Hermione was too shocked to move.

She probably should have shrieked and screamed at him for scaring her and not bothering to cover his eyes to protect her decency, but she didn't. She simply just stood there, her whole body left exposed for Malfoy to stare at…and he was doing quite a bit of staring right then, his eyes obviously slowly working up and down her naked body in front of him.

In that moment, he appeared to have completely forgotten about his past nastiness towards the brunette and his apparent resentment towards her that he had displayed almost every time she had been near since they'd met in first year. She could tell that all his past feelings about her being inferior had entirely been erased, as the way that he was looking at her in that moment…it was if she was a goddess that he was desperate to worship.

Draco slowly stood up from out of his chair, obviously trying his best not to break the spell cast between them. He stepped around the sofa, leaving his book on the coffee table and took a few steps across the room until he was standing in front of her.

There was no denying that puberty had been kind to Draco. His once lanky form had filled out a bit due to lots of Quidditch and had left him with a defined six-pack and strong muscular arms. He had also grown a few inches in height since the last time Hermione could remember really noticing how tall he was. His platinum blond hair was no longer slicked back harshly against his head, it had clearly been left to grow a bit and without the oil it looked more natural and his pale skin suited him in an unusual way, the thought of a tan on his body of any kind would have simply looked strange. This was also the first time she had been close enough to truly notice his eyes and she was surprised to find them a beautifully almost harrowing shade of bluey-grey. Hermione realised in shock that she was very attracted to the Malfoy heir who had spent his childhood telling her how ugly she was.

Still feeling very unsure with her situation she lowered her gaze, refusing to keep eye contact with him, terrified that she would see a sneer forming on his face that would turn into him mocking and laughing at her. She was exposed, vulnerable and without her wand and she didn't know what to do with herself. She could still feel his eyes on her and she immediately started to get even more self-conscious.

She knew she wasn't unattractive per-se, but she also knew that he had seen many women's bodies if the rumours were at all true, and her body would never be anything in comparison to those of the some of the women she knew he had seen undressed before.

Immediately she was horrified with herself, what did it matter what he thought of her? Why did she care?

All of a sudden, a thick and fluffy blanket was dropped down over her shoulders and Draco used it to pull Hermione into his arms, causing her to gasp in surprise.

She felt her naked breasts with pebbled nipples pressing firmly against the chiselled muscles on his chest and her breathing increased even more if that was at all possible and she started to quiver. If asked about this later, she would claim that this had nothing whatsoever to do with anything other than the chill of the night air, but, in reality, both Hermione and Draco knew it had naught to do with the cold.

Draco smirked at her body's reaction to being near him and then leant even closer to her and murmured seductively in her ear.

"You'll freeze to death walking around like that at this time of year, Granger, and that would really be a shame."

With that he turned to leave, wrapping the blanket completely around her, shielding her dignity once again before changing his mind at last minute to place a single lingering kiss on her lips and then he was gone, back into the depth of his personal bedroom.

The sound of the door closing gently finally snapped Hermione out of her shocked daze with horror.

What the hell had just happened?! Or more importantly, what had she just allowed to happen?

She slowly moved to sit in front of the fire, wrapping the blanket more tightly around herself. She had just stood there and let him look at, her amongst other things…

For a moment, he had held her and then kissed her.

It hadn't made her feel scared or uncomfortable really. Malfoy had not been nasty or harsh, nor had he laughed at her and insulted her- and these were the things she had learnt to expect from him through the years of constant bullying.

Maybe, just maybe, he had changed and he really did mean what he had said back on the train. He had grown up too, leaving his father's fanatical crap behind him.

Certainly, the war had changed Hermione drastically; she had grown up extremely fast due to not having a choice. In fact, she had almost completely skipped over the carefree years of her childhood due to the darkness that consumed the wizarding world. She had missed so much. But as had he by the look of things. Hell, he'd had Voldemort living in his home for goodness sake, there'd been no escaping it for him.

Hermione sighed loudly and closed her eyes, Ron was the first proper boyfriend she'd had and it was the first real relationship she'd ever been in- not counting Viktor Krum who she had simply kissed a few times between the bookshelves in the library. She'd never been blessed with a model's body like some of the other girls in their year so it made sense that she'd been overlooked. However, Hermione was no prude, she'd just had nobody interested enough to bring her out of her shell.

It was humiliating though.

No guy ever looked at her the same way they did other girls her age. She was Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's' golden girl, the brains behind the Golden Trio's success, and to be frank, she was sick of it.

Now the war was over, she had wasted the most part of her teens simply studying, getting good grades for both herself and the two boys and making sure that they had the knowledge on how to survive when the darkness settled. No guy saw her as a girl, merely a swot. She was never considered pretty, she was just fiercely intelligent and the one to talk to when you were struggling with an essay, not the kind of girl you'd ask out on a date.

Her own boyfriend had even decided that there were much better options out there available for him than her which did hurt more than she wanted to let on. They'd been friends for years, he was one of the only people who really knew the real Hermione…she'd had a crush on him for what seemed like forever, so for him to drop his pants for the first girl to throw herself at him when she wasn't around was like the ultimate betrayal. It was almost like a sick and cruel joke.

It was because of this that she did not feel even a small ounce of guilt. Ron had kicked up a fuss earlier that day simply because Malfoy had touched her arm, who knows what he would say if he knew about this…he would be completely furious. However, the thought of causing her asshole of a boyfriend even the slightest amount of the pain that he had caused her encouraged the tiniest of smiles to spread across her face.

A loud crashing noise from the Head Boys dorm brought Hermione's drifting attentions back to the issue at hand and it was almost like a lightbulb had lit up inside her head.

Draco Malfoy had made her feel desirable, not scared. He'd made her feel wanted and attractive and he was the first person to successfully manage that ever since fourth year at the Yule Ball. Yet, he was the one to have constantly called her filthy for years, to have made her feel hideous. In a way, his insults only succeeded in made her stronger as a person, but now, it was as if the world had gone capsized and the one boy who used to make her hate herself more than anybody else was now going to be the man to make her feel appreciated.

With a surge of sudden determination, Hermione stood up, grabbed her trunk and dragged it as fast as she could into her room where she quickly dug out her pyjamas – consisting of a baggy muggle t-shirt and a pair of shorts – and threw them on before grabbing the incriminating photos of her soon to be ex-boyfriend and marching out her room until she was stood in front of Draco Malfoy's door and she took one deep breath before knocking on the solid wood.

"Come in, Granger," called a voice immediately from behind the door and she did just that before she could change her mind.

"Malfoy, I need your help with something," she announced, scanning around his room looking for its inhabitant before finally finding him, wrapped up in bed in his black satin sheets. Typical.

"What could I possibly do for you that Potter or Weasley couldn't help you with?" he said quizzically, raising an eyebrow at her challengingly, putting down the book he had been reading prior to his interruption.

Hermione met his gaze and looked into his grey confused eyes for a good few seconds before sighing and walking across the room to pass him the photos in her hands. "Because it's about Ronald. I couldn't ask Harry what I want – what I need – to ask you."

"Granger, need I remind you that I am supposed to be the enemy? Potter hates my guts and so does the Weasel. Whatever it is you want to ask, is it really a good idea? They'll probably never talk to you again for associating yourself with me," Draco sighed, not even looking at what Hermione had given him.

"Yes, but you'd be the one conversing with a Mudblood. So, who'd really be the worst off?" she fired back at him, daring him to challenge her.

Shockingly enough, at the word 'Mudblood', Draco visibly winced and looked away from the witch who he'd seen naked not yet an hour ago, looking a lot shyer and even embarrassed now than he did then. He exasperatedly ran his hands through his blond hair and heaved a great sigh.

"I'm sorry I've been such a royal prick to you in the past, Hermione and I'm sorry that my Aunt…" he drifted off, his gaze lowering to zone in on her arm which showed the scar which she had subconsciously been covering with her hand; so used to hiding it from everyone.

Hermione openly gaped at him in shock. Had he just apologised to her? And called her by her first name for what was probably the first time ever? She quickly recovered her wits and steered the conversation back in the direction she wanted it to be in.

"Look, Malfoy, I don't want to play games here, what's in the past is in the past, now will you just shut up and look at the photos."

He looked momentarily surprised at her blunt dismissal of his apology, almost as if she hadn't believed him to be genuine. But then they made eye contact again and he saw what had really fuelled her response. She was too proud to want to accept his apology as that suggest that she'd been weak enough to need it. She truly was a brave Gryffindor through and through.

So, he looked at the photographs she'd handed him. And in that moment Draco knew exactly what Hermione needed his help for. Maybe it was the cunning Slytherin in him that made it so plainly obvious to him or maybe it was the fact that Hermione had moved so that she was sat on the corner of the bed, her long legs crossed patiently, her hand brushing lightly against his upper thigh through the silk sheets.

"Well well, Granger…You want to get even, don't you?"

"I do."

"You'd be willing to have a past Death Eater put his hands on you?"

"If this said past Death Eater was willing to put his hands on a 'filthy Mudblood'."

"You're not a 'filthy Mudblood'," he said quickly with a wince at the reminder of his words from the past. "I was stupid young and full of my father's supremacy crap. I've changed."

"I can see that. That's why I'm coming to you for help."

"Why me? Go ask Longbottom or one of the other Gryffindor's."

"Neville has a girlfriend and none of the Gryffindor boys would touch me. Not when there's nicer looking girls around."

"That's complete bullshit! You're…"

And then it went silent.

Hermione moved her hand away from his leg and instead focused all her energies in simply just looking at him. "I'm what, Malfoy?"

"Draco. Call me Draco," he murmured quietly, in response.

"Alright, Draco," Hermione replied, trying to ignore the shiver that ran through her body at addressing him by his first name…it made the whole situation seem even more real.

Draco let out a ragged sigh at hearing it too before trying to pull himself together. He ran his hand through his hair and sat up straight in bed. "Look, if we go through with whatever I think you're wanting to do, there will be no going back. Soon, the whole school would know; the whole world would know. The whole world would think you'd gone crazy. You're Potter's girl, nobody else's. Things would never work with Weasley for that reason. You and him…that's what's supposed to be happening right now. You're meant to be in his dorm on his bed right now, asking him to do the filthy things to you that I'm thinking about right now. Hermione, the last thing you need right now is to fuck a Death Eater."

Hermione closed her eyes and stood up, Draco's eyes not leaving her face for a second. "If you didn't want to do it, all you had to say was no. I know I'm nothing pretty to look at, but I assumed fucking me would only give you another notch to your bedpost, so to speak. You're screwed every other girl in our year and the year below."

"You're not mine to touch though, for merlin's sake!" he almost yelled exasperatedly. "You're pure. You're the light and I'm the dark."

"And you're being really poetic for someone who claims to be a Death Eater." Hermione sighed and closed her eyes momentarily. "I'm just going to go now. I'd just thought… you kissed me out there Malfoy, not the other way around. I'd assumed you didn't think I was hideous. Clearly I was wrong."

Suddenly it was like something inside Draco snapped, he almost growled and in all of about two seconds flat he'd jumped out of bed, caught Hermione before she had chance to reach the door and had thrown her onto his bed and had climbed on top of her.

"Listen to me right now, Hermione, I won't repeat this again. You are the most fucking gorgeous and sexy creature I've ever laid my eyes on, do you have any idea how many times I've fantasised about your naked little body writhing beneath mine as I fuck you?! Do you?!"

Hermione just looked up at him with her big brown eyes open wide in shock before they fluttered closed in pleasure as he caged her in with one hand next to her head, his other hand running down her body over the top of her pyjamas, being careful not to touch any specific sensitive areas, just massaging his strong fingers over her waist and hips as he carried on talking in a hushed sexually charged voice.

"I wanted so bad to just be civil to you this year, just to get along so we could co-exist in this living arrangement without killing each other. You clearly don't even understand how much of a minx you are, dropping your towel in front of me as if I'm not the guy you've hated for your whole time at this bloody school. I almost completely lost it then, I wanted to fuck you right there against the wall, but I didn't. And now you tell me that you think I think you're hideous and that's why I won't touch you?" he snorted in a very un-Malfoy like way, leaning closer toward her face, leaning so he was whispering into her ear. "Oh Kitten, how wrong you are. You're a goddess and you need worshipping accordingly…that's why I won't have you, I can't have you, not yet anyway."

He stood up gracefully, separating the contact between them completely, – both of them trying to ignore the bulge barely contained in his pyjama bottoms – picked up the photos again and briefly studied them before tossing them on the bed next to the shocked Gryffindor who was looking up at him, the surprise still evident on her face, but also the arousal she felt was incredibly visible just by her expression.

"I loved that momentary very-Slytherin urge you just had to get revenge on the Weasel, but you'd wake up tomorrow regretting everything and hating me even more than you already do for letting you ruin your life during the space of just one night," he said almost sadly and much to her embarrassment, he was probably right. She would deny ever finding him attractive, merely saying he'd just been a means to an end. There was no doubt he was the one-person Ron hated more than anybody in the world…it would be the perfect revenge, but also completely unfair on him.

"When I make you mine, Hermione," he carried on, "it will be the most intense and all-consuming experience of your limited sexual life, and I don't want it clouded right now and you only wanting it because you want to get back at your boyfriend for having wandering eyes. When I take you, Granger, it will be for one solitary reason: because you begged me to. Right now, you don't know what you want."

By the time Draco had finished talking, Hermione could feel herself getting both incredibly aroused but also exceedingly angry. It would have been fine if he'd have said no for himself, but for him to deny her what she was asking for because he though he knew what was best for her…that did not sit well with the fiercely independent Gryffindor at all. She was no child, she was capable of making her own decisions and dealing with any possible consequences. And to prove that, she very quickly grabbed Draco, catching him by surprise and pinning him underneath her.

He opened his mouth to say something but he was immediately cut off by Hermione's lips on his, harsh and dominating. She pulled back breathlessly and went to leave – grabbing the photographs on her way out – she stopped with one hand on the door handle and turned back to face the stunned Slytherin who still looked rather dazed by her forwardness.

"I don't want anybody to hear about tonight, Malfoy. I can't have rumours flying around that I'm nothing better than a slut ready to throw all my clothes off at the sight of you."

His expression melted into a sexual smirk and he chuckled quietly before reminding her, "But you did throw off your towel when you saw me, Granger. Remember?"

Hermione spluttered incoherently, her face flushing tomato red, trying to defend herself but couldn't seem to form any kind of comeback so she simply huffed and stormed out of his room, slamming the door behind her.


The next few weeks were equally as challenging. Thoroughly embarrassed by her behaviour on their first night in the heads dorms, Hermione was determined to avoid any possible contact with Malfoy in which she was left on her own with him. This was proving to be more difficult however than she initially believed possible.

Especially because she had to share a bathroom with the bastard.

Every morning was a highly traumatic and stressful affair and Hermione constantly lay in bed at night awake until the early hours worrying about it. She would have to wake stupidly early in order to get to the bathroom first as Draco was also an early riser like herself and enjoyed showering before going down to breakfast. She told herself she wanted to get to the shower first because she didn't want to use it straight after he had, knowing he'd been stood in there naked. But the reality was much worse and frankly it made her cheeks flush whenever she thought about it.

The morning after the first night in the new dorms Hermione was woken at about six thirty to the sound of the shower running and soft long moans coming from the bathroom. At first, she was immediately worried he was injured, and – like the sensible and diligent Head Girl she was – jumped out of bed to rush in and make sure he was alright. But then, just before she tore open the bathroom door, he moaned again and it became very clear Malfoy was not in any sort of danger or pain. In fact, he sounded like he was quite enjoying himself.

Hermione made sure to run the shower as hot as it would go for a good few minutes to cleanse it before braving stepping inside the glass cubical herself after the Malfoy heir had finished with his morning routine.

So, every morning Hermione did her best to claim the bathroom first, one day however she forgot to lock the door leading to the Head Boy's room. She had been happily shampooing her hair when the Slytherin boy wearily walked into the room to brush his teeth, their eyes met in the mirror and both started screaming, Hermione trying to shield her body from his prying eyes – again – and Malfoy simply yelling because she had scared the crap out of him and caused him to get toothpaste in his eye after nearly poking it out with his toothbrush in surprise. Suffice it to say she remembered to lock that door every single morning after that incident.

So distressed, in fact, about the Draco situation, Hermione had actually not gotten around to speaking to Ron about the photos. She had them locked away in a secret drawer at the bottom of her dressing table, along with her extended beaded bag (used to carry all the equipment the trio needed when they were on their hunt for horcruxes), documents revealing her parents' location in Australia and her few pieces of expensive jewellery. But, due to the fact that Ronald still appeared to be doing his best to stay clear of both Hermione and Harry, it really was made far too easy for her to try and avoid the whole awful situation.

She waited for the guilt to come for what conspired between her and the new Head Boy, but it never did. Not even when the dreams started. Dreams that left Hermione breathless after waking and disappointed that they weren't real. Dreams that she spent the rest of the day reliving in her mind. If Draco Malfoy was half as good in bed in real life as he was in her dreams she was even more frustrated that she never got to experience it that evening when she'd asked him to help her get her own back on Ronald.

No, she refused to feel bad when she knew Ron was still playing the victim, angry at one touch when he'd been doing a lot of touching of his own, expecting her to run back to him with apologies. Obviously, that wasn't going to happen now that she knew what he was up to now she no longer inhabited Gryffindor tower.

Unfortunately, Harry had been uncharacteristically observant recently and had noticed that there was something out of the ordinary plaguing his best friends' thoughts and he was doing everything in his power to get her to spill the metaphorical beans. He had tried almost every trick in the book when it came to figuring out what was bothering Hermione, including offering to accompany her to the library to cheer her up when he didn't even need to go himself. But her lips remained sealed.

At least until the second batch of photographs arrived.

Malfoy had been sat in their common room waiting for her to get back when she entered through the portrait hole after dinner and after seeing her, he jumped up and determinedly strolled over to her and held out the envelope.

"I didn't open it, but the note attached told me enough," he explained straight-faced. "Granger, don't tell me this is still going on, it's been weeks since you found out."

She had taken the package without directly looking at him and briefly read the note.

Your boyfriend still playing the field? The Granger I know would have hexed his bollox off by now.

She growled quietly under her breath and tore open the envelope, not even caring that the blond Slytherin was still standing in front of her, just as riled up to see what was inside as she was.

The gasp that tore its way through her sealed lips at the sight of the photographs was accompanied by a sharp intake of breath from Draco.

"That's Pansy Parkinson…" he hissed, grabbing the photos from out of Hermione's stiff fingers to examine them more closely. "And that's her dorm room back in the Slytherin common room."

"Well, that's wonderfully helpful, thank you; being able to identify a girl by her bare arse and the wallpaper behind her makes this so much easier for me to deal with," she snapped, snatching the photographs back.

"I didn't mean it like that Granger and you know I didn't," he retorted similarly. "I'm just surprised. She hates the Weasley's."

"And Ronald claims to despise the whole of the Slytherin House," Hermione muttered under her breath. "The other girl was a blonde…he's sleeping around with multiple people…" she realised slowly in defeat. "He's not spoken to me or Harry since we got to Hogwarts after that whole incident with you on the train. He was furious that I'd allowed you to touch my arm…" she confessed, not entirely sure why she was admitting all of this to the man she'd almost been trying to hide from since that first night.

"He's a bloody fool," Draco snarled angrily, walking away to go and stand next to the fireplace so that his back was to her. "That ginger git needs to be punished."

"You're right, but I don't want to burst into the common room all hell blazing and announce to everyone that he's been cheating on me. It's…it's embarrassing." Her sentence fizzled out, her voice very quiet so much so that she was amazed Malfoy had even been able to hear her.

"What on earth do you have to be embarrassed about though, Hermione? Answer me that?" he snapped, turning to face her again, the fury on his face almost terrifying. But Hermione wasn't scared of him as she knew the anger was not directed at her.

She put the photographs in her bag with a sad sigh and moved to flop down into the sofa, hoping the cushions would just swallow her whole. Without a word, Draco moved silently to sit next to her and they both sat and watched the flames dance in the fire. When she was ready to talk, she muttered out her answer to his question.

"Everybody always said I'd never get a boyfriend, a real one anyways who truly cared for me. I wanted to prove them all wrong for so long and I finally felt…I don't know, wanted? Like a normal girl? I just want to be normal…" she admitted tiredly, letting her head fall back and her eyes close.

"Granger, you will never be normal. You're far too extraordinary for that," Malfoy replied and then she felt his hand take hold of one of hers and squeeze gently.

"They will all laugh at me…saying it was about time he cheated…girls like me don't get a happily ever after. At least not one with a partner included. Don't get me wrong, I don't need a guy in my life to make me successful, I know that. But it would…it would just be nice, you know. But I know I'm too much of a handful."

Then it was silent for what felt like a very long time before either of them spoke again, their hands remaining entwined however.

"For an incredibly intelligent woman you can be really thick sometimes, Granger," Draco eventually said.

"Thank you," she just replied, not asking him to elaborate before standing up and letting go of his hand. "I'll send him an owl asking to talk tomorrow in free period. I'll confront him then. I don't want to publically ruin the years' worth of friendship we've had any more than it's already been ruined."

"Does Potter know?" Draco asked suddenly.

"No. I haven't told anybody else, other than you," she replied, not sure why he was asking.

"As much as I dislike him, having him on your side would probably not do you any harm," he suggested with a shrug, standing too so that he could peel his black sweatshirt off over his head, clearly too warm sitting so close to the fire with it on.

"I'll owl Harry too then…" Hermione started before getting distracted at the sight of the pale stomach muscles Malfoy accidentally showed off as he shirt rode up as he pulled off his jumper.

The two made eye contact again and this time it was all pent up sexual energy, the air between them felt electric and Hermione began to feel her feet moving her towards Draco so she was stood right in front of him.

"I don't understand this," she whispered, her hand tentatively reaching up to touch the side of Draco's neck as her eyes raked over his face looking for any suggestion that his silence meant he was in agreement with her. "I don't understand how I can't get you out of my head."

Draco's grey eyes looked back at her heatedly, watching her curiously to see what her next move would be. But he was thrown completely by what she did next.

She reached down for his left arm, the one that had the scars left of his dark mark on it and he immediately withdrew, knowing exactly what she was about to do, taking a few steps backwards away from her and reflexively pushing her away.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, looking embarrassed with the brashness she'd just displayed. "I just…"

"You just what, Granger? Wanted to remind yourself why it's wrong to feel like the way you do? Remind yourself why you can't fuck a death eater?" he spat at her angrily, causing her to recoil, a fiery look appearing on her face too in retaliation as she straightened her shoulders and made herself stand tall even though she felt so small in that moment.

"No, actually, Malfoy. If you're so quick to jump to conclusions maybe you're right, I should stay away," she replied, grabbing her things and heading towards her room with her head held high.

"Then why would you want to go looking for that then if it wasn't to remind yourself of who I really am?" he demanded, clearly pissed off that she seemed to think she could avoid the topic of conversation by simply walking away.

He was about to yell after her and call her a coward for not answering him when she spun back around and glared at him with unshed tears in her eyes.

"I showed you mine, I thought maybe you'd show me yours. We all have scars from the war, but we can't let them define us."

And with that, she locked herself in her bedroom and cried for the rest of the night until sleep found her hours later.