it from top to bottom, he knew; she wanted this.

As his hands slide under her own shirt, running over the slight swell of her stomach, fingers spreading over the base underneath her ribs, Hermione realized this might not be the best place to continue their efforts. While not the public venue of the library, the couch in their common room was only so big and already Draco had to focus on not tumbling off, bringing her down with him.

"Maybe we, maybe we should continue this somewhere else." Her breaths were short, interrupted by the actions Draco was making against her neck, the sensations his fingers made on the skin of her stomach. Pulling back, she noticed Draco's eyes had darkened more than just a few shades, his own skin flushed as he looked back at her, lacing his fingers with hers and leading her away from the couch.

Once off the couch, Hermione quickly realized he was talking her to his room. In vain she tried to quiet her breathing, but her attempts were in futile; not only was she anticipating where everything was going—her body was reacting in ways to Draco that she had never experienced before,—but she was nervous, nervous about what she was supposed to do. In her heart, she knew what was coming, and Merlin, she wanted it, but other than mildly snogging Ron, this was new territory for her; reading surprisingly could only take her so far. But once Draco shut his bedroom door behind them, all fears and thoughts fled her mind as his arms encircled around her once more, her lips eagerly meeting his, finding a rhythm all of their own.

Leading them towards the destination he knew they would end up at, Draco lead Hermione towards his bed, stopping when the back of her legs lightly touched against it, the entirety of their motions eliciting a moan from her lips. By this time, her fingers had finished each of the buttons on his shirt, her hands sliding it over his shoulders where it fell to the ground. Their actions were so familiar, reminiscent of their night in the library, but entirely new. Alcohol can bring out feelings and sensations one might not feel otherwise, but this, this time, the two teenagers felt every movement, every moan, every breath the other made, and they wouldn't change it for the world. Slipping his hands under her shirt once again, Draco pulled her jumper and shirt off at the same time, leaving her once again in her emerald green bra.

"Who knew my sexy Gryffindor was wearing Slytherin colors all of this time." His voice was husky, lustful, in her ear.

"They're new," her voice was a whisper, rushed with her breathing. "You're the first to see them; the only one I ever want to see them."

Draco growled at her response, distracted entirely so that he didn't notice her fingers fumbling with his belt, pulling the leather material from his pants and tossing it to the floor. The swollen front of his pants entirely the focus of her attention.

Hermione sighed as Draco pushed her back onto the bed, roughly, but with a sense of gentleness in his motions. Instinctively, but not sure where her brazenness came from, she wrapped her legs around him, pulling their bodies flush together.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

Hermione smiled up at the boy above her. "I have an idea," she whispered in his ear before pressing her hips up into his.

Draco wasn't sure how much more he could take. Lifting her slightly and pushing her slim body further up the bed, his fingers moved to the rim of her jeans, pausing before continuing. Without even having to wait for her permission, her hands went down to meet his, unfastening the button for him, her hips rising for him to slide her jeans off, joining their pile of clothing on the floor.

Draco couldn't help but think a goddess lay before him. Hermione's skin had a glow to it, even in the dark of his room; her hair was bunched behind her head; clad in nothing more than her green bra and knickers he had never seen her look more beautiful. Leaning down to kiss her, his hand reached behind her back, unfastening her bra before she slide it out from around her arms. She knew she should be embarrassed at how she was exposed before him, but there was always time for embarrassment afterward, for once she was going to focus on the now, consequences thrown out the window. Instead she focused on his kisses, the way he, with the slightest touch of his hand made her back arch, yearning for more.

"Draco please." The moan that elicited itself from her mouth surprised her, yet she meant everything behind those two words. She wanted more. Taking command from the words of the only girl he could find himself wholly giving himself over to, Draco slipped his fingers beneath the lace of her knickers, leaving her entirely exposed to his wandering and adoring eyes. Merlin, how had he come to deserve her?

As his fingers smoothed over the sensitive skin of her thighs, Hermione struggled to push away the thoughts of nervousness out of her mind. As if he could read her mind, Draco stilled his movements, his hand resting on the inside of her thigh.

"I promise to not go any farther than you want to go. Say stop, and I'll back away."

Hermione could feel this was exactly what he didn't want to do.

"I want to. I've just…I don't know what I'm doing. What if I do something you don't like?"

Draco tried his best not to chuckle, but he did anyways. "There is no way you could do anything wrong. But we'll learn from each other. I promise. Over time, everything between us will only get better. It just takes practice, studying if you will."

"It's a good thing I love studying then." And with that she kissed him, both knowing there was now no turning back.

Continuing to kiss her, Draco gentle pushed her knees apart, his hand sliding over the soft skin of her inner thigh again before gently, slowly, running his fingers over her already moist, aroused inner lips. Hermione gasped with pleasure; touching herself had never felt that good and he had barely begun. With one hand cupping her cheek, he inserted two fingers into her, stilling them inside of her before he began to slowly, rhythmically move them in and out of her; in response her hips rocked back and forth, trying to make the small, yet intimate union between their bodies continuous. Gauging his speed by the sounds of her moans, the pleasurable gasps which elicited themselves from her swollen lips, Draco added another finger, this thumb rubbing itself over her swollen nub. Hermione couldn't suppress the strangled moan, the upward thrust of her hips at his menstruations; her body was at his mercy. Her breathes were short, ragged, mews and gasps continuously came from her, nothing was withheld.

Draco dipped his head, kissing down her neck onto the slightly freckled skin of her collar bone before dipping his head even further, kissing the swell of her breasts, his free hand sliding from her neck to cup and massage her. Her entire back arched. Draco pulled playfully on one of her peaked nipples, sucking on the sensitive region, gliding his teeth over one and then focusing his attention on the other. He was doing everything he could think possible to not lose himself in this moment, at least, not at this moment in time. Right now he wanted to focus on no one, but Hermione.

"Dra…Draco, ohhh."

Her voice was distinctly her own, yet the want, desire, and lust Hermione was feeling dripped from her words. Kissing his way back up to her neck, Draco lingered over her lips.

"Let me go down on you."

Had any one else asked if they could perform such an intimate act on her, she would have been offended, but Draco wasn't just anyone; not anymore.

"Please Draco, please."

He twitched at the desire in her voice. Kissing his way down her stomach, Draco placed a long, sensitive kiss just below her navel before descending his own lips onto her lower ones, his tongue gently parting her. Hermione nearly leapt of the bed. He lightly nipped at her swollen nub, pulling it through his teeth, listening to her moans grow louder and louder. He knew she was close. He dipped his tongue back inside of her, running it back and forth before returning his concentration on her sensitive bunch of nerves, his fingers replacing the void his tongue had left open; three fingers quickly moving in and out of her.

Hermione gasped, arching her entire back off the bed. "Draco, Draacoo. I'm going—I'm." Her entire body went stiff except for her hips which rocketed off the bed as her orgasm pulsed through her body. It was as if years of release emitted itself in a single moment, she felt everything much more strongly even though the very breath had been sucked out of her. She felt Draco smile against her sensitive skin, placing a few more kisses, his fingers continuing to move.

Moving back up to lay next to her, Draco rubbed his hand against her hip, capturing her lips with his. Hermione focused her concentration to his pants, unbuttoning them and sliding them over his hips, which Draco then pushed to the floor. His erection was blatantly apparent to her, straining against the fabric of his boxers. Brazenly, her hands made their way beneath the elastic of his boxers, grasping his entire length, gently squeezing him before moving her hands slowly moved up and down. Draco could do nothing in trying to suppress his satisfied moan, her name forming on his as his head fell backward. Removing her hands from him, she pulled his boxers off completely. Now nothing was between them.

Tightening her grip, her hand glided up and down his stiff erection, her other hand descending to cup his balls, gently rubbing them between her fingers. She let her thumb and forefinger massage his tip, moistening them with the promise of juices to come. Draco could barely focus, the wonder she was working on him.

Draco flipped Hermione over onto her back, attacking her lips and pinning her hands above her head, kissing her as if his life depended on it. Slowly, he began to kiss her at a more sensual pace as he positioned himself in front of her. Her hips slightly rocked forward, his tip just entering her swollen and ready netherlips. Both groaned in anticipation. Slowly, Draco entered into her. Hermione arched her back and brought her lips towards Draco's neck, hoping to hide from him the shock his intrusion was causing her. She was aware as each inch of him sliding into her, the pressure of their union and the slight discomfort of it all; but it was not entirely unwelcome. Draco's breathes were ragged as his filled her entirely, his body stilling as he waited for her to signal for him to continue. Noticing he was waiting for her, Hermione lovingly kissed his neck, sucking his skin between her teeth, relishing his salty taste. After a few moments, she cautiously moved her hips towards him.

"Hermione."

She loved the way her name sounded on his lips, the way he breathed it as he slowly began to thrust in and out of her, his rhythm amazingly smooth; the feel of him sliding in and out of her, the friction his smooth skin caused inside of her causing her breathing to become even more ragged before, her nipples peaking once again, her back arching entirely off the bed. She wasn't even aware when she began to move her hips in rhythm with him, quickly finding a pace which began to satisfy their frantic need for each other. Brazenly, Hermione bent one knee and wrapped her other leg around Draco's waist bringing them impossibly closer; any discomfort she may have felt before now a fleeting memory as she breathlessly whispered "faster."

Draco was now nearly frantically thrusting in and out of her, her name frequently finding life on his lips as he kissed every inch of skin he could reach. Hermione noticed as his movements became more radical, more uneven, before his entire body shook, "oh Hermione, 'Mione" ghosting over his lips as she felt him twitch from where he was buried deep within her, a warm sensation filling her body as he came within her. Cautiously, she moved her hips slowly against his as he came, offering him a last few seconds inside of her before his pulled out, his fingers replacing his now flaccid member, bringing her over the edge for the second time that night, her cries echoing through the room.

***The Following Morning, 9:45am***

Hermione stirred, a small yawn escaping her before she sighed and snuggled back into the body she was being held tightly against. Even with her eyes closed, a small smile arose in her features. While she certainly hadn't expected everything that had happened last night, she carried no feelings of regret. True, she had blushed as Draco watched her walk to the bathroom to clean up afterwards and to privately cast a contraceptive charm on herself, and yes, even now she was aware of the tightness and slight soreness she felt in her inner thighs, but for it being her first time, things were definitely lot better than she thought they would be. But then, most boys were obviously not the one sleeping beside her.

After returning from the bathroom, she had expected to gather her clothes and return to her own bed, but Draco had caught her hand and pulled her into him, kissing her temple and asking her to stay the night with him, his tone almost imploring her to remain in his bedroom. He had simply laid down, and pulled her into him, kissed her lightly on the lips and bid her a good night, a soft wish for sweet dreams before his arm loosened around her and he fell asleep; she following suit shortly afterward. The whole affair was almost unreal. It wasn't like many of the muggle movies she had seen; their coming together had taken nearly three months and the movies always seemed to rush things; and in her heart, she felt she truly was beginning to know Draco. She was pleased with her decisions, knowing that on both their behalves their actions the previous night had more to do with well-developed feelings rather than a pure moment of lust.

Draco could barely believe his good luck; how had the beautiful girl next to him actually let him into her life; where in her had she found the faith to believe in him and in return confide in him. If he knew her as well as he liked to think he did, Draco knew this was more than a one night stand; this was something he had never had before. Opening his eyes, he took in the sight of Hermione's hair cascading over her shoulders, the rise and fall of her bare chest as she breathed in, slow and steady, the curve of a smile on her lips. He watched as her eyes fluttered open.

"Good morning." A slight flush spread across her skin.

Draco turned to directly look at her.

"Morning."

Hermione's eyes flickered over his chest before he leaned in to kiss her, not at all ashamed of their nakedness. To his surprise, she pressed her body against his, one hand finding it's place on his neck, the other pressed against his lower back.

"It's almost time for breakfast," she whispered, aware of the minute grumble from his stomach. "Care to eat with me this morning?"

He raised his eyes to hers, holding her with his eyes. "Together?"

"I wasn't planning on letting you eat alone." Draco smiled. "Besides, I might need to quickly escape with you for round two."

"Who knew you were such a sexy talker."

"I've read a few books."

***Twenty Minutes Later, 10:05am***

The majority of Hogwarts student population was happily munching on breakfast as they chatted with their friends, excitement in their air about the Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff later that afternoon. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were animatedly talking about their upcoming match with Slytherin and the new tactics they hoped to employ when a sudden silence fell over the Great Hall. Students eyes went wide, hands pointing towards the front door, drawing their attention to the two students walking in together, hand in hand.

"Is that—Merlin Harry, is that Hermione." Ron's voice was ghastly quiet.

"It is." Replied Harry, the last few month's events suddenly clicking in his head as he saw his best friend walk into the room with the boy who used to be his enemy, but was now a friendly acquaintance. "She's with Malfoy. She looks, happy."

Ginny Weasley smiled, turning in her spot to look towards the door to watch her best friend walk in, a bright smile on her face as she chatted with the Head Boy, the pair of them making their way to the Gryffindor table. Through the warn material of her jumper, Ginny noticed a flash of green as Hermione walked; she'd made use of her Christmas present after all. Ginny smiled against as Hermione took the place next to her, quickly shooting a look at a sputtering Ron as Draco sat on the other side of the Head Girl.

"Good Morning Hermione. Morning Draco. Sleep well last night?"

Hermione turned to her friend, a small smile on her face as she fingered the neck of her jumper discretely revealing another flash of emerald green, one finger grazing over a swollen mark on her neck.

"Very well thank you. I didn't get to bed until late, but I slept well, very well."

"You'll have to tell me all about it."

"Come by after the game. I still need to thank you for your Christmas present." Ginny did not fail to notice the slight rise in Hermione's eyebrows.

The two girls returned to their plates, engaging Draco in conversation as Harry slowly began to speak with them as well; the group slowly becoming used to each other under these new, and certainly not momentary, circumstances. Draco gently squished Hermione's knee as she leaned into his shoulder.

It's about damn time, thought Ginny. But Merlin, she was going to have to teach that girl a better concealing charm.