A/N: Please don't be upset with me lmao. Hope you like it!

The paint on the bathroom walls had faded to a dull grey in the decades since The Dark Wing had opened, chipped and cracked and covered in a mix of writing and band posters. Hermione sucked in without making a sound, holding her breath and counting the posters on the wall in front of her as Nott lifted her onto the edge of the sink and leaned into the gap between her legs. Slowly he dragged his lips and his teeth and the tip of his tongue down her neck, every inch of his body responding to her in ways she didn't know she'd missed until he took her hand in his and placed it just a few inches below his abdomen.

She knew what he wanted, and he knew by the manner in which she had found him at The Dark Wing, grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him into the bathroom, that she wanted it, too.

Quietly releasing her breath in the seconds after, Hermione blinked up at Nott as he pulled away from her neck and ran his fingers through the curls in her hair, biting down on his bottom lip and murmuring words to her about how badly he wanted her as she slowly undid his jeans.

"Here's to being friends …" he smirked, taking her by the neck and guiding her mouth to his in a wet, sweltering kiss that only deepened as she slowly slid a hand underneath the loosened fabric of his jeans and wrapped her fingers around the smooth, hard cock that he'd been waiting days to give her.

He made a low, ardent sound of approval and unconsciously pushed his hips forward, deeper into her touch whilst slowly dragging his hands under her robes and up her thighs.

Within moments he hooked a finger along the side of her knickers and slowly tugged them down a couple of inches, the wetness between her legs clinging softly to the fabric before finally, every ounce of sense that she'd shoved to the back of her mind, came crashing down on her all at once.

"W-wait …" Hermione panted, grabbing Nott by the shoulders the second he began dragging his lips down her body, unbuttoning her top and exposing the modest pool of cleavage along her bra as he went.

He glanced to her, confused as to why she'd stopped him. "What's wrong?"

"I-I don't know."

"Is it the noise outside? Should we go somewhere else?"

Sparing a moment of thought, the brunette quickly shook her head no, hopping off of the sink in the seconds after. "I-I can't do this," she blurted, buttoning her top and tugging her knickers back on. "I have to get out here."

Nott tensed up, his breaths still rapid and his jeans still undone as he looked to her in the dimness of the bathroom, the music and chatter outside filling in the long gap of silence between them. "I won't tell anyone if that's what you're worried about," he uttered to her after, connecting the dots in his mind.

Swallowing the anxious lump in her throat, Hermione hurriedly righted her clothing. "It's not … it's not that," she explained to him in the only way she could, glancing back at the wizard for just one brief moment as she cracked the door open an inch. "Sorry for dragging you into this."

One Week Later

Draco poked at his breakfast in the Dining Hall, his thoughts drifting to a distant place as Blaise, Tracey and Pansy rambled on about some assignment that was due that morning.

"You're not seriously going to turn this in, are you?" Blaise inquired, taking one look at the essay that Pansy had banged out just an hour before bed the previous night.

She stretched her lips into a yawn, shrugging in a show of complete and utter indifference. "Does it really matter? I'm only at The Academy because my parents said they'd cut me off if I didn't at least try."

Sighing, Blaise handed the parchment back to her. "If that's what you call trying … then I've got no words for you."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic. It's just one assignment."

"Can I have a look?" Tracey politely asked, grabbing hold of the essay and gulping loudly as she read the first couple of lines. "Er … I think I'm with my boyfriend on this one. Sorry, Pansy."

"Boyfriend?" Pansy snorted, lifting an eyebrow at she glanced between her friends. "Well, that's … something. I thought you two were only fucking about."

"Oh, there's plenty of that," Blaise swiftly added.

Tracey rolled her eyes, lightheartedly. "We're testing the waters for now."

"I'm sure you are," Pansy smirked, glancing to Draco now. "Did you hear that? Blaise Zabini has officially clawed his way into Tracey's knickers. Maybe if you play your cards right, it'll be you and Astoria next."

Blaise and Tracey glanced to each other, swallowing hard and simply watching as Draco snapped out of his thoughts.

"What did you just say?" he asked Pansy, the tension at the table growing impenetrably thick.

Falling silent, Pansy glanced to the new couple for some indication as to what exactly she'd said or done that was so wrong. "Erm … I said maybe if you play your cards right, it'll be you and … and …"

"Just forget it, mate …" Blaise interjected, looking to Draco. "She didn't mean anything by it."

Swallowing hard, Draco nodded to himself, wiping his lips and then pushing away from the table as he rose to his feet in the moments after. "You lot carry on. I've lost my appetite."

Pansy impatiently frowned. "At what point are you going to get over that chirpy little bitch?"

"Shit …" Blaise muttered under his breath. "Now you've gone and done it."

Stopping in his tracks, Draco fixed a look over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes into a glare as he glanced back at Pansy. "You'd do well to mind your tongue, Parkinson."

"What are you going to do about it if I don't?" she snorted. "Last I checked, little Greengrass had a tongue of her own that she just loved using on your good friend, Theo. Or was it Granger who used her tongue on him? I can't remember …"

"Pansy, will you shut the fuck up for once?" Blaise demanded, without a trace of his usual joking demeanour.

Tracey scrunched her lips into a frown, echoing her boyfriend's words as she glanced to Pansy.

Without one look at the other two, Draco fell silent, the knot in his chest slowly tightening as he tried not to show it in his face. "I take it this is what happens when you've got no one to suck off for a week?"

To that Pansy shot up, her bottom lip twitching with anger. "Funny how wizards presume to slut-shame you once you've stopped fucking them at their convenience."

"Spare me," Draco uttered, folding his arms as he stared down at the witch. "Not one person at this table believes for even a second that you wouldn't still be throwing yourself at me had I not turned you down at Theo's party."

Pansy tensed. "You've got a lot of nerve talking to me like that."

"Oh, you know I do," he added. "Next time you want to start with me, give it some thought … if your brain can manage, of course …"

Mouth falling open, she stood there for a moment in a state of shock before finally gulping down the lump in her throat and cutting around the table. "That's it!" she shouted, grabbing Draco by the arm and dragging him out of the Dining Hall as Blaise and Tracey looked on, completely and utterly confused.

There was no explaining it.

In a matter of moments Pansy had dragged Draco into one of the supply closets on the first floor of the castle, and proceeded to lift the skirt of her uniform as he turned her around and leaned her against the wall, tugging her knickers to the side and pushing in for the first time in over a week. She moaned loudly, turning her head and seeking out his lips as he fucked her in the dark of the closet, the scurrying footsteps outside filling in the silence between each thrust.

He grabbed her by the wrists and turned her around soon after, pinning her flush against the wall as she choked out his name and took him in deeper, the warmth of his mouth quickly finding hers in a rough, uncontrolled kiss.

At some point his hand found her neck and he gently squeezed, bringing her closer to the edge. It wasn't long after that before she tensed up and came, gasping and squeezing tightly around him, each wave punctuated by the depth and weight of his thrusts as he fucked her through it, chasing his own release.

Seconds later, he found it, immediately pulling out and yanking her top open to come on her bare breasts the way he knew she liked.

With one hand flat against the wall and the other stroking out the last few drops, he blinked down at the witch, still trying to catch his breath. "Happy?"

"Only a little," she panted, a small smile on her lips as she dipped a finger into his come and then popped it into her mouth. "Find me later and we'll have another go."

He said nothing in response to that, simply righting his uniform and cleaning up with a few quick waves of wandless magic as she did the same.

Once they were done, they ducked out of the supply closet and fucked off in different directions as if they hadn't just engaged in another round of rough, angry sex, where any number of people could have heard or opened the door and caught them.

In part Draco was annoyed with himself for letting it happen, but if there was one thing he knew without a doubt in his mind, it was that he and Pansy always had good sex. She had such a mouth on her most of the time, he quite enjoyed silencing her in whatever position and whatever stretch of the castle they could find.

He figured she'd picked a fight with him specifically to have sex afterward, the thought of which wasn't all that bad of an idea to him in that moment.

It was only as he walked away from the supply closet, straightening his necktie as discreetly and as calmly as he could, that he noticed the brunette in the group of Healing students at the end of the corridor. They were standing together, chatting about their schoolwork, not one person in the group paying him an ounce of attention apart from her.

She glanced to him briefly, the look in her eyes telling him that she knew he'd just had sex with Pansy Parkinson in a supply closet in the early hours of the morning.

Perhaps she'd seen Pansy drag him out of the Dining Hall, down the corridor and into the supply closet. He wasn't sure, and he'd no desire to find out.

Quickly breaking eye contact, Draco continued on his way.

Later That Day

It was her first day off she had landed the job, but she had decided to pop in the shop anyway to look for her favourite scarf. She'd spent a week trying to find it, having searched every corner of her room at The Leaky Cauldron and her favourite spots around Diagon Alley where she usually had lunch and dinner. To no avail, she figured that she had just left it at work, in some corner of the shop where she hadn't yet looked.

On the one hand it was only a scarf, but on the other hand it was given to her by someone special … someone whose warm hugs and kind words she missed everyday.

"Astoria! Good to see you!" George greeted her by the door, smiling and nodding in hello to the young witch. "It's your day off, isn't it?"

She hesitated a moment, uncertain as to how she should explain without coming across like as a crazy person. "Er … yes, it is. I just … I think I forgot something of mine in the back room …"

"Oh, what did you forget? Maybe I've seen it."

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to come out with it. The sooner she found it, the sooner she could go home and avoid running into someone. "A dark blue scarf … hand-knitted … about as long as … as …"

Suddenly the younger Weasley brother came strolling out of his office, flipping through the mail they'd received that day as if he were expecting a letter for him to have come in or something in particular. Only as he reached the front of the shop did he glance up, first looking to George and then to Astoria.

His throat clenched the second he saw her.

For an entire week now they had avoided each other, only speaking when they absolutely had to. George had started coming into the shop a lot more, so for the most part Astoria talked to him, directed her work-related questions at him and did everything in her power to avoid the younger of the two.

In part she was embarrassed that he'd turned her down the other night, but she was also aware of the fact that he had his reasons, and she wanted no part in adding to whatever was going between him and his girlfriend.

Though she suspected it was too late for that.

She had overheard him earlier in the week, asking George whether any mail from The Academy had come in.

Maybe he told her that we kissed.

Maybe he's waiting for her write back and to decide if she wants to stay with him.

Maybe I'm just imagining things and we didn't actually kiss that night.

The memory was too real for her to have imagined it. For every night since, she had crawled into bed and closed her eyes and thought of the way his lips had felt against hers. The way he looked at her, the way he held her, the way he pressed her body against the outside of the pub, kissed the air out of her lungs and took her bottom lip between his teeth as if he had imagined it for just as long as she had.

Blinking the memories away, Astoria refocused.

"Have you seen a dark blue scarf anywhere?" George asked Ron, breaking his younger brother's train of thought.

Quickly straightening, Ron nodded. "Er … yeah, I think I saw it in the back."

"You did?" Astoria asked, taken aback. "I've checked there countless times."

He swallowed hard. "Well, I guess you didn't check properly enough."

Staring between them, George didn't say a word.

Astoria tensed up a bit, quietly going into the back of the shop as Ron nodded for her to follow. The chatter and foot traffic in the front grew distant, muted by the gentle click of the door as she pressed it closed behind her. With one look around the shelves and the boxes lined up at the back, there wasn't a trace of her scarf anywhere.

"I thought you said it was —"

"It's at my flat," Ron interjected, his face draining of colour as he bounced a look at her. "You … you shoved it at me at the Muggle pub the other night, after I spilled my drink."

For a moment she had no idea what he was talking about. Only as she spared a moment to think back, did she realize he was right. She was so drunk that night, the memory had slipped her mind until that very moment.

"Shit …" she muttered, looking to him after. "Do you think you could get it back to me today?"

"I'm working today. I can get it back to you tomorrow at the earliest."

"No, no. I need it now."

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "It's just a scarf. I'll bring it to you tomorrow."

"It's not just a scarf! It's important to me!" she shouted, sucking in a deep breath after, the rapid beats of her heart slowing down little by little. "I just … I need it back now. It was given to me by someone … by someone really special and I-I've been looking everywhere for it. I-I thought I lost it."

There was a trace of uncertainty in Ron's eyes, a questioning look that slowly but surely faded as he sighed, loudly. "Okay. Follow me."

"Follow you where?"

"Nowhere. Just … just hurry up before George comes looking for us," he said to her, popping an anxious look over her shoulder, at the door.

This was the most they'd talked all week, the realization of which had quickly hit Astoria as she followed Ron into the alley out back. There was a second where she looked to him with question marks in her eyes before he held his hands out to her.

Side-along Apparition.

She hated Apparating places, but she figured if she didn't just go along with it, she wouldn't see her scarf until the following day. After an entire week without it, she was ready to do just about anything to get it back.

Hesitantly grabbing hold of Ron's hands, she closed her eyes and felt that familiar kick in her gut as the ground vanished from beneath her feet. Within seconds she stumbled forward, opening her eyes to find that her face was flat against his chest, and that he'd apparently Apparated with her to his flat.

"Sorry," she muttered, backing away from him and darting a quick look around to find that they were in the lounge of a much more spacious and uncluttered flat than she'd expected.

Eyebrows twitching up in surprise, she took note of the view and the minimalist furniture and the photographs that lined the fireplace. In them were his friends, family and of course … girlfriend. With one look at the photograph of them together by some sort of lake, she realized his girlfriend was a lot more beautiful than she remembered.

Simple, understated and kind looking.

They looked good together, like a proper couple.

Glancing away in the seconds after, Astoria ignored the rush of guilt in her chest, looking into the foyer as Ron extracted the dark blue, hand-knit scarf that her aunt had made for her from the coat hook.

"Here," he uttered, bringing the scarf to her afterwards. "Happy?"

She immediately grabbed hold of it, relief bursting through her chest. "Yes. Very much so."

There was a trace of a smile in his eyes before he swiftly blinked it away. "Right. I've got to get back to work."

"Of course," she nodded, clutching the scarf tightly to her chest before she came toward him and took hold of his hand as he extended it to her.

Without meaning to she wove her fingers through his and blinked up at him a moment, the mixed feelings in her eyes reflected in his.

In that second she decided that she'd resisted the urge to ask for long enough. "Are we just going to pretend like nothing happened?"

He tensed at the question. "Of course not."

"So, then why have you been avoiding me?"

"You've been avoiding me, too."

"I'm not the one in a relationship," she countered, gently. "I … I assumed you would come to me at some point so we could talk about it, but …"

"What is there to talk about?" he inquired, a little faster than he'd intended. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he went on to say the rest. "We just … we got a little carried away. It should never have happened."

"But it did."

"So, what do you want me to do, Astoria? Like you said, I'm in a relationship."

She couldn't help but ask. "Are you even happy with her?"

There was a spark of doubt in Ron's eyes before he backed away, peeling his hand out of hers. "I can't do this right now. I-I'm not having this conversation with you. For Merlin's sake, I'm your boss!"

Pressing her lips into a frown, Astoria raced up to the older wizard, cutting in front of him before he could walk away. "Listen," she blurted, slightly breathless by the time she caught up to him in the dimness of the corridor. "I-I know this is difficult for you. Believe me, I get it. I just … I like you, Ron … and I have a feeling you like me, too."

His Adam's apple shot up and down again, like the other night. "It's not that simple."

"It can be if you let it," she said to him, with every ounce of feeling she'd held in that week. "I-I can't stop thinking about you, Ron."

"You shouldn't."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because it's true," he uttered, their silhouettes slowly coming closer together as he looked to her in the dimness of the corridor. "Really, Astoria … I'm … I'm just a normal person."

"Normal?" she repeated, practically laughing at the idea. "You've managed to do more with your life at the age of twenty than most people could ever dream of. Not only are you a licensed Auror and co-owner of one of the most successful and thriving businesses in the magical world, you're also a fucking war hero. Have you any idea how not normal you really are, Ron Weasley?"

He exhaled, glancing off to the side as if he'd put that part of his life behind him. "Most of those things … I was just in the right place at the right time."

"Stop it," Astoria demanded, bringing a hand to his cheek and turning his head toward her again. "You're good … and kind … and you make me laugh so hard sometimes, I feel like my stomach is going to explode. To me that means something."

For a moment he simply looked to her after she'd said that, the rigidity in his eyes tapering away slowly. "For the record, I … I can't stop thinking about you either," he confessed.

Her heart filled up at the sound of that. "If I could, I would kiss the absolute daylights out of you right now."

"Oh, would you?" he asked, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips.

Without a word Astoria nodded, taking one more step closer to him, inches away as she brought a finger to his lips. "I would kiss you right here," she said to him quietly, slowly dragging the tip of her finger down his neck, right over his pulse as it quickened. "And here …" Leaning into her touch, the ends of his hair grazed her forehead as she dragged her fingertip lower down his body, past his abdomen just seconds before he ran his hands through her dark waves of hair and pulled her in slowly and tentatively.

Their lips didn't touch, they simply hovered a hairline apart. The slightest movement would have done it, but Astoria didn't dare.

She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent of fresh, mountain air, patiently waiting as he gave in little by little, slowly pressing his lips to hers and kissing her in the quiet of the corridor.

If not for the fact that he had to go back to work soon after, she was convinced that he'd have let her put her mouth in all the places that she'd said she wanted to.

Later That Night

Hermione turned the pages of her Potions book, the hiss and crackle of the fireplace filling in the silence as she ignored his looks from across the library.

The fact that he was there so late, made little sense.

To her knowledge he usually studied in his dormitory or in the courtyard. She'd only seen him at the library a couple of times in the past year and some months at The Academy. Granted it was a lot bigger than the library at Hogwarts. There was a chance that he visited the library as often as she did, but she doubted that very much.

With a deep frown, she scribbled some notes down on her parchment, trying to refocus.

For a few moments she'd managed to successfully draw her attention elsewhere, but it was only a matter of time before the one thing she'd avoided all week, scratched its way to the surface.

Ron had written to her.

The morning after she'd caught him sneaking up to the second floor of The Leaky Cauldron with another witch.

Of course he had no idea that she'd caught them with her own eyes, but going by the words he'd scribbled in the letter, he had every intention of telling her anyway.

She couldn't decide whether that was good or bad.

Hey.

I know you said you want a break and I'm sorry for the way I reacted the other night, but I'm just writing to you now to let you know there's something we've got to talk about.

It's really important.

Let me know when you're available.

I think it's best that we have this talk in person.

I'll meet you there to make easier.

Love,

Ron.

For the most part she felt stupid.

The worst possible feeling in the world for her.

Clearly he was going to come see her, tell her that he cheated on her, and then break up with her to be with this other witch. She'd already fucked things up with him and then with Nott, and she had neglected so many of Harry's letters, he'd eventually stopped writing to her thinking she was too busy at school.

In many ways she was, but she needed a friend.

She needed someone who she could talk to.

Someone who doesn't want to fuck me.

Bouncing a look across the library, to where a tall, pale blond-haired wizard sat on his own, with a mountain of books around him and a look on his face that suggested he hadn't slept properly in days, the brunette thought briefly of when she'd seen him that morning.

He'd not-so-discreetly ducked out of a supply closet seconds after Pansy Parkinson, his uniform askew and his hair messy as though it had been tugged at and fingered through in the heights of whatever they'd done in there.

Truthfully she'd never seen him in such a state, and she'd not really given thought to him as a … well, as a sexual person … not quite as often as she gave though to wizards like Nott and Zabini.

There was no denying the fact that Draco Malfoy was attractive, but he'd always been so above it all — as evidenced by what he'd said to her by the cliffs — it was hard for her to imagine him between the legs of a witch.

Unconsciously squeezing her thighs together at the thought, Hermione quickly snapped out of it.

Stop it.

Focus.

Focus, Hermione.

With a deep breath she set aside those strangely inappropriate thoughts, dipping her Quill into a pot of ink and continuing to write in the seconds after. Only as she reached the end of her roll of parchment, ink stains all along the side of her hand, did she glance up to find Malfoy at her table.

"Er … sorry to bother you," he began, rubbing the side of his neck. "I was just wondering if you had a Quill that I could maybe use for tonight? I accidentally snapped my last one a second ago."

For a moment she just stared at him, uncertain as to whether he was serious.

"I'll … take that as a no," Malfoy gathered, turning to leave before Hermione sighed, loudly.

Reaching into her book bag, she extracted one of her new Quills and slid it to him. "I'll need that back when you're done."

"Of course," he nodded, relief tugging at his eyes and lips. "Thanks, Granger."

She gave him a quick, firm smile, glancing down at her Potions assignment after, thinking he had already gone.

Halting mid-step, Malfoy glanced back at her table and then at his and then at hers again. "Er … I don't mean to bother you again, but … do you think I could maybe sit here with you? It's a lot warmer over here by the fireplace."

What the fuck has gotten into him tonight?

Without really glancing up, Hermione just shrugged. "If you want to," she mumbled, hoping to Merlin that her cheeks and neck didn't look as warm as they felt just then.

Maybe I'm a little too close to the fire.

In a matter of moments Malfoy had gathered his books and things and brought them over to her table, taking to the other side a safe and comfortable distance away.

Now and again Hermione flicked quick, discreet looks at him.

He seemed to be working really hard, the wheels in his mind turning as he turned the pages of his book and scribbled notes down on parchment.

For the briefest moment she got lost in the details of his face. The way he squinted hard when he was at his most focused, the way he bit down on his bottom lip, the way pushed his hair back, the way he breathed in through his nose and held it, and the way his lips hung on the edge of a smirk as he glanced to her from across the study table.

"Have I got something on my face, Granger?"

Nearly choking on her breath, Hermione quickly shook her head no, glancing away.

Merlin, take me now.

On the other side of the table, Malfoy simply smirked to himself and carried on writing.

It wasn't bad enough that he'd caught her breaking down in front of the school after she'd found out her boyfriend had cheated on her. No, of course not. He also had to catch her staring at every detail of his face like an absolute git.

Swallowing the lump of embarrassment in her throat, Hermione bounced yet another look at him, this time catching sight of something she hadn't noticed before.

There was a mark along his neck.

A reddish mark about the size of a Galleon.

"Actually …" Hermione began, waiting until he blinked those stormy grey eyes in her direction before she motioned to her own neck. "You do have something … just there."

There was a flicker of surprise along his face before he felt along his neck, quickly realizing. "Er …"

"Parkinson?" the brunette asked, smoothly.

Malfoy nodded, an embarrassed flush to his down his neck. "Was it that obvious?"

With a small shrug, Hermione dipped her Quill into some ink, calmly. "In my experience, supply closets are used for everything other than … well, other than storing supplies."

His lips twitched with laughter. "Fair enough."

"Figures everyone besides me in this school is having sex …"

"Besides you?" Malfoy repeated, lifting an eyebrow at the brunette. "I thought you and Theo …"

"What? Oh …" For whatever reason, Hermione had nearly forgotten. "No, no. We didn't … we almost … but we didn't."

He fell silent at the sound of that, the look in those stormy grey eyes of his growing increasingly difficult for her to read before he finally put voice to the thoughts that were running through his mind. "So, does that mean … you and Weasley?"

Chest tightening a little at the mention of Ron, she simply cleared her throat, giving herself a few seconds to form a response. "I, er … I'm not sure what's happening with Ron. We haven't had a chance to properly speak yet."

"Right. Sorry for asking so many questions. I know it's none of my business."

"That's okay," Hermione said to him, reassuringly. "Honestly it … it's a relief finally being able to talk about it."

Malfoy simply nodded at that, knowing exactly how she felt. "I, er … I heard from Professor So that Potter is coming to visit soon."

Eyes widening, the witch nearly dropped her Quill. "He is? Since when?"

"I think he's been in talks for a visit for a couple of weeks now. He's just going to drop by for a day or two and speak to those in Auror Training."

"Aren't you in Auror Training?"

Tensing up a bit, Malfoy nodded. "Er … yes, I am. That should be … fun."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm sure Harry will be nice."

"I suppose we'll see."

"I suppose we will," she nodded, the pair of them snorting with laughter in the seconds after.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Thoughts?