I'm happy that you all are taking such a liking to this story, and I appreciate every review. I'm very excited to take you on this sinister and erotic journey. I really like this chapter, and I have a feeling that you will too.

The air began to grow colder, leaves and grass crisp with the faint kisses of the approaching season. When Hermione's time wasn't occupied with class and Prefect duties, she would often find herself seated in the Quidditch stands with a book. The sport wasn't growing on her in the slightest, but she had to admit that she was finally seeing the appeal of watching –well, Ron wasn't her boyfriend, not even close– but she viewed him through the same eyes that a girlfriend would. All the same, she was a bit more understanding as of late as to why girls often went to cheer their boyfriends on at events like these.

Of course, her own impulsive decision to help Ron definitely contributed to his newly appreciated status on the team. She enjoyed watching them practice and was even more proud to see Ron putting so much effort into it. Quidditch wasn't her thing, but it was very important to him, and it was interesting to see him so immersed in his element. It was almost as if he were a different person altogether. Unfortunately, Hermione was not the only one to notice this.

Lavender Brown had shown up to the Quidditch practices often, ever since that first tryout. Malfoy's advice still stewed within her, festering and bubbling like a rapidly spreading disease. Hermione didn't like to consider herself the jealous type, but the truth was that she was insecure. Sure, she was an intelligent witch, had even been unofficially granted the title of 'Brightest Witch of Her Age', but she was slowly –and regrettably– realizing that when it came to the opposite sex, especially those like Ron, that simply wasn't enough. Lavender was pretty and had eye-catching golden hair and a laugh that could captivate even the most focused of boys. For the first time in a long time, Hermione was feeling horribly inadequate.

It was what had forced her to give Malfoy's advice a go, albeit reluctantly, and it had worked. Ron did seem to throw a small fit whenever she so much as mentioned a kind gesture Malfoy had done or how they'd studied the night before. Yes, it did seem to be getting to him, and he even started accompanying her to her dorm, showing up for surprise visits sometimes. However, where there was Ron, Harry was there also.

They both threw fits, they both lectured her about the possible dangers of getting too close to Malfoy, and they both would make themselves present at her dorm. With both of them acting like blundering, overprotective idiots, it was hard to tell where Ron's feelings on the matter came from. Was he jealous, or was he simply acting as a concerned friend, already moving on with the help of Lavender's attention?

Said girl was seated near them again, trying –and succeeding– to capture Ron's attention for the time being. Hermione looked down at her dinner, all traces of hunger suddenly gone. She shoved her plate away with a tad more force than necessary, and stood.

"Everything alright, Hermione?" Ginny asked, eyes more perceptive than she let on as she gazed at her friend with a hint of sympathy.

Hermione didn't spare Ron nor his companion a glance as she began to leave.

"Fine. Just tired," she lied with a sigh.

Harry was eating, and Ron was…occupied, so she said her goodbyes to Ginny and left.

On the way back to her dorm, Hermione wondered if perhaps Malfoy had been right. Maybe Ron was returning Lavender's attention because she was actually showing him some that consisted of more than just 'googly eyes and awkward brushes of skin'. Lavender was showing, in no uncertain terms, that she was very much interested in him. That was more than Hermione had ever done.

The dorm was empty when she entered, and Hermione was actually put out by that. When she wasn't doing school related things or watching her friends play Quidditch, she would sometimes find herself studying with Malfoy. He was smart –only second to her in marks– and took his schooling seriously. He didn't get distracted like Harry would sometimes, nor would he ever randomly announce how bored he was like Ron. Oddly enough, doing revision with Malfoy had become something akin to downtime for her. It was relaxing and often got her mind off of Ron and her lack of courage regarding her feelings for him.

She had just brought a book out of her room to study in the common area with when Malfoy's door opened. Hermione hadn't realized she'd started to smile until it rapidly faded upon catching the eye of someone who was not Malfoy. She awkwardly cleared her throat at the sight of Daphne Greengrass, the other girl's blue eyes raking over her with indifference.

"Granger," she evenly greeted, adjusting her robes as she walked past Hermione and through the portrait.

Hermione stared after her, something…weird moving beneath her chest. Greengrass was pretty…and bold, and Ron liked girls like her, like Lavender.

"Apologies, Granger. You were out, but I kept all festivities within the confines of my bedroom. Scout's honor," he joked.

Hermione sighed, glancing at him before sitting on the couch, pulling her legs beneath her frame.

"It's quite alright."

"What? You're not going to preach to me about entertaining guests here?"

"No," was her only quiet reply.

There was a few beats of awkward silence where Malfoy simply stared at her, and Hermione pretended to not notice by trying to read.

"What's got your wand in a knot?"

Hermione fingered the pages of her book, chewing on her bottom lip as the question seemed to bubble in her throat.

"Why do you like her?"

"Come again?" Malfoy questioned after a few seconds.

She looked up and watched as he sat down on the edge of the table, silk pajama shirt grazing his shoulder, the undone buttons giving Hermione a peek of his collarbone and chest.

"Greengrass…why do you like her? I mean…her marks are average, and she's not particularly clever. I know for a fact that she's not a very nice person, even dubbed as the 'Ice Queen' by some. However, she is pretty…so is that it?"

Malfoy studied her, intensely so, and Hermione was tempted to look away. He suddenly stood before making his way over to her, settling himself beside her on the couch.

"That's awfully…judgmental of you," he commented.

Hermione dropped her head into her hands.

"Oh, I didn't mean for it to come off that way, I assure you."

Malfoy chuckled.

"Its fine, Granger. I know what you meant… I do have to ask, is this about Daphne or that Brown girl?"

She looked up at him, startled.

"Why do you ask that?"

"I've seen them around," he said with a shrug.

Hermione turned away, frowning at the news that Ron and Lavender hung out a lot more than she originally thought.

"She bats her eyelashes at him," Hermione whispered after a while.

Malfoy didn't respond, only scooting closer, probably to hear her better, she assumed.

"She bats her eyelashes at him and giggles –overly so– at his jokes. She follows him around and cheers for him at practice and touches him…in any way she can. She brushes his arm, wipes dirt from his face, and even lays her hand on his leg sometimes in the hall. She looks at him like he hung the moon, hanging onto his every word and he…he just eats it up," she continued in wonder.

"Did I not tell you? What man would resist a girl throwing herself at him?"

"…but why?" Hermione asked.

"Did you resist Krum?"

"That was different," she scoffed. "Viktor was interested in me for me. Sure, he was no genius and basically just watched me study, but he was happy to spend time with just me in whatever way. He could have had any witch –any pureblood one at that– but he was interested in me. He even wanted to remain in touch after the whole ordeal. Viktor was genuine. Lavender didn't even know Ron existed before this year, and you'd think Ron would remember that."

"He doesn't care," Malfoy laughed. "A pretty girl wants him, and since you've yet to say a damn thing to him, Granger, what choice does he have?"

Hermione stood with a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I wouldn't even know how to have that particular conversation with Ron. Do I just go up to him and tell him that I like him?"

"…and then the two of you would run off into the sunset together, get married, and pop out a couple of insufferable know-it-alls with crazy red hair?"

She threw him a scathing look to which he replied with a smirk.

"Don't be absurd. No one is talking about marriage here," she murmured.

"I imagine that's what would be on his mum's mind, no?"

Hermione paused, turning to fully face him, now. Mrs. Weasley would be thinking along those lines, whereas Hermione wasn't, and she doubted that Ron would disagree with her sentiments on the matter.

"When it comes to relationships –serious relationships– there is only two options, Granger," Malfoy articulated.

Her eyes widened as she registered this, realizing that he was right. If she really decided to bite the bullet, and she and Ron finally started dating, they would either eventually get married…or break up. If they broke up, there was no telling how Mrs. Weasley would take that. Hermione recalled how coldly the older witch had acted towards Hermione when she believed Rita Skeeter's hogwash so easily. The other option, marriage, was…

Hermione just couldn't see herself marrying Ron, at least, not at the moment. Both of them still had so much growing up to do. However, she wanted to be with Ron. Was that selfish? But that was how most relationships worked, especially at her age. Even she and Viktor knew that they would not last, some unspoken thing between them that they both had silently agreed to. Hermione was positive that Ron would be on the same page as her.

"I assure you, Ron isn't thinking about marriage, either," she countered.

"Of course. Naturally, the two of you will break up…amicably, I hope."

"Amicably," she quietly repeated, rolling the word around in her mouth.

Malfoy stood, a faint smile on his face as he walked towards her.

"Yes, amicably. It means, 'in a friendly or peaceable manner'," he informed.

"I know what it means," Hermione snapped, uncertainty beginning to grow in her chest.

Malfoy smirked.

"I meant no offense, Granger. The two of you are friends, so surely, that is something you've thought about."

Surprisingly, no. It was not something that Hermione had thought about. What if it ended horribly wrong, to the point where Harry was forced to choose sides? To the point where Ron's family was forced to choose their own blood over her? She had never considered that before, and was now being thrown for a loop. Even after Malfoy had retreated back to his room, arm brushing against her own as he did so, she still stood there suddenly doubting everything.

"Ron, do you mind if I have a word with you?"

They both looked up at her, Lavender's eyes showing displeasure at being interrupted. Ron quickly stood, leading Hermione only a few steps away.

"Can we go somewhere a bit more private?" Hermione suggested, uncomfortable with how close in proximity they were to Lavender.

"Uh…" Ron looked over his shoulder, rubbing the back of his head. "Is it terribly important?"

Hermione repressed the urge to sigh, glancing from his anxious eyes then to Lavender, and back again. She threw him a strained smile.

"No. I suppose that it can wait," she relented.

A blinding smile broke out over Ron's face, hands briefly settling on her shoulders as he thanked her. She watched as he sat back down next to Lavender, a grin on her lips as they continued their conversation. Hermione was immediately pulled from her oncoming somber thoughts by a hand on her shoulder.

"Penny for your thoughts? Though, I can imagine what those thoughts consist of," Ginny said, pulling Hermione away.

Hermione took the other girl's hand as they walked towards a tree, the spot the perfect place for a nice view of the grounds. Hermione sighed.

"How long have you known?"

"A while," Ginny shrugged. "Harry doesn't know, but he suspects."

"So tell me… How pathetic am I?"

Ginny yanked her down next to her, clutching onto the older witch.

"Oh, Hermione. You are not pathetic. Anyone with half a brain can see –could see– how you feel about Ron, how you've always felt about him," she reassured.

Hermione shook her head.

"…but that's not enough. I mean, he's interested in Lavender, now because she made her feelings known. We're not children, anymore, and I could have easily said something," Hermione said.

"That goes both ways, Hermione," Ginny harshly replied. "Ron likes you too, and he could have also just as easily opened his mouth. I suppose he must like his women the way he likes his homework; with no effort put in whatsoever."

"Merlin, Ginny, that's harsh…even for you," she commented.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just feel like he's being such an idiot. He likes you, so why is he letting some temporary trollop get in the way of that?"

Hermione's eyes landed on a figure walking across the grounds, his dark robes making his fair hair stand out all the more. He was conversing with Theodore Nott, the dark-haired Slytherin uttering something amusing, the grin on Malfoy's face visible from even where she was sitting. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she'd be taking relationship advice from Malfoy, advice that actually made sense.

"No, Ginny. For all Ron knows, he could be imagining my glances and whatnot. I'd never said a word to him, and now he's moving on to someone who has made their intentions clear," Hermione whispered.

"That's a load of bollocks, and you know it. If you went and snogged some lucky fellow, right now, Ron would have a cow. He isn't moving on. I'll tell you what he's doing. He thinks that he can have Lavender, now, but we all know…"

Ginny's words faded into the background when Malfoy turned and caught her eye. A smirk danced along his lips just before he turned back to give Nott his attention. He said something to the other boy, just before they parted ways. With a start, Hermione realized that Malfoy was making his way towards her. Ginny noticed this as well.

"I know that the two of you called a supposed truce, but this is still weird for me," Ginny quietly commented.

Hermione glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, a small smile on her face as Malfoy got closer.

"He's really changed, Ginny, and he's not so bad," she whispered, causing Ginny to give her an almost incredulous look.

"Weasley," Malfoy acknowledged to which the other girl simply returned with a nod. "I was hoping to borrow your Potions book for the night, Granger. Due to Theo's own incompetence –he sneered the word–, I was forced to let him borrow mine."

"Sure. I don't have it on me, though," she said, already standing.

Hermione turned to look down at her friend.

"Ginny?"

Ginny seemed to contemplate Hermione's unspoken question before narrowing her eyes at Malfoy and making her decision.

"Sure," she said, standing and following the two of them.

Hermione talked with Malfoy about their last DADA lesson, even drawing Ginny into the conversation every once in a while. The redhead made herself comfortable on the couch as soon as they entered their dorm. Hermione suspected that Ginny decided to tag along because she didn't trust Malfoy, to which Hermione could not blame her. She didn't miss the look Ginny had given her earlier. After all, Hermione was the one living with him and interacting with him on a regular basis. Only she would truly be able to see how remorseful he was for his past behavior and how genuine his apology was.

Malfoy leaned against the door, arms crossed over his chest, and one leg crossed over the other.

"Today, Granger," he sang after a few moments of her searching to no avail.

She glared at him over her shoulder.

"Do you want to borrow it, or not?"

He held his hands up in surrender, and she turned back around.

"I could have sworn that I left it on my desk," she mused aloud.

She didn't hear Malfoy's footsteps as he approached, sharply inhaling when she felt his robes brush against her back. She straightened, inhaling the scent of jasmine as he reached over her shoulder. She watched as his long fingers reached underneath her Arithmancy text, sliding her Potions book out from underneath it. She turned her head, face only inches away from his own as he turned to throw a mocking smirk her way, eyes sizing her up.

"You're losing your touch, Granger," he whispered, and then he was gone.

Hermione rolled over with a huff, hoping that sleeping on her side might prove to be more comfortable. She'd been up half the night, Ronald on the brain. She didn't want to think of him, both Ginny and Malfoy's words on a constant loop in her mind, but it was easier said than done. She surmised that she'd gotten a total of three hours of sleep so far, if that.

Her legs were tangled in her sheets, the comforter long finding its place on the floor, and the thin fabric was clinging to her skin with sweat. Her neck and chest felt warm too, and she could even feel some strands of her hair sticking to her forehead. Hermione could always use her wand to dry off, but she'd feel much cleaner with another shower. Besides, the hot water and steam always managed to relax her. With her mind made up, she flung the covers off of her.

The common area was dark, but Hermione was familiar with the placement of the furniture at this point, so she didn't bother to light her path. So focused on the idea of a hot shower and some long sought after sleep, Hermione didn't take note of the noises coming from the bathroom until it was too late.

She stood in the doorway, eyes wide and legs frozen as she took in the scene before her, but neither parties noticed her presence.

A dark haired witch with a slight tan was in the shower stall and on her knees before Hermione's dorm mate. The girl's hands were resting on his thighs, unbothered by the water that was raining down on her. She was moaning, the noises escaping the back of her throat suggesting to Hermione that this was for her pleasure just as much as it was for Malfoy's. Said wizard's hands were entangled in her hair, seeming to guide her as her head moved before him.

Hermione's eyes followed the path of his arms, taking in the flawless expanse of his chest, the water traveling down every curve and ridge before disappearing to what the girl's head blocked from view. She could see the toned expanse of his stomach clenching every now and again, in sync with the tightening of his grip on her hair. Her gaze traveled upwards, taking in the way his Adam's apple bobbed, struggling to swallow as the witch continued her movements.

Hermione knew that she should have long left, so far past the line of invasion of privacy that the line was now a dot to her. If Malfoy saw her, he would surely curse her, retracting his apologies and truce in a heartbeat, but… Malfoy didn't see her, didn't even notice her.

Malfoy's eyes were closed, screwed shut, looking almost as if he were in pain, but Hermione knew better. His teeth were clenched, jaw ticking as he let out a hissing sound here and there, as if he were trying to keep as quiet as possible. His almost ashen blond hair was plastered to his forehead, soaked with water, droplets skipping down his face. Hermione felt something unfamiliar jolt through her when his teeth finally separated, and he let out a deep moan, one that had Hermione's mind reeling.

She'd noticed that Malfoy was attractive, finally seeing what so many other girls had long noticed, but she'd never given it much thought after the initial realization. However, in that moment, Hermione thought that simply calling him attractive wouldn't do him justice. Malfoy was a vision with his lips parted, guttural groans and almost feminine whines climbing out of his throat at a steady crescendo. He looked so vulnerable, so sensual, so…enthralling.

"Fuck," he breathed, lips trembling as he lifted his hips away from the wall just the slightest.

The girl before him had him in the palm of her hand, and Malfoy didn't seem to care, at all. Without warning, his eyes flew open and landed on Hermione, face conveying that he wasn't surprised in the slightest to see her standing there. She stumbled back, hand still clutching the doorjamb as he kept his gaze locked on her.

"You take me so well," he whispered, and heat flared to Hermione's face.

His eyes fluttered towards the ceiling just as a significantly louder and longer moan escaped him. Hermione closed the door, facing the common area with wide eyes. She swallowed before practically sprinting to her room, chest heaving as she threw herself back into bed. She was hot, all over and in places she'd never been before, and she knew that it had nothing to do with the temperature.

~ SD ~