A/N: I've only had a few reviews but they inspire me, so here's another chapter, enjoy!
We're finally going to get some lovin' in this one! Prepare to fall in love with Draco... (or a little more in love with him if you're like me.)


Several nights later Draco awoke with a start and stared into the darkness of his room, wondering what had woken him. He was tense and alert waiting for some sound or movement. Suddenly he heard, muffled through the door to his library a small cry of distress. Granger? Then he heard her again, the volume increasing as she mumbled 'no' over and over again. What as she dreaming about? He had enough of his own nightmares to know she'd rather be woken up then trapped in whatever hell her mind was putting her through. Getting out of bed, he lit his wand and went through the door into the library. It was nearly pitch black in here as well, the fire having died to coals. As he walked to the couch he could just make out her shape under the blanket, curled into a tight ball and twitching. She cried 'no, please' in a voice that broke his heart. Draco lowered himself to the edge of the couch and ran his hand gently down her arm.

"Granger," he whispered, not wanting to frighten her any more than she already was. "Come on, you're okay. It's just a nightmare, wake up." As he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear he felt wetness from tears. He didn't know it was possible to cry in your sleep. He flicked his wand toward the fire and small flames grew, it would be easier waking if there was some light.

Hermione gasped awake at the touch of his hand to her face, she shot up into a sitting position, eyes wide and fearful.

"Hey, you're okay. It was just was just a dream," he said quickly, he could tell she was trying separate the dream from reality. Her eyes locked on his and her bottom lip trembled.

"Oh God!" She gasped, "Thank goodness it was only a dream!" she launched herself at Draco and buried her face in his neck, wrapping her arms around his chest. Taken by surprise he slowly wrapped one arm around her shoulders and gradually the other. He wasn't sure what to do with this emotional Granger. He wasn't good at the comfort thing, having never been comforted himself. But this seemed to be what she needed. He was uncomfortable though… sort of twisted at the waist to have both arms around her. Well, he saw a simple solution: she gasped as he lifted her easily and positioned her to sit across his lap and she settled into his chest. They sat for a few moments while she got her breathing under control. Eventually she pulled back to look sheepishly at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to attack you."

He laughed softly, "it's okay. Want to talk about the dream?" He really was curious… he didn't notice that his right hand was gently trailing his fingertips up and down her spine.

"Oh, um. Bellatrix." His stomach clenched. He hated that he was related to the woman who caused this girl's nightmares. Bellatrix was evil.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, again unsure what to do. They sat quietly for a few more minutes, his arms still around her. She pulled her head out from under his chin and looked up at him.

"I feel like a coward, but I think I'm afraid to be alone. Would you… would you sit with me until I fall back to sleep?" He thought he'd feel shocked by that, but then he remembered how he felt every time he woke up from one of his nightmares about the Dark Lord, or about any of the other hideous things he'd endured in the last year. Instead of answering, he just lowered them back to the cushion, shifting so that they lay on their sides facing each other. He took her hand that was lying between them. He hated feeling responsible for causing any more pain. It wasn't his fault exactly, but his family's. He was tired of watching his evil relations be…. Evil.

"Are you okay?" he whispered. He flicked his wand at the blanket and covered them both as she shivered.

"I think so. It's fading now." He didn't say anything, just held her hand, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of it- as though this small action of comfort could right all the wrongs that had been committed. "Thank you for waking me." She said quietly.

"You don't have to thank me. You'd have woken me up if you'd heard me having a nightmare. It'll happen sooner or later, so we won't keep score." He flashed a small smile at her. They lay quietly for a few moments, both very aware of her hand in his and his thumb moving in the circles.

"I'm afraid to close my eyes. I'm afraid that she's waiting there, in my mind, for me to fall asleep again." He winced. Bellatrix would love this. He didn't know what to say to Hermione. He didn't know a way to chase dreams away and it would take forever to brew a potion to give her for peaceful sleep. Instead of answering he shifted to put his forehead against hers. His life was hell right now, as was hers. Couldn't they give each other a little comfort even though they'd been- well he'd been, so terrible to each other in the past?

Hermione sighed at the tender gesture. He wondered what she thought of it. He wanted to kiss her again, badly. Here in the quiet and the dark. Here where they both needed something good, some support and care from another human being. He opened his eyes to find her watching him, somewhat warily. He pushed himself up onto his elbow and pulled back an inch or two to focus on her eyes better, they were wide and dark. He saw her gaze flicker down to his mouth. Yes.

He released her hand and moved it to tuck that strand of hair behind her ear again, then gently touched her cheek. She closed her eyes at the touch. He looked at her parted lips and slowly lowered his head to hers pausing at the last second, giving her a chance to pull away… he wasn't sure of her mood. She didn't. He pressed his lips to hers gently and briefly and pulled back. After a pause it was she who closed the distance this time and pressed her lips to his. His pulse quickened and he returned her kiss. It started gently, almost lovingly but soon they got carried away with rising passion and excitement. His hand left her face and moved down her side, her hand was fisted in his hair. Her lips parted and his tongue moved inside to rub against hers. His hand wrapped around to her lower back and pulled her fully up against him, they both moaned at the contact as he moved against her. Her hand left his hair and trailed down his naked back, he was glad he hadn't thought to put a shirt on before he came in. He was still in his boxers actually.

His mouth left hers and trailed kisses down her jaw to her ear and his hand crept up her back underneath her shirt wanting to feel her smooth skin. He felt her hand on his cheek as she pulled his mouth back to hers and he laughed into her parted lips.

"Good God, woman." He moaned after several minutes, or hours- he had no idea, sliding his hand down her back, hip and thigh until he was grasping the back of her knee. He pulled her knee up and wrapped her leg high around his waist. Their breath was harsh as he shifted to roll her to her back moving with her so that she was fully underneath him. She wrapped her other leg around his waist and strained against him, both of them gasping and moving against the other, mouths frantic. Before long he couldn't take any more; He wrenched his mouth away from hers and moved back to rest his head on her chest. He listened to her heart pound and felt its beat match his. He sat back onto his heels, still between her legs. He looked at her flushed cheeks and red lips, he hair mussed and her shirt pushed up above her waist. She looked edible.

"Hermione, we have to stop now or I'm not going to want to stop. Ever." He groaned and despite his words he gripped her hips and pulled her firmly up against his arousal. "God, I want you," he whispered. He watched her as she fought to catch her breath. She reached up and took his hand.

"Who told you to stop?" She asked so quietly he almost didn't hear her. Surely she didn't just say that?

"What do you mean?" He was sure he had misunderstood.

"I… I don't want to stop. I want to be with you." Her already flushed face turned even more crimson, but he saw no fear.

"Wh… why?" He stuttered. Shocked to his toes, he really wanted to believe that she meant it, but couldn't see how that could be true. Well, he'd have never thought they'd do something anywhere close to what they'd just spent the last half hour doing.

"Because I want you. Because this feels amazing. Because I could be killed at any moment. Because every decision I've made in the last year has been based on hate and fear. I want to do something that will make me, and hopefully you, happy. In all this darkness and misery, I want to have something happy to look back on if I survive this thing. Instead of doing something out of hate, I want to do something out of… well, not love but…" she trailed off, perhaps feeling embarrassed.

"Hermione, in the hell we're living in, I say anything this far from hate can be classified as love" he whispered. He meant it. He realized that he would do anything he could to give her that happy memory. He'd contributed to too many of her bad ones. He wanted to redeem himself.

She reached up to cup his face in her hands, pulling him gently down to her. "Make love with me then," she said quietly. How could he resist her? He let her pull him down and gently kissed her. He felt a tightness in his chest that he didn't recognize and he put every tender feeling he had into that kiss, granted it wasn't much, but he hoped she knew he was trying.

"Are you sure?" he asked against her mouth, even though he asked he was unwilling to move away from her. Please, Merlin, don't let her say no. When she didn't answer he gave in and moved back to study her face. She was looking at him intently; he could all but hear the wheels turning in her mind. Slowly, she moved to grasp the hem of her shirt that was bunched beneath her breasts and to his amazement she stared him in the eye as she slowly pulled the shirt up to her chin, only breaking eye contact to take it over her head. His eyes raked over her, she was beautiful, perfect. Only her still prominent ribs and collar bone detracted from her beauty, it made him hope that someday he could see her like this when she was back to a healthy weight… He watched a flush work up from her breasts all the way to her hair line and he grinned. Unable to resist their lure, he lowered his face, kissing the valley between her breasts.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered against her heated skin. He skimmed his lips over her, kissing, teasing and exploring. They were both in heaven. He listened with no small amount of arrogance to her gasping breaths and felt her nails scrape up his back. He wanted to be sure that she never forgot him. If they survived this war, he wanted this memory etched in her mind forever as the best night she'd ever spent. As a beautiful, passionate, significant moment in her life. His hand trailed down to touch her and he nearly lost control when he found her ready and she strained against his hand. He was certain she had never been with a man before and he wanted the process to be as painless as possible. He slid a finger into her, feeling her tight heat. She gasped and he groaned at the feeling. He moved gently and she writhed against his hand. He pressed his palm against her and moved in soft circles and she arched her back and thrust her hips to meet his hand. He gently inserted another finger, wanting to make her as ready for him as possible. Her breathing became more frantic and her nails scored his back and pulled his hair.

"Draco," she gasped, the need becoming overwhelming. "Please…" she trailed off, unsure what to ask. But he knew. He hadn't had near as many conquests as he'd been credited for, but he knew what she wanted and that he'd never wanted anything as much as he did her in that moment. He pulled back to peel her knickers down her hips and tossed them away, forgotten completely. He quickly stood to remove his boxer shorts, returning to her as fast as possible.

"Look at me," he demanded and her eyes met his. "Tell me if I hurt you." He was pretty much certain that he'd be her first and that lit a strange fire in his soul, the satisfaction of knowing that he'd be the first to introduce her to these feelings and sensations. Their eyes were locked on each other as he moved gently, watching for any sign of pain or discomfort. He moved so slowly it was torture for them both, his jaw was clenched and his hands were clamped on her hips. After a moment her eyes fluttered closed and her mouth opened.

"Oh…" she exhaled. A slow smile spread over her face and she opened her eyes to look into his again.

"Are you okay?" he asked hoarsely, hoping he hadn't hurt her. In response she moved experimentally and gasped at the sensations that coursed through her. "No, hold still a minute. You're killing me, witch." He closed his eyes, he wanted to do this right, he wanted to make sure that this happy memory that she wanted was as close to perfect as he could make it. After taking a moment to calm himself, he began moving slowly, tortuously. Pushing them higher and higher. Her hands gripped his shoulders and her heels dug for purchase in the sofa cushions as she met his movements. He kissed her deeply and felt her tensing beneath him; he moved his hand between them and gently circled his thumb over her to push her over the edge. She tore her mouth away gasping for air and moaning his name, came undone. Her release fueled his own and his moans mingled with hers and were all her name.

They lay a tangle of limbs and blankets trying to catch their breath, still joined. It occurred to him that he should probably move so he wasn't crushing her, but even as he thought it her arms snaked across his shoulders to hold him. He was more than happy to stay put and nuzzled her neck. He sighed contentedly, not sure if he had every felt anything like this before. Happy didn't even come close to it. He'd never had so personal and emotional an experience with anyone before. He refused to let it scare him. This was part of redeeming himself. He wasn't Draco Malfoy: Death Eater any more. He was Draco Malfoy: human being with a heart. That sounded lame even in his own head, but it was true. He really felt like he was crushing her, so he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them so that he was underneath her and she was sprawled across his chest. They lay quietly, contentedly for some time; his hand was trailing slowly up and down her spine.

"You called me Hermione" she spoke sleepily against his neck; one of her hands was tracing small circles on his arm.

"Mmm," he grunted in response, then "You called me Draco." They lay in much the same way for a few more minutes, both feeling very relaxed and content. He wondered if he should carry her back to his bed… he was just a bit too tall for this couch.

"Will I be Granger again in the morning?" she asked sleepily. He had just started to drift off himself when she asked.

"No… I don't think so. I think we're past the point of no return on first names. Unless you want to go back to the way it was before…" he trailed off uncertainly. He was now fully awake, aware that this was a critical point in their relationship…. Or whatever was going on between them. If she wanted to go back to calling each other by their last names, it was drawing a line that cut off how close they could be. There was a certain level of distance and dislike maintained when they called the other by their last name, almost a refusal to acknowledge that they were worthy of being on a first-name-basis with each other.

"No, I like it. Say it again." She tilted her head up to nuzzle underneath his chin. He laughed softly, pleased with her answer.

"Hermione." He pulled her tighter against him. He felt like his heart was on display tonight.

"Draco…. Kiss me." She lifted her head and he pressed his lips to hers for a brief moment. He knew she was about to fall asleep. He rolled her off of him and settled her onto the pillow. He listened to her breathing slow.

"Do you want me to go back to my bed?" He whispered. He didn't really want to, but he was slightly uncomfortable... he'd never actually slept with anyone before. The night of his concussion hardly counted. Could she possibly want him to stay?

"No, stay." Good. He curled his arm around her waist and pulled her close so that they were spooning. They were both asleep in minutes and spent a dreamless rest of the night.

Hermione woke a few hours later feeling extremely warm. She realized she was almost entirely enveloped by Draco. His long frame was pressed against her back from the top of her head down to her toes and one of his arms was wrapped securely around her waist. It was surprisingly comfortable. She was also surprised that Malfoy was a cuddly sleeper; it was such an… intimate thing. Her thoughts drifted back to the night before. Part of her was in shock that she'd willingly had sex with Draco Malfoy. She could explain it intellectually: it had been seen time and time again that humans reacted that same way during times of war. War time babies. An emotional response when people tried to affirm their own existence by being physically intimate with another. A biological response that reacted to war saying 'when in danger: procreate.' Despite these knee-jerk responses, she was still satisfied with her decision to be intimate with Draco. She had meant what she'd said about wanting to make a decision for herself and for something other than fear. She was quite pleased with the results of said decision. Quite pleased indeed. She stretched and felt a few unfamiliar aches and sore muscles and smiled at the memory of making love with Draco. He'd been much more gentle and attentive than she would've thought. When she was younger she'd imagined that her first time would be with her husband on their wedding night, they would be madly in love and it would be an amazing experience. Well, that young version of herself was long gone. She was only 18 but the war had aged them all beyond their years. None of them were starry eyed children anymore. While her first time hadn't been the romantic wedding night she'd always naively envisioned, it had been pretty amazing. She smiled to herself and settled back in against Draco. His arm tightened around her as he slept.

Draco woke slowly to the feeling of a very feminine derriere nestled firmly against his groin, which promptly stood at attention. He pushed himself up onto his elbow and gazed down at her in the soft morning light. That furrow between her eyebrows from being incessantly deep in thought was finally gone, the dark circles she'd acquired over the last year had faded, and her cheeks weren't as hollowed as when she'd first been brought to the manor, he was happy she'd begun to put some weight back on. He leaned down and nuzzled his nose against her neck and ear. She smelled delicious. He trailed kisses down her throat to her shoulder. She opened her eyes and smiled, stretching against him.

"Hey," she said sleepily.

"Mmm, hey yourself. I like your sexy morning voice." She smiled and turned her face towards his and he kissed his way to her lips and captured them in a slow, sultry kiss. After a moment he broke the kiss and buried his face in her hair. "Ugh, I've got to get up. I want you again, but you're probably sore. I'll get us some breakfast instead." He gave her one kiss and got up to call for Trixie. Hermione smiled to herself and nestled back into the blankets, not quite ready to get out of bed.

They ate a quiet but comfortable breakfast, nearly all the tension between them had vanished. He'd worried that things would be awkward or she would regret sleeping with him, but she appeared completely at ease, and casually affectionate towards him. A brush of his shoulder as she passed, trailing a finger across his hand from across the table, resting her crossed feet atop his crossed ankles under the table. He liked it, but it would take some getting used to. Affection was not something that was ever permitted in his family. According to his father any sort of emotion, felt or displayed, made you weak and vulnerable to attack. Well, his father's way of life had obviously not been working for him, so he decided to live in the moment and enjoy Hermione for whatever time fate allowed them. He looked over at her to find that she was studying him thoughtfully. He walked around the table, swept her up in his arms and settled onto the sofa with her in his lap. He tucked a curl behind her ear as she wrapped her arms around his neck and lowered his lips to hers. It was so easy to just lose himself in her, to forget that they were in a house full of enemies and in the middle of a war. Who'd have thought that the girl he'd spent a great deal of time trying to break would come to mean so much to him in the space of a week and a half? Madness.


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