The next morning when Malfoy woke up, Hermione was already gone. He saw she had repaired the shattered vase and her clothes that he had torn, which were folded in a neat pile on the couch. He also noticed his shirt and pants folded in a pile next to his door. He picked them up gingerly, as though Hermione was hiding underneath them. Placing them on his dresser, he caught a whiff of her scent still on her shirt, making something inside him stir. He shook his head free of thoughts and went to the bathroom to take a long, cold shower.

For the next two days, the two Heads studiously ignored each other. Hermione memorized Malfoy's Quidditch schedule and made sure to come back late from the library every night. Any chance encounters were regarded with complete silence from both parties.

Hermione was picking at her food during breakfast when Dean suddenly approached her. "Hey, Hermione!" he grinned at her.

She smiled. "Hi, Dean. What's up?"

"I was just wondering," he began, looking at her nervously, "if you'd want to go to the next Hogsmeade trip with me?"

Hermione blinked, surprised. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "I would love to, Dean!"

"Great," he smiled at her widely. "I'll see you, then!" he left to join with Seamus and Neville at the other end of the table.

Hermione smiled to herself. Maybe Dean was the just the thing she needed to distract herself from a certain blond haired Slytherin.

As though conjuring him with her mind, she looked up to find Malfoy's eyes practically boring holes into her.

She looked away, flushing, glad to have the distraction of Ron spilling pumpkin juice all over himself.

That night was patrol duties. Hermione had completely forgotten that she and Malfoy had Friday patrolling together, and dread filled her as she exited her room. He was waiting for her on the couch in the common room, watching her silently as she made her way towards him.

"Well," she said awkwardly. "Shall we go?"

He nodded briskly and stood up, walking with her to the portrait hole. She hesitated, but he gestured for her to go first.

They walked silently side by side; Hermione made sure to leave at least two feet of space between them. She saw Malfoy roll his eyes out of the corner of her eye.

"Honestly, Granger," he scoffed. "It's not like I have a disease. And besides, if I did, you would have caught it by now, don't you think?" he raised his eyebrow suggestively.

Hermione flushed, stepping a bit closer to him so that the sleeves of their robes brushed against each other.

"You've been avoiding me." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

Hermione's cheeks reddened even more, if possible. "What? No!" she squeaked. "I just – I've been really busy. At the library."

"Really," Malfoy said skeptically. "That's why whenever we pass each other in the hallways you scurry into some random corridor and wait until I leave?"

"I – That-" Hermione stammered. "That was only once," she blushed again, looking at her feet.

She could practically hear his smirk. "Really, Granger. Get over yourself. After all, you have Dean now, don't you?"

"What?" she asked, surprised. "No- well, that is, we're going to Hogsmeade together. That's it," she admitted.

"But he likes you."

"Uh," Hermione wondered what this was about. "I don't know. I mean, we're good friends. Not great, but close."

"Close," Malfoy repeated. "So has he fingered you too?"

Hermione blanched, coming to a halt. "Excuse me?" she whispered.

Malfoy stopped as well, turning to face her. She became acutely aware of how close he was – only a breath away.

"I was just wondering how close we are. Tell me, Granger, am I the only one who's touched you like that?" he asked softly.

Hermione felt her face heat up at the memory.

"Yes," she whispered.

She saw something flicker across his eyes –satisfaction? "Well, not for long, I guess." he said dismissively, and turned to continue walking.

Hermione grabbed his arm and spun him around, suddenly furious. "What is that supposed to mean?" she snapped.

Malfoy shrugged. "He's got quite the reputation. That's all."

Hermione barked out a laugh. "You know, I can think of someone else with quite the reputation and I don't see you warning me about him. At least Dean doesn't go around calling himself the 'Gryffindor Sex God' and shagging every girl who glances twice at him!"

Malfoy stiffened. "I have never called myself that," he replied. "But I'm flattered, Granger." he smirked at her.

Hermione glared at him. "Isn't it ironic how you're warning me about Dean when I know more about him than you do?"

"Isn't it ironic," he spat, "that you say you're close to Dean when two days ago you were one step from shagging me?"

Hermione took a step back. "You don't know anything about closeness, Malfoy. Just because you shag someone doesn't mean you're close. Especially not in your case. I bet you don't even know the names of some of the girls you've been with."

"I know your name," he snapped, stepping towards her. "Hermione Mudblood Granger, know-it-all and top of the class since first year."

Hermione glared at him. "Yeah, well you weren't complaining when my Mudblood self was giving you a nice hard wank, were you? And may I remind you that you kissed me. You started it. And we didn't even shag, so don't you dare add me as another notch on your bedpost."

"Please, Granger. If I made even the slightest move you probably would've pounced." Malfoy scoffed.

"Not likely," she spat. "Besides, judging by the amount of your come on my stomach, there wasn't any energy left in you to shag anything." she smirked a very Malfoy-ish smirk.

"It's not like you would know the proper amount, anyways. You're about as experienced as a house-elf. I bet that was your first kiss," he retorted.

"It was not!" Hermione replied hotly, shoving him away from her.

Malfoy let out a growl and then pinned her against the wall, attacking her lips with a ferocity she'd never known. Her body reacted enthusiastically, her arms tangling themselves in his hair even as she told herself to get a grip. He bit on her lip and traced her teeth with his tongue.

"Don't… Stop…" Hermione moaned, not sure if she was egging him on or trying to push him away.

"What was that?" Malfoy asked softly as he bit on the skin behind her ear.

Hermione melted into his arms, arching her back. "Don't stop," she breathed.

He smirked, his face inches from hers. "I told you, Granger. You can't resist me. Do yourself a favor and admit it already." He pulled away from her and continued walking down the corridor.

"FUCK YOU, Malfoy!" Hermione fumed at his retreating back. She heard him chuckle as he rounded the corner.