FanFiction Name:

Author: Violet Granger ( )

Start date: 1/11/2012

Rating: M

Themes and warnings: Romance, Action, lovers quarrel, infidelity, lemons.

A/N: I have another account on here but I'm not telling any of you who I am here's the clue: Time turner. For some it should be easy. The reason behind my mysterious disappearance is that I'm leaving a life of bad FanFiction behind (unless you liked the long one I wrote) and starting anew with something hot. Enjoy!

Hermione Granger hastily pulled herself out of the empty conference room door on the Department of International magical cooperation and let the door silently close behind her as she straightened her purple and black striped pencil skirt and fixed the last few buttons of her lavender coloured shirt. Even under the strange circumstance, Hermione was more than grateful that her brown hair was more tameable since using the permanent sleek-easy potion, which as a result hadn't straightened it completely – it was still frizzy and curly – it just looked less of a birds nest than it did in first year.

Hermione sighed to herself and quickly pulled out her hand mirror, and gazed lazily at the small red love bite on her neck. She scowled at it. A simple beauty charm would do the trick but she'd rather he not bite her during their encounters. It was all him – Hermione had never bit him, he always bit her. A mark of his on her body to show that secretly, he owned her. He owned her sexually more than Ron Weasley could ever imagine. The thought of Ron filled her head and then she decided the ultimatum.

She decided that it would not happen again.

But it always did. No matter how much she tried not to think about him – about him touching her, his kisses and the way he circled his arms around her waist like a snake…no. Hermione knew that this had to stop. For Ron's sake, she had to stop this illicit affair or else she'll pay the hard way.

Quietly, Hermione rounded the corner and did the one thing she knew she did well – straighten her back, breathe in through her mouth and brace herself for any people questioning her warebouts in the last half an hour. She would say that she went to get something to eat, or went home to feed crookshanks quickly – but in her heart, Hermione knew that what she was doing was completely and morally wrong.

She stopped immediately before entering the atrium and turned on her heels to face the hallway and the room she just came from, quizzically, she waited for him to come out after her.

The conference door opened and Draco Malfoy dressed sharply in his grey suit and robe in his arms, stepped out and took one look at Hermione, before winking at her and turning the other way. She felt herself blush and pressed her back against the wall, closing her eyes, all she saw was the annoying yet misunderstood seventeen year old boy with flaxen blond bangs in Hogwarts – by the time they were twenty, and Draco had his redemption, he was back on top in the wizarding world and a favourite in the ministry of magic. Dating the ridiculously sexy and dirty rich Astoria Greengrass, he presumably had everything a young entrepreneur could want.

Except, Astoria didn't have the one thing Draco wanted in a woman.

The war came and went. People were forgiven and others were scrutinised. Harry, Ron and Hermione were all surprised with the mercy the ministry gave to those involved with the war. Lucius Malfoy was sentenced to Azkaban for fifty years, while Narcissa got off when she lied about Harry's death to Voldemort himself. His sick-bitch aunt Bellatrix Lestrange was dead for all she was worth. All Malfoy had was his mother, who according to Witch Weekly was spending her time in France.

When the war ended, Hermione Granger decided to continue her education at Hogwarts for her final year, and passed every single N.E.W.T exam with flying colours. She was head girl and guess who was head boy? Draco Malfoy. Back then, they still loathed each other, but neither knew by the time they were both 22, they would be fucking each other from Monday to Sunday. Her relationship with Ron at the time was reaching a breaking point, and by the first time she slept with Malfoy, they had broken up after he cheated on her with Lavender Brown. Hermione forgave Lavender – she wasn't that kind of person, really. She didn't forgive Ron until he literally begged her to take him back. He was a mess back then. So they got back together, and everything seemed completely fine for a few months until he came home drunk one night…Hermione went to the ministry to finish some paperwork and ran into Draco who was doing the same thing…and the next minute, she woke up blindly naked on the carpet behind the desk in Malfoy's office with her legs wrapped around him, her bare chest pressed to his front and her lips pouty from all the kissing.

It happed all the time since then.

Except for Sundays. She visited her parents on Sundays.

The funny thing was, Hermione never felt like a whore or a home-wrecker. She very well knew that Draco wasn't happy with Astoria who, in fact, was cheating on Draco herself with Theodore Nott. Ron was sleeping with a mysterious black-haired girl that played on his favourite quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, and Hermione went on with her life by pretending Ron wasn't screwing around and that she was as celibate as a nun in a confessionary. That of course, was a huge fucking lie.

Draco Abraxas Malfoy is one of the most desired wizards in the world in the 21st century. He's got girls fawning over him at every corner, and as much as Hermione hated to admit it – he's a looker, too. Pale blond bangs covering his stormy grey eyes that always match his suit, he has a cheeky smile that could make hundreds of women faint and send their ovaries exploding sky high. He wasn't muscly, thank God – she hated that. But to her, behind the money, behind the women and the success, he was always the scrawny, pale and pureblood fascist he was when they were kids.

The only problem was that he had changed.

He was nicer.

War changes people – Hermione knew that. Draco donated millions of galleons to wizarding charities in aid to help those who lost their homes and everything they had. That didn't make him a saint. To some women, Hermione guessed, that they thought he was a God. Hermione rolled her eyes. He never even took pride in it; he always just gave it and carried on with his life without taking a second glance. That was the cold part of him that would never go away even if you slapped him in the face with a thousand rainbows.

So that was it, Hermione thought. She was sleeping with Draco Malfoy. He was sleeping with her. Ron was cheating on Hermione. Hermione was cheating on Ron. Astoria was cheating on Draco with Theodore Nott. Draco was cheating on Astoria.

What kind of fucked up place is she living in?

Well, at least Harry was happy. He was 'the boy who lived' after all. He deserved true happiness with Ginny Weasley after all the shit he'd been through – they were inseparable from the second the war ended and in love with each other completely.

On some days when Hermione couldn't sleep at night, she'd grab Crookshanks and sit by her bedroom balcony and stare at the moon – and wonder where her personal life all went wrong. She and Ron had their own apartments. Fucking other people whilst in a 'committed' relationship was one thing – but moving in together while doing it was another. Hermione needed her personal space. Her own sanctuary (in reality, her real sanctuary was her study – wall to wall books everywhere she turned).

Hermione entered the atrium and coyly walked past several dozens of wizards making their way back to their offices after the lunch break. As she entered the elevator to go get Lavender for Care of Magical Creatures assessment followed by the Auror meeting with Harry and Ron, her stomach growled. She frowned. She missed lunch. Lavender was ready to go by the time she got there. The ironic thing about Hermione and Lavender was that they became closer friends even after she discovered her infidelity with Ron two years ago. They were never on the best of terms in school but soon Lavender, who knew Hermione preferred to keep people away from her on weekends, always came over around the time Eastenders was on with a tub of strawberry ice-cream and Chinese food.

Lavender didn't know that Hermione was sleeping with Draco.

She wouldn't tell her yet. For the life of her, Lavender couldn't keep her mouth quiet if she tried. She used to blurt things out in the middle of the Gryffindor girl's dormitory – so how was Hermione supposed to let something she'd bottled up for months, nearly a year, and tell blabbermouth brown? (That was the nickname Lavender never knew she had but everyone else called her that behind her back, anyways.)

On Hermione's 22nd birthday, Draco bought her three things: A three year gift card to a luxury spa in France, flights and hotels included – a sapphire necklace with the jewel in the shape of a tear drop – and a one-and-only aged copy of Shakespeare's Sonnets worth over 2.3 million in the UK alone. God, she hated him. But it seemed like the more they carried on, the more they knew about each other. Hermione knew he hated strong coffee, and only drank it milky.

Astoria couldn't cook or brew coffee at all. Draco was allergic to lily flowers and blueberries which consequentially, were Hermione's favourite toast spread to have on a Sunday morning. They never slept together in Malfoy Manor. During the week, they'd go to his apartment in Muggle London that apparently, was as luxurious as Malfoy Manor as expensive, too. He respected her space and never insisted going to hers.

On Draco's 21st birthday, Hermione bought him a pair of personalised pure silver cufflinks with the initials D.M moulded together across the front. They changed between gold and silver throughout the week. He loved them. Hermione relished on the fact that he was wearing them today, especially when unclasping them as she unhooked her bra. Those are the only ones he wears, now.

"You alright, Hermione? You look a little…distracted." Lavender said, popping a piece of pink bubble-gum in her mouth and started chewing like there was no tomorrow. She had given up smoking three months ago and got hooked to hubba bubba-bubble-gum the second she saw it in the corner shop.

Hermione felt like screaming the truth out to the rooftops, but she was much smarter than that. Instead, she shook her head and continued with: "No, I'm fine. Just thinking about what to cook for dinner tonight." Ron was supposed to come over for dinner at hers that night. For a split second, Hermione was genuinely concerned with what she was actually going to cook for him, but then realised that he might not even show up. He'd use the excuse about working extra to pay for rent, or a 'surprise gift' he thought Hermione would think for herself, but it never was. Their relationship wasn't always loveless. Ron wanted kids more than anything, but Hermione wanted a career and nothing more until she was at least 28. After all, her parents didn't have her until they were thirty.

"Why don't you do that mushroom ravioli you made for me when I was sick? Or the chicken soup – that was amazing." Lavender grinned at her. "He'd love it Hermione, I reckon. Why don't you do that?"

Hermione nodded and took in her answer with kindness by smiling back at her. "I think I will, Lav. Thanks a million."

Lavender hooked her arm around Hermione, blew a bubble, popped it, and they hurried to the conference room.

After the conference, Lavender split up from Hermione to go send an owl to Neville Longbottom, who was currently training to be a Herbology teacher in Hogwarts. He and Lavender were the odd couple. Hermione hurried to the Auror department and as she opened the door, a ball of fire the size of a plum shot right at her and she ducked as it hit the wall behind her. Hermione's hair flew up and had her wand at the ready.

"Sorry, Hermione!" Harry yelled at her from across the room. The boy with the round glasses grinned sheepishly and put his wand on the desk table. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"You need to get those glasses checked, Harry." Ron stepped into view and waved at his girlfriend. "Hey, love."
Hermione felt like flinching. He wasn't home last night and she called him five times throughout the day. She shrugged it off and carried on. "I'm fine, Ron. Really – I just came for practice." She looked around for Ginny who was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Ginny?"

"She's at home. Sick." Harry said glumly. "Molly's been feeding her chicken soup in doses from the minute she sneezed last night."
"She'll be fine, Harry. Don't worry; Gin's as strong as a horse."

Padma Patel and Seamus Finnegan strolled through the Aurora office door, but not before glancing at the gaping burnt hole in the wall. "What the hell happened?" Seamus asked the others.

"Harry needs to go to Specsavers." Hermione murmured to herself, and Harry laughed, while Ron looked at them confusedly.

"What's Specsavers?" He asked.

"Nevermind. But yeah, I nearly socked hermione in the face with Incendio." Harry said, giving Hermione an apologetic look.

"You were an inch away from getting her head blown off, Potter." A voice snarled from behind Hermione. She was hesitant to look around so didn't. Silence.

"Are you going to move out of the way Granger or do I have to pick you up and put you somewhere else myself?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, he couldn't see it but the others could. She gripped her wand in hand but moved nonetheless, but not before turning to face Malfoy, who had that flushed look on his face. The same I-want-you-right-here-right-now look was burning through his steel-grey eyes.

"Good afternoon to you too, Malfoy." She cocked her head to the side and fluttered her eyes, "How was your lunch break?"

He didn't smile but she could see that he wanted to. Draco nodded. "Spent it with Nott and Astoria." He looked at the others. "Is the meeting here or are we just standing here like idiots whilst trying to set Granger on fire or what?"

God, I love it when she does that, Draco thought as Hermione fluttered her eyelashes at him. Ah yes, he had taught her well. He taught her how to hide her just-fucked hair and face after fucking, and she was a pro at it, no doubt. She had the most beautiful eyes – more entrancing than Astoria's pale blue ones. There was something warm about them…but he couldn't put his finger on it. Her hair was still a mess – but somehow the witch managed to tame it enough to be passed as hair and not an actual bird's nest. In bed while she slept, he always played with ringlets of her hair by twisting it around his fingers and watching her hair splay out across the silk of his bed sheets. She told him that they were comfortable one night, so he bought her the same bed, the same bed sheets in five different colours the next day and had it delivered by 6pm.

Draco Malfoy knew it was just sex and nothing more. No romance. The closest thing relatable to romance with their affair is the art of having mind-blowing sex and kissing all the same. Neither of them had said the word 'love' to each other yet, thank merlin. As the Auror meeting continued, Draco took it upon himself to have some fun with Granger while they listened to Kingsley at the meeting. While she was busying herself taking notes, Draco had sat himself next to her and was watching Kingsley intently while reaching over and placing his hand on her knee. Hermione didn't move an inch, but she definitely seemed to have taken notice of what he was doing.

Carefully, he slid his hand up her skirt, stroking her inner thigh…and that's when Hermione moved a little. She parted her pink lips, the ones that Draco so desperately wanted to ravish with his mouth, and she breathed in lightly, before letting out a small sigh. His fingers reached her underwear, and as Hermione finished the last word of her sentence in her notepad – he went home.

Hermione let out the most un-Hermione-ish squeak.

"Hermione, you alright?"

She looked at Harry and nodded her head. "Just – tired, that's all. Sorry minister." She apologised to Kingsley, and he continued with his speech. She felt Draco slide his fingers against her, and she wanted to pounce on him right then and there. This wasn't funny. He hadn't done something like this in around two months. He was toying with her and good Merlin, she loved it. His grey eyes flicked towards her and caught her fiery gaze. She mouthed the word "you." and narrowed her eyes at him. Draco smirked and when he was nearly done, Hermione crossed her legs so his hand was trapped. He shot her a questioning glare before she smirked right back at him and shyly yet seductively bit her lip. She knew that it drove him up the wall when she did that. And no one else seemed to notice.

Draco felt his pants harden.

Ah yes, he had most definitely taught Hermione Granger, know-it-all bookish extraordinaire, very well.

A/N: First chapter finished, right on. What do you guys think? Getting hot now or what? Mind you, I haven't written FanFiction in months. Stay tuned for chapter two – by the way, I'm writing these beforehand so the chapters will keep on shooting up so check for updates every two days or so.

Peace out!

S.D