Neither one of them could place when everything had changed, when it had switched from the secret encounters that they had begun to have as "experimentation" and "satisfying needs" to what it was now. The line wasn't a black and white one, instead it was more of a grey that faded from the white of Hermione's soul to the black of Draco's, never having either one perfectly there in between but they both knew what it was. It was emotionless, it was pointless. Boundaries were made and lines drawn up. This was only what it was.

At least that's what Draco kept trying to tell himself as he grabbed a handful of Hermione's hair from the back of her head, pulling himself deeper into her as she whimpered out in pain.

"What are you?!" He demanded out of her, hissing the words into her ear as a rush went up her spine. "I SAID WHAT ARE YOU?!" He growls again, pulling her hair back a little bit further as he felt her clench up around him.

"I'm…I'm a mudblood." She whimpered out, as if in shame. It was all an act, they both knew it but it wasn't the point. The point was that right now, Draco felt the power that he couldn't feel anywhere else. The Dark Lord was demanding of him to kill one of the most powerful wizards alive, Albus Dumbledore, and his father was away in Azkaban. Right now, he needed this to feel like more of a man. To feel like he was the one in charge and Hermione needed it too, he knew. The fact that he was rough with her made it so that she could no longer pretend he was Weasley whenever they did anything, a point he tried to make clear. Right now, she didn't even want to pretend he was Weasley, it hurt her too bad the thought of what Ron was doing with Lavender probably at this very moment. She wanted an escape, the one thing Draco had always been for her, and there he was.

"You're a mudblood WHAT!?" He hissed out again, grabbing her hips.

"I'm…I'm a mudblood sir." She answers, knowing the drill. She was the one who had originally asked for this. Back in their second year, the curiosity was killing her. She wanted to know what it was like to kiss a boy, as she had read about so much in her mother's old romance novels that had been lying around the house the summer before. She wanted to know what it was like to feel that jolt of electricity, the butterflies in her stomach as a man delicately cradled her cheek with his hand and kissed her lightly on the lips. That was what she wanted, but she didn't want the name to go with it, as other girls such as Romilda Vane and Lavender Brown had already started to earn themselves, feeling every need to kiss any boy who looked at them the right way and even go so far as to show off their training bras. That wasn't what Hermione wanted, she wanted respect and to be looked at for more than just her body, for her mind. So instead of asking Ron or Harry to be her first kiss, they were just starting to show her respect, she went to the one boy who wouldn't have the nerve to pipe up about it and told him what she wanted.

"I want you to kiss me," She had told him.

"Are you insane? Do you realize who you are talking to, mudblood? Why the bloody hell would I want to kiss you?" He answered, snarling his nose in disgust.

"Listen," The then twelve-year-old Hermione had told him. "I don't even like you okay, I just want to know how it feels to kiss a boy and I don't want to kiss one that will run and tell all his friends. With me being a muggle-born, I know you won't. Please?" She looked up at him, her doe-like eyes causing him to cave.

"Fine," Draco answered, looking around to make sure no one could see them. "Once. And you tell no one, do you hear me?"

"If I wanted to tell someone, I would have kissed Ron or Harry." Hermione answers, proving a point.

"Fine," Draco tells her, slicking his hair back before he pressed his lips up to hers a bit too rough. He didn't have the nerve to tell her it was his first time kissing too, so instead he simply acted like he knew what he was doing and hoped that it worked.

It did as Hermione felt the butterflies soaring through her stomach. The electricity shot up through her spine and into her hands as she reached out and took Draco's, holding them as they shared that moment hidden down an abandoned corridor.

"Thank you," Hermione had whispered, smiling at him.

"Hey Granger," He said as she started to walk off, causing her to turn around.

"Yes?" She asked, the smile still covering her face.

"If you ever want to…I mean…you're still a mudblood and all but…"

"I'll let you know." She answered, skipping down the halls back towards her class. That was why, at first, it had hurt so bad when Draco called her a mudblood. His kiss said so much more than what his words did but they both hurt just as bad. Eventually she grew used to him using the term, realizing that once they got alone, it was a completely different story than what it was like when they were in the presence of Harry, Ron, Crabbe, or Goyle. When they were alone, they didn't have to hate each other, although it helped.

It wasn't until fourth year, whenever Hermione was impatiently waiting for Ron to ask her to the Yule Ball that she and Draco once again came to a similar agreement. This time, what Hermione was giving him was much more precious than what she had before. She wanted to become a woman.

"Please?" Hermione asked, tears in her eyes. "I don't want to get a trashy name because I am curious or because I trust a guy too soon. If my needs are being met here then-"

"I can't Granger," Draco answered, staring at her in the broom closet, "What if you get attached? We both know we can't…let this be anything more."

"I won't get attached." Hermione promised him, "But I need something to take my mind off of it. Please?"

Draco couldn't say no as he looked into her eyes. They promised him that it was still simply romping, nothing more.

"Fine," He answered, "Meet me tonight, down at the Lake at ten o'clock. I'll do it there."

"Thank you!" Hermione squealed, almost a bit too loud. If Flitch would have been walking by, he would have heard them.

"Don't thank me Granger, just do it." Malfoy answered, opening the door and leaving the broom closet.

That night as he wrapped his arms around Hermione, they both went to a place they had never been before. Draco did everything he figured he was supposed to first, kissing her passionately as he allowed his hands to wander down her legs and then back up her thighs until he felt her warm, tender core. He laid her back into the grass as he kissed her sweetly, looking at her breasts in the moonlight as he kissed his way over her body, enjoying the sweet taste of her skin. Finally, he positioned himself over her, warning her ahead of time that it was probably going to hurt, to which she nodded understandingly as he pushed his way forward, entering her for either of their first times. He couldn't believe the warmth as he tried to stay in one place long enough for her pain to go away before moving inside of her until both of them came together, holding each other close as they enjoyed, once again, another first moment together.

Come the next morning, things were no different as Draco sat down at the Slytherin table and Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table, mingling with Ginny about who she was going to take to the Yule Ball. Draco's name never got mentioned.

Draco was the first one to introduce the rougher side of sex into the equation of "satisfying their needs." Because according to the two of them, it was nothing more than that. He couldn't remember exactly when it was or how the conversation went about but eventually Draco had started falling for Hermione and insisted (to himself, since he would never admit it to Hermione) that he needed to be punished for liking the mudblood.

It started off with the use of the Room of Requirement in Fifth year, using a bed that had handcuffs attached, Draco would have Hermione take charge, leaving him helpless and defenseless against her as he begged her for mercy from the mixture of pleasure and pain she was giving him by running her nails down his chest and back. Then, it led to the spanking, making Draco feel like, even though no one knew, he was getting punished for falling for Hermione. That worked out well for the two of them, that is, until Lucius got put in Azkaban. Now, it was this.

"I…I'm a mudblood sir." Hermione whimpered as Draco pulled out of her, tossing her onto the bed in the Room of Requirement that they had so often romped on prior to this.

"What did I tell you?" He hissed at her, both of them still knowing the safe word in case things got too rough. 'Hufflepuff' was the word they had agreed on, both of them figuring that other than a safe word, it would never get used while they were in the bedroom.

"That I am to always call you sir, Mister Malfoy." Hermione answered, looking up at him innocently.

"Exactly," Draco answered, "Now, as payback…Crucio." He hollered out. He didn't have his wand in his hand, but the way they played it out, he didn't need it. Hermione heard the word and automatically wretched around, screaming as if she were in pain. It made Draco feel better, listening to her holler out like that, even if she was acting and it wasn't real and she trusted him enough not to be hiding his wand when he did it. It gave Draco a feeling of power, of satisfaction, a feeling that Hermione was more than willing to give him.

That night, as they continued on with their naked affairs, Hermione and Draco were both allowed to leave the worlds they were being forced to live in. Hermione didn't have to think about Lord Voldermort, Tom Riddle, Harry, Ron, or Lavender. She didn't have to face the day ahead of her. Draco didn't have to concentrate on how he was supposed to kill Dumbledore, how Snape was breathing down his neck, making sure he did it right, or how his father was still away in Azkaban. Because no matter how horrible the world seemed, whenever they were alone, Draco and Hermione found peace in knowing that no one knew where they were. They found peace in the fact that the other one was Their Sweet Escape.