There was grass beneath their bodies. It was hot and cold. It felt as though the weather couldn't decide which direction to go. Hermione opened her eyes, and realized it had nothing to do with the weather at all. She was laying flat on her back, with Draco sitting beside her. The warmth was coming from him. The cold was coming from the air. He had Apparated them into some sort of meadow.

He gazed down at her with that worried look about his eyes. "Are you all right?"

Hermione remembered what happened, realizing she had blacked out. The memory of William's touch made her sick all over again, but she managed to block out those thoughts, and instead felt her eyes water. "I'm so, so sorry," she apologized, sitting upright. "I don't know what happened. I was – I was wrong. I ruined everything. I'm such an –"

It was daunting, how much their relationship had changed over the past few days. They still managed to exchange their fair share of insults, but the essence of their bond had forever transitioned into something much, much more different. Hermione's words were cut short. Her eyes went wide, and her thoughts dispersed. She inhaled, breathing in Draco's scent of scotch and spice, and felt his strong, bruised arms wrap around her waist.

There was one fleeting moment, wherein either of them could have pulled away – but it disappeared in a flash. Draco drew her close, placed one hand under her chin and kissed her.

Her mother had once described something to her, when Hermione became a young woman. It was about love and relationships – but primarily sex – and it revolved around the pressures laced within ones adolescent life. Hogwarts was a place for learning, but it most definitely did not provide any sort of barrier between Hermione and those pressures. She heard countless stories about her classmates snogging after hours and sometimes engaging in heavier, more permanent acts.

It terrified her, realizing they had reached the age wherein such acts were prevalent. She was undoubtedly mature for her age, but Hermione was nowhere near ready to do anything more than kiss. Even that, she had only done twice, with two different boys. Her priorities were different, in comparison to others. She had spent most of her teen years dodging Death Eaters alongside her best friends: Harry and Ron. There was no time or room for teen love.

But right then, still dodging Death Eaters and still carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, Hermione felt different.

Draco kissed her, slowly and sensually, grazing their lips together with a heated sort of desperation. It was like an out-of-body experience, kissing him in a field of grass with thousands of stars glittering across the darkened veil that was the night sky. There was so much conviction in the way he touched her, and tasted her. It felt as though, with each movement, he transferred all his thoughts, fears, dreams and desires onto her – every single one.

It wasn't just a kiss. It was…everything.

The muscles along his torso tightened, as she started to kiss back. His hands traveled to the small of her back. She could feel his body heat through the fabric of her dress, and right then Hermione remembered it was torn in several different places. Their bodies were pressed together so tight that it didn't mater. The kiss deepened. It was fine, at first, and then Draco's lips started to tremble against hers.

He pulled away.

His eyes were bright with fire. His breath was staggered. His clothes and hair were matted in blood. The wound across his forehead was bleeding again. His lips were swollen. There were so many imperfections – but he still managed to look tempting.

"I…I don't know where that came from," Draco made clear, at a loss. "I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone. I shouldn't even be – I just don't – I should have never –"

Hermione placed a hand over his mouth. Their eyes met. "Tell me something," she whispered to him. "How long have you wanted to do that?"

He inhaled, the moment her hand drifted from his lips, and stared between her big brown eyes with hesitation. He was afraid of something, but it wasn't the type of fear one would expect from him. It was…shyness.

Draco shifted his gaze to the ground. He laced his fingers through the long blades of grass, and took a moment to think. It felt as though an answer would never leave his lips, but then he glanced up and ignored all forms of logic. "Three months," he told her. "I've wanted to – I've wanted you – for three months."

The temperature in her body rose. Hermione took a deep, rousing breath, and watched as his eyes slowly traveled from hers, down her neck, to her breasts. It appeared as though he wanted to look away, but didn't. There was colour in his cheeks, as his gaze lingered there for longer than anticipated. She could see the struggle in his eyes, and gently placed her hand on his.

His eyes flicked up, just in time to watch as she leaned forward. The heat from her lips seared his flesh. She brushed her mouth over his left ear and spoke. "Kiss me again, Draco."

The way in which his muscles hardened against her made Hermione melt into a different realm of pleasure. His hands found her waist and hair. His lips found her neck. The brunette closed her eyes, releasing breathless moans into the cold, dark night. She had never been touched like that before. She had never been kissed like that before.

Draco separated, just for a moment, to catch some air. "I – I'm sorry for being jealous," he murmured, bringing her mouth to his. "I never knew I wanted you this bad."

"It's okay," she assured him, kissing back.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked, sucking on her lips.

Hermione nodded once, dragging him towards her as she leaned back, onto the grass. "I want this," she said. "I want you. I want it all."

A/N: Thanks for reading. More to come. Don't forget to leave a review. I need some feedback lol.

xo.