Draco didn't know what to think anymore. Didn't know how to feel. One minute Hermione was avoiding him or snapping at him; the next she was being hotter than any Sex Goddess he could ever have thought to imagine, sucking him off, and licking her lips as if wanting more. He could have come again right then and there. And then watching her touch herself… he wanted to groan just at the thought.

'So… was it worth it, Malfoy?'

She had no clue how much it had been worth. She had no clue how much he'd been willing to give. He couldn't think of a single thing that would have been worth denying her – and she had no idea. He'd like to keep it that way.

Dangerous.

But what could she possibly want from him that might endanger him? She didn't want her friends to know, either. She might not be in any danger, and he rather liked it that way, but she still had something to lose. No, she wouldn't ask anything from him that he couldn't give.

Breaking it off with Pansy would be a very small price to pay for this. He needed to break it off with her anyway. This farce was serving no purpose anymore and, even though she might not want to admit it, Pansy would be much happier on her own. That Hermione had demanded it had, however, stunned him. He had known it bothered her, of course, but he'd never thought she'd come right out and say it.

Hermione had laid back down and snuggled up against him, clearly exhausted. He extinguished the light, once again enfolding them in darkness, and she sighed contentedly, snuggling closer, putting her head on his chest. It had taken him days to get her to do that – or rather, nights. He didn't understand why it was harder for her to share body heat than to share sex.

"You know," she mumbled sleepily, her voice slightly muffled. "You don't have to do it."

"Do what?" he asked, a little distracted.

"Break it off with Pansy. I mean, if you even really meant to."

He frowned. What was this, then? "I said I would, didn't I? We made a deal."

She made a dismissive sound. "I would have done it anyway. I was just testing you."

"What kind of test is it if I don't have to go through with it?" For some reason he couldn't explain he was beginning to feel upset.

"A silly one." She yawned and sighed again. "Thanks for saying you'd do it, though."

Something sliced at him, tore at his insides. She didn't care if he did it or not? "I'll do it," he said angrily. "Just give me a few days to figure out how."

She shrugged lightly. Shrugged.

"Why did you ask for it if you didn't want it?" he asked, fighting hard to keep his tone civil. "I'm sure there were any number of things you could have chosen to test me with."

"I don't know…" she said, sounding a little more awake. "Why does this upset you?"

He clenched his teeth. It upsets me, because I offered you anything, and you apparently chose you wanted nothing from me. "It doesn't."

"You're lying to me," she said. "But you always do that." She had sat up, robbing him of her touch.

"Not everything I say is a lie!" Why did she have to ruin this?

"No… You only lie about the important stuff." She was sounding put out now. What reason did she have?

"It's not important. None of this is important." He tried to brush her off.

"Then why are you upset?" she persevered. Annoying little bitch.

"I am not upset!" he all but shouted. He was well aware that it had been a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth. "You're just bugging the hell out of me. Give it a rest, will you?"

She fell silent and he sighed. How could he placate her without giving himself away?

"I don't like that you extract promises from me that you don't even care if I keep," he said. That wasn't a lie.

"Oh…" she said. "Well…" She fell silent again. He wondered what she wasn't saying. Finally, she mumbled, "I just didn't think you'd do it."

"You'll see, won't you?" he asked, pulling her back down.

"I suppose," she said, still sounding doubtful.

Deciding he'd had enough conversation for one night, he flipped her over, pinning her beneath him, and began kissing her neck. Ignoring her objections, he moved up to her mouth. Catching it, he tasted the salty essence of himself and for a second he stopped, stunned.

"Told you to stop," she mumbled, sounding like she was smirking.

Thought she had him, did she? He kissed her again, deeper, more thoroughly. Her lips parted on a gasp at his second onslaught, and his tongue slipped in, tasting and teasing. She felt warm and heady and tasted like sex. She softened beneath him as she usually did, responding to his kiss. He was hard again and shifted his body so she would know.

She moaned with need. "You're sick!" she thought it fit to inform him even as she moved against him.

He smirked against her. Yes, he was… and it felt great.

Before many days had passed, Draco decided that he rather liked Hermione's periods. Still, he couldn't wait for it to be done with, so he could finally have her again. Playing around was nice and all, but it didn't compare to the real thing.

The level of his need worried him a bit. Sometimes, he'd sit in class and just stare at the back of her bushy head, not registering anything, while imagining her naked and flushed with pleasure. It couldn't be healthy to be this obsessed, but he found it hard to resist.

He was pleasantly surprised that so far nobody had a clue about his interest in Hermione. This meant they didn't have to break it off yet. The fact that they hated each other so much made it unthinkable for anyone that there might be more. Of course, it helped a little that they were usually seen bickering or fighting whenever they were talking. If only people knew that it was nothing but foreplay…. As far as he was concerned, it was, anyway.

Apparently, her tutoring him excused these extra communications they had to a very high degree as she had shown people a slightly remedied public version of their contract by now, making him the laughing stock of most Slytherins. Now people knew he was all but emasculated, and it was only a matter of time before they'd take full advantage of that, making life hard on him. He reminded himself that he had to punish her for that.

Punishing Hermione was always something to look forward to.

Pleasing her was even better.

Giving her the light had been an impulse. It wasn't as if he'd bought her anything. He had had that extra light that he hadn't gotten around to returning, and she had wanted one like it. He couldn't face her with it, though, so he had done the next best thing – pushed her over and shoved it into her bag while she was too busy being angry at him to notice.

Ok, so maybe that had been an odd way to go about it, but the end result had been as he'd wished. She had obviously liked it, and he had gotten some very long nights of sexual favors. She would probably claim that it wasn't connected, but he'd already learned that he got more from her if he kept her somewhat happy outside of bed as well as in bed. So much more….

McLaggen had met with a series of minor accidents lately. Hermione didn't seem to be aware of this, or she would surely have been on Draco's case by now. Draco, however, was innocent as a lamb. He wasn't doing anything. So what if he did drop a few hints – or ingredients – at Crabbe and Goyle every once in a while? He wasn't even near when it happened. Well, maybe he was just near enough to watch…. It had been priceless the day McLaggen had turned purple and had had to spend the rest of the day in the hospital wing. Draco smirked at the thought.

He was woken from his pleasant reverie as someone else entered the Slytherin common room. Marilyn Shaw, looking annoyed and distressed as she so often seemed to be these days. She should just dump that Zabini and be over with it.

"Have you seen—"

"No." No reason to pretend. "But you already knew that."

With an exasperated grunt, she flung herself down on the sofa across from him. "He's off with Pansy again," she said sullenly. "They're cheating on us."

That surprised Draco somewhat. "Zabini and Pansy? No… I don't think so. Why would they want to? You're prettier than her, and I'm almost definitely nicer than him."

She laughed humorlessly. "Yeah? Where is she then? And why is he never where he says he'll be?"

Draco shrugged. He couldn't care less. "Just get rid of him. Why do you want to be with him anyway?"

She glanced at him and shrugged too, before studying her feet. "He's very good-looking."

"Now there's a recipe for a nice, long relationship," he drily replied.

"Look who's talking," she sneered at him. "Why are you still together with that slut?"

Ouch. He seemed to have hit a sore spot. "Because I don't care," he calmly replied. "Do you have that luxury?"

She stood up abruptly, glaring down at him, looking as if she might strike him. Then she stormed off to her dormitory.

That had almost been fun.

Time passed. Draco noticed that after he insisted Hermione call him by his first name, she had simply refrained from calling him anything. This annoyed him. He was finally allowed to sleep with her again, and he did, whenever she let him. She was, however, still demanding her rest and she refused to use the glamour spell on her bed every night to come sleep in his bed. He won out most nights, but there were still the nights he didn't….

He also hadn't broken it off with Pansy yet, but Hermione didn't comment on that. This annoyed him more. He was going to; he just needed to find the right way to go about it. Pansy might be insecure and clingy, but she still had plenty of spite and the means to make his life a living Hell if she should choose to do so.

In the end, the solution presented itself.

He was walking back to his common room after dinner next to a very sulky Marilyn, who had once again been forgotten or possibly deliberately stood up. He didn't bother pointing out to her that she didn't really have a boyfriend anyway and might as well dump him, as she was being terribly snappy about the whole thing. Normally, he'd take great pleasure in baiting her, but today his head was aching and shrill female voices just weren't worth it.

They had left early, as neither had wanted much to eat – Marilyn had been busy sulking, and Draco's headache was seriously interfering with his appetite. Besides, he had thought it prudent to let Hermione see him leave with another female, when she had flat out refused to come sleep at his dormitory. Again. She said she needed to study more. Yes, because she was really falling behind… as if she could.

When the wall slid away, he was treated to the last thing he had wanted: a shrill female voice.

"I don't want to be with Draco anymore!" Pansy loudly exclaimed at a cold-eyed Zabini.

Well, then… from the look on Marilyn's face, she had definitely heard as well. "Duly noted," Draco calmly said.

Pansy whirled around a panicked look on her face. "Draco! I didn't mean…"

"Do yourself a favor, Pansy," he said. "Don't embarrass yourself over this."

"Told you," Marilyn said, smirking.

"Marilyn, please…" he said, his head throbbing worse than ever.

Pansy's eyes narrowed on Marilyn, cold fury in them. "Fine, Draco, I did mean it. But tell me; is this the whore you've been cheating on me with?"

That wiped the smirk off Marilyn's face. "Who's the whore, you two-timing bitch?"

Draco groaned. Tonight of all nights. "None of your business, Pansy," he said, not bothering to deny it, figuring Marilyn might want some leverage against Pansy and Zabini if she was going to fight them. He wasn't entirely unhappy, either, if people generally thought she had been the one. "You're my ex now, remember?" he continued to remind her. "You're free to do whatever or," his eyes went to Zabini, "whoever, you choose, as am I."

Pansy flushed a little. So Marilyn had been right? He didn't understand how that could be. Zabini was such a cold, mean, condescending bastard. Ah, well, there was no accounting for taste. He shrugged. Whatever. It really was none of his concern.

"Well, have fun…" he said and left for his dormitory, not caring if or how they fought it out. He was free at last. And he had a migraine that almost made him glad that Hermione wouldn't come tonight. Almost. He wondered how she'd react to the news.

"Didn't you hear me?" he asked. They were in the library. Hermione kept insisting that they put up a studying front, but from the way she was riding him, he hardly felt it was a front. He liked it much better when she took him for a different kind of ride….

He'd just told her that Pansy was history and she hadn't reacted in the least, not even the flicker of an eye.

"I heard you," she calmly replied.

"And you have nothing to say?"

"What would you like me to say?" she asked. "Congratulations?"

Why did she always have to be so bloody indifferent to him outside of bed? "You got what you wanted; can't you at least pretend to be pleased?"

"I heard a different story," she said coolly. "It involved Pansy breaking it off because you were sleeping with Shaw."

He blinked. That was unexpected. "And you believe that?" he asked. Just how much stamina did she believe he had?

"I believe that Pansy broke it off because you've been cheating on her, yes."

"Pansy wouldn't have broken it off if I had had an orgy in front of her! She's known there's been someone for months. And you know that that someone is not Shaw. I'm not into her."

She smiled unsympathetically. "Yes, well, nonetheless, it was convenient. You got rid of her without any real effort on your part."

She didn't accept the way it was done? Did she expect him to request a do-over just so she might approve of how he did it? "I thought you didn't care!"

"I don't," she said, looking stony. "I just don't want you taking credit where none is due."

He stared at her. Then he noticed it – the strain at her mouth and her eyes. He had hurt her? How? By not breaking it off with Pansy? "I did break it off with her," he said softly, desperately wanting her to understand. "I heard her say she didn't want to be with me, it's true, but she was going to—"

"Hey, Hermione!" Draco was interrupted by the Weasley moron approaching. Damn it. "Thought I could find you here. Won't you be finished with tutoring this git soon?" Weasley gave Draco a disgusted look that was darkly returned.

"Yes… Yes, I believe I will…" Hermione mumbled without looking at Draco.

What? Surely she didn't mean… "Get your business done, Weasel," he said a bit hoarsely. "I'm not paying her to waste my time consorting with riff-raff."

Weasley scowled at him and bent to whisper something in Hermione's ear. It was obviously just to provoke Draco and it did, but not in the way Weasley thought. Draco looked them and saw the easy familiarity, the closeness, the way they thought nothing of touching each other, and he saw red.

He knew he had to contain himself, however, or Hermione might up and leave and not allow him near her again. She was too damn close to doing that already. The next couple of minutes were the longest of his life. His hands were shaking, and the grip on his book was turning his knuckles white. Finally the Weasel left.

"About bloody time," he bit out. "What did he want?"

"None of your concern," she calmly replied.

"Don't do this!" he wasn't aware of what he was saying before it had slipped out. She looked up at him, startled. He flushed a little but persevered. "Don't push me away because I didn't do this right. Please."

Not breaking eye contact was one of the harder things that he'd ever had to do. He had a feeling that if he looked away, he'd lose, and she would be what he lost. But he felt her eyes could see straight through him and that, combined with her silence, was very unsettling. Giving up was tempting but not an option.

Finally she looked away. "I suppose…" she said hesitantly, "that maybe you can have the benefit of the doubt."

He released a breath he wasn't aware that he'd held and briefly closed his eyes. Close call. And why did he care so much anyway? He would worry about that later. "Will you come tonight, then?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I-I don't think it'll be such a good—"

"So you aren't giving me the benefit of the doubt, after all?" he asked, feeling unduly hurt. He couldn't stand being there, near her, anymore, and stood up, gathering his books. "Let me know if you change your mind," he bitterly said, before he hurried off.

Later that night, Draco cursed his own stupidity. He could have talked her into coming. He knew he could. He had done it so many times before. She wasn't at all immune to his touch. He could have seduced her if he had bothered to try and get her alone. He had just wanted her to accept him without his machinations for once. It had been a stupid want that had ultimately brought him nothing. So what if he had to chase her? It was plenty worth it in the end.

She couldn't be allowed time to think. She was too damn smart. If she thought about it, she would realize how stupid and hopeless this was, and she would really break it off. He couldn't allow that. Eventually they would be done and it would be over, yes, but not yet. Right now she was the link that allowed him to keep his sanity. Tomorrow, he would pursue her again, harder than before if he had to.

He was just lying down, hoping to get a little sleep, when he heard a sound. He strained his ears, trying to hear, but there was nothing. Brushing it off as just the wind, he closed his eyes and heard it again.

"Pssst!"

He sat up and opened his drapes.

"About time," someone breathed near his ear as his bed moved.

His heart did a flip-flop. She had come? He closed the drapes again, recasting the spells to make sure they stayed in place. "Well, you did say no…" he said. "What caused this change of heart, then?"

She was now fully visible and had released some light. Merlin, she was a sight for sore eyes. She decided to roll her own at his comment. "If you don't want me here, I can leave again," she offered.

"No," he said. It was a simple denial. He wasn't about to allow her to go.

"I figured you had a point," she said. "After all, I never really did expect you to do it…"

In one fluid movement, he pinned her beneath him. It was a good way to get her attention and feel her body pressed against his at the same time. It didn't even matter that she was fully dressed. "I did it," he growled at her. "She would have gone on pretending, but I told her to forget it!"

"How many witnesses were there?" she softly asked.

"Two. Why?"

"So, in front of two witnesses and you, she says she doesn't want to be with you. She wouldn't have been able to go on pretending anything. Especially not if one of the witnesses was Shaw, who hates her with a passion." From the look on her face, she already knew that one of them had been Shaw. But of course, who else would have leaked the news?

"You're exaggerating."

Hermione shook her head. "Pansy ruined it for herself. But it doesn't matter, does it? You're free of the tedious business of holding her hand now."

He frowned down at her. "It bothers you that I held her hand?"

Her slightly pink cheeks confirmed it, but she shook her head again.

He let his hands slide down her arms, finding her hands. Entwining their fingers, he lifted her arms and pinned them above her head. "Now I'm holding both of yours," he mumbled against her ear. "Does that help?"

"Don't be silly," she said breathlessly. "Why would I care about—"

"You care," he interrupted a little irritably. "Otherwise you wouldn't have been so mad about this whole thing."

"Look who's talking." She looked at him defiantly.

"I suppose…" he slowly said, "that we're both bad at sharing."

She looked at him for a second, and then she nodded. Just one curt nod. It pleased him immensely.

He bent down to whisper in her ear. "Now, stop being so stubborn and say my name."

She jerked. Did she really think he wouldn't have noticed? "I-I don't know what you mean," she said. "I use your name all the time."

"Yeah?" he mocked. "Then you must be talking about me a lot, because I've yet to hear you say it."

She looked him straight in the eye. "Malfoy."

"Wrong."

"Oh, so that isn't your name?" she mocked him.

"You know perfectly well what I meant. Why does it bother you so much… Hermione?"

"Why is this such a big deal to you?"

"It obviously is to you too or you'd just do it."

"It feels too intimate, ok? I don't like using it." She squirmed, trying to get free, but he held her easily.

He tried to process that. "You'll sleep with me regularly, and you will put that smart mouth of yours to good use sucking me off… but my given name is too intimate for you?"

She glared angrily at him. "Just forget it. You won't make me."

She shouldn't have issued him a challenge. He could see that she realized the same thing, as her eyes widened and her lips parted. Too late. He smirked, and a look of panic fleeted across her face. He would really enjoy this.

He inclined his head and softly covered her lips with his. Of course she didn't object to the kiss, it was what she was here for after all. Bending her to his will would be an exquisite way to spend the night. He let go of her hands and shifted so his weight wasn't on her, resting on one elbow and placing his other hand on her waist, softly caressing her through the robes she was still wearing. She hadn't told him, but he knew she liked it if he didn't grope her too much before she was good and ready for it. He knew more about what she liked than she could possibly imagine. He was going to use it all to get his way.

He softly massaged her lips with his until she parted them again on a sigh and buried her hands in his hair, pulling him closer. Fighting a triumphant smile, he allowed it and set out to explore her warm, soft mouth with his tongue. She made a strangled sound of surprise at his continued efforts to be gentle; they were never gentle with each other. They were always tearing and bruising. How silly of her to be surprised. He would obviously need for her not to be able to anticipate his next move for this to work.

Slowly, he allowed his hand to slide up and knead her breast through her robes. Such nice breasts. They never got the attention they fully deserved. She moaned, obviously liking this new way of things. Interesting. "Say my name," he mumbled against her lips.

She shook her head. No, he supposed not yet. But she would. Pulling back, he looked her in the eye, while lowering his breast-kneading hand to take off her belt. He had done it so many times by now that he didn't need to look. In five seconds flat, he had it pulled off her without breaking eye contact. She flushed a little, but he suspected it was mostly from anticipation.

He began slowly pulling at her robes, gathering them at her waist, and she did nothing to stop him. Of course she didn't. Her objections were purely outside of his bed. Inside it, she was always willing – at least when it was still before dawn.

He let his hand stray to her bared thigh and now he had to break eye contact. He wanted to look at her legs. Looking down, he fought hard to contain himself. Her legs were shapely, creamy goodness, coming together where… He stopped and stared. The girl seemed to have a few weapons of her own.

She giggled, and his head snapped up. "Like my underwear?" she purred.

"That's new," he mumbled. Her underwear was usually the sensible, generic, slightly cute cotton thingies that he supposed most of the girls their age would wear. This wasn't. This was a sexy red silk thong that made the blood rush from his head so fast that he almost got dizzy. It was all he could do not to rip it off her and have his way. The minx.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said in a voice sweet as sugar. "It's a set, you know."

He fought a groan. This was unfair. He wasn't entirely sure that he could contain himself if he saw her clad in nothing but her red silk set. "You have one hell of a timing, Hermione," he admonished in a hoarse whisper.

"That's what I thought," she said, sitting up to remove her robes. "And here I thought that it was just the spur of the moment."

He stared at her, seriously debating how much it was worth to have her saying his name. He could always make her later, after all. Her skin was flawless and smooth, and the red silk really did set off her complexion in the most delicious way. The bra cupped her breasts perfectly, making whisper-soft caresses as she moved, hinting at the delights to be found behind it. This time he was unable to suppress his groan. He definitely liked. Too bloody much.

"You know," she purred, lying back, confident of her victory and causing the silk to ripple, "I never thought you'd let me keep it on this long."

A certain part of Draco's anatomy jerked at her words, and he fought hard to contain it. No, he couldn't let her win. He'd get her back for this, and he would take a long, long time doing it. Yes, he knew just how. He forced his eyes away from her body and just smiled at her. "Cute," he said, making her scowl. "But unless you say my name…"

She made a rude noise. "You should be saying my name."

He smiled and whispered in her ear: "I plan to. As I thrust into you over and over again… But only," he paused as he felt her shudder, her breath coming faster. "… But only after you say my name." She whimpered a little but remained silent. Merlin, her stubborn streak was a mile wide.

Just say it so I can do what we both want.

"Just take me," she whispered, pressing her body against him. He nearly came undone at the feel of nothing but silk between their torsos and her blatant invitation.

He clenched his teeth and fought the need down. Who did he want to have the upper hand? He pushed her back down. "All in good time, my sweet." He caressed her inner thigh, trying hard to just pick up where he'd left off. Her breathing was shallow. When he reached her knickers, he realized that she was more than ready for him and again he had to fight back his need. Instead, he let two fingers enter her, sending her into a frenzy.

Her creamy complexion was now tinged by a blush that even reached her lovely breasts. She was ready to come. He wouldn't let her. He slowly caressed her, sliding his fingers in and out, forcing himself to think of something else. She was pleading with him now. "Say my name," he choked out.

"W-will you take me if I do it?" she asked in a desperate voice.

Oh, Merlin, yes. He nodded.

"Draco," she breathed.

To finally hear her say his name sent a jolt of pleasure through him that was so intense that he had to fight not to embarrass himself by coming right then and there. "Say it again," he choked out.

"Draco. Please…"

He ripped the remainders of their clothes off so violently that he thought he might have ripped her knickers. Whatever. If they couldn't be repaired, he'd buy her new ones. A dozen new ones. He needed to be inside her now. She was pulling at him, urging him on.

Finally, he thrust inside of her, her sheath tightly surrounded him. He groaned. She must be close for her to be so tense. He thrust once more and felt the ripples of her orgasm around him. Oh, Merlin, this felt wonderful. He wanted to bury himself hard and deep, but he held back, prolonging the pleasure. He gently kissed her, and she devoured him in turn. He had to break it off.

"Don't, you're making me come," he gasped.

"Draco…" she whispered, making him shudder with the need for release.

"Minx," he growled.

"I thought you were going to say my name," she teased.

He moved slowly inside of her, savoring the feeling. "Hermione…" he moaned. This was agonizing and intense and felt nothing short of amazing. He wanted to make it last as long as he could. He had to close his eyes to block out her flushed, passionate face or he wouldn't even have that.

She had begun moving against him again, and she was touching his burning, needy skin, caressing his chest and arms and back while he moved unbearably slow. "Please, Draco," she whimpered. "Stop teasing."

Her saying his name once again had him jerk and stop for a second to regain control. He had no idea how erotic it would sound coming from her lips. His body was slick with sweat from the effort, and he knew that once he came it would blow his mind. It took all he had not to strive for it, and he knew that next time he wouldn't be able to stay in control. He began moving again, slightly faster.

This time he claimed a kiss to keep her silent just for a little while, so he could get her to come with him. He wouldn't have thought he could last long enough, except she was tensing around him, becoming impossibly tight, making it impossible for him to think coherently. She was making sexy little unintelligible sounds. He slowly pushed her thighs up, making her open more, and him enter more deeply. Her eyes widened as if in surprise and then he felt it again, the ripples going through her, massaging him in a way that was beyond his willpower to resist.

She moaned his name, and he lost the battle. He trembled and without once increasing his pace, he came in the most intense orgasm of his life. He felt it in every inch of his body, a burning tingle of pleasure that erupted into ecstasy and then ebbed into warm contentment. He had squeezed his eyes shut while the worst shudders went through him, but as he opened them again, he found her gazing dreamily at him.

Oh, Merlin, he thought in his dazed state. I love her so much.