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**** HERMIONE ****

"You were going to cook for me?" I tried to keep the shock out of my voice, but failed. Draco Malfoy cooking wasn't something I ever considered. I assumed he would have had a house elf to do everything for him. So the fact that he did something so incredibly domestic astounded me.

"Yes, Granger, I was going to cook for you." He grinned at my shock, "I had this whole seduction plan; cook you dinner, get you drunk on expensive wine, and then I was going eat your pussy for desert in my bed."

"Wow, colour me seduced," I said rolling my eyes and ignoring his attempt to embarrass me. We were still tangled together naked on the day bed in the garden, so embarrassed wasn't something that either of us should have been. "What were you planning on cooking?

"Oh, oysters; salmon with asparagus and chilli; and pomegranate and figs with chocolate."

I groaned and shook my head, "You do know that all of those foods being considered aphrodisiacs is complete bullshit, don't you?"

He laughed, "Of course, but how good does that menu sound?"

"Well, I already gave it up, so you could probably feed me cereal and juice and I'd be happy."

"I can do better than cereal and juice." He laughed again. "But before you turned my table into this bed - mind you, not that I care - my plan was pretty spectacular."

I looked over his shoulder at the garden beyond, "More spectacular than this?"

"So much more."

I ran my hand down his chest, across his ribs, coming to rest on the curve of his hip. "Lay it out for me then."

"Well, Granger, we were going to have wine and canapés up here in the garden, and after that I was going to take you down to my library and have our main course, and I will admit that I lived in the hope that you would let me put my fingers inside you again while you read to me." He grinned quickly at me before continuing "And after you came down from your high, we were going to have desert while I showed you my art collection. And then," he rolled awkwardly to the side of the bed, reaching down and picking up his wand. He aimed it above us and music flooded the garden. My eyes went wide; Corey Taylor's voice surrounded us. "I had planned to have you beside the fire in my bedroom while this played."

I was speechless. I didn't know how to respond. He had planned to replicate all of our dates - well almost all of them; I saw no brooms - in one night.

"I wanted to keep things simple, to show you that even though every date we've been on has been big and grand, none of it matters," He rubbed his hand along my thigh, smiling at me. "This is all that matters, you and me."

I opened my mouth but no words came out. He had not only carefully planned each of our dates, but he had planned them out to precisely match with everything that was possible in his own home.

"You okay, Granger?"

"I think I should get dressed and start the night over. I feel like I've missed out."

His hand moved from my thigh to cup my breast, "I don't think you missed out on anything. And I don't think clothes are necessary. We can be naked and still do all of what I had planned."

I raked my eyes down his body and back up again, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

He circled his thumb around my nipple, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Why ever not?"

I slipped my hand from his hip and brushed my finger through the soft hair at the base of his cock, "Because I don't think I could concentrate on eating with this on display."

Laughing, he leaned in and kissed me. "We do need to eat though. I'm starving."

I nodded, "Cereal and juice it is then."

He poked me in the ribs, "And I told you, I can do much better than that."

Leaning over the side of the bed he reached for his t-shirt, handing it to me. He sat up, reaching down again and pulled his boxers on, and my stomach stirred at the sight of his arse in the stretchy cotton. His naked arse was something to behold, but covered as it was, it was even more phenomenal.

Sitting up, I pulled the t-shirt over my head, inhaling the scent of him as the soft material brushed over my face. It was something that I never knew could be so powerful. The food may not have been an aphrodisiac, but the scent of him certainly was.

I stood, looking around at our discarded clothes, searching for my knickers. Seeing a glimpse of blue under his jeans, I snagged them and pulled them on, looking up to see the disappointment on his face.

"There is no way I'm walking around your flat pants-less." I deadpanned.

Hooking one finger under the hem of the t-shirt he pulled it up slightly, "But you're so pretty without them."

I snorted a laugh, "Nice try. The pants stay on."

"For now," he said, leaning in to kiss me. "Now, I think I promised to feed you."

I kissed him back and let him lead me down the stairs, watching his arse with every step he took, and I had to lower my head to cover my smile.

Draco Malfoy. Near naked and planning on cooking for me.

Draco Malfoy. Near naked after making me come twice.

Draco Malfoy. Near naked after all but telling me he loved me.

Holy shit!

The dawning realisation had me sucking in a breath and freezing mid-step. My heart twisted in my chest, and I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of his unspoken words crushing me.

"Granger?" His hand gripped my shoulder and his voice sounded panicked. "Granger, what's wrong?"

Shaking my head, I opened my eyes and smiled, "Nothing, just a little dizzy."

His face relaxed at my lie, and he smirked, "Well, you did expend a huge amount of energy just now."

I gave him what I hoped was an incredulous glare, "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Of course," he smiled and ran his hand along my arm, "You're alright though?"

"I am. I just need a minute."

His hand moved from my arm to the side of my face, and he leaned in and kissed me so sweetly my heart twisted again. "Meet me downstairs when you're ready."

I nodded, scared if I spoke my voice would break. I stepped into his bedroom, resolutely not looking at the bed, nor the fireplace, and quietly closed the bathroom door behind me. I flipped the toilet seat down and sat heavily, leaning my head in my hands.

I hated having to hide from him, but I needed some space. I needed a minute to get straight in my head what the hell had just happened. And on top of that, I needed to figure out exactly what it was that I was feeling.

I wasn't shocked at his near confession; I had known without a doubt for weeks just how he felt. No, this was the sudden and immense realisation crashing down on me that this was all real. This was us. That we were now us.

And it wasn't that I didn't want this, because I did, but why was it that we were us? I hadn't brought it up with him and maybe I should have; the years he spent bullying me, calling me mudblood, telling everyone who would listen that I was beneath him.

I laughed a tiny, ironic sound. Beneath him. I'd just spent the last hour beneath him. And holy shit! It had possibly been the best moment of my life. Not because of how tender and caring he had been, not because he had taken his time, not because he had made love to me. But because of the way he had given me everything, the raw emotion, the openness in his face, the choked sound he made when he first pushed inside me. And it was that sound, the breathless sob that told me just how much he felt. It told me that everything prior to that moment had been irrelevant. Our dates had been nothing more than a distraction to get us to that one moment.

And in that one moment, the once dark, broody, imperfect man just outside the door, who at one time hated me, had shed every last guard he had left up and given himself completely to me.

And I had done the same.

I had fallen for him, and had done so long before these five dates. And while I had known from the start exactly where we were headed, the thought of now being with him in public, of being with him around our friends; of spending nights together in his bed, or mine, of being us, was suddenly too much to deal with all at once.

"Granger?" A loud knock on the door made me almost jump out of my skin, and the concern in his voice made my stomach twist. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," I called, but knew he wouldn't miss the waver in my voice.

He was silent for a few seconds, "Can I come in?"

I let out the breath I was holding and tried to stand, but my legs felt like jelly, and I was certain they wouldn't hold me up. I couldn't get out of this. I had to tell him, Daphne was right; I had to talk to him about this before anything really started.

"Come in," I finally called, and braced myself for his reaction to seeing me sitting here.

The door opened slowly and a tiny flicker of surprise crossed his face, gone as quick as it came.

"You've been up here a while," he said quietly, as if trying not to startle me.

I frowned, "Really?"

Nodding, he knelt in front of me, his hands curling around my calves, "About twenty minutes. What's going on? Having second thoughts?"

"Draco, no, please don't think that. I want this, I do," I shook my head quickly. Twenty minutes. It felt like two. "I just..." I rubbed my forehead and he watched me patiently.

The words I wanted to say were too harsh, to cruel, especially after what we had just done. Especially after how amazing he had been. I didn't want to ruin it.

"Tell me," he said, sensing my hesitation. "Whatever you're thinking, just tell me. No filter."

I stared at his face, a small smile sat on his lips, and his eyes held a look that said he had an idea of what was coming.

"You hated me." I said in a voice that was barely a whisper.

"I did," he said and squeezed my calves.

"You said my blood was filthy."

He nodded, "I did."

"You were a bully, and a bigot, and thought me less than you. You said some truly hurtful things." I scratched at my scar. I barely gave it a thought anymore, it had been a part of me for so long it didn't bother me. But right now, the word was almost a glowing beacon between us. "And not just to me. To Harry and Ron and Neville."

Moving his hand from my leg, he gently stopped my hand. He lifted my arm and kissed the reddened skin my scratching had caused. "It's all true. All of it, and I can't take back any of it. I was all of those things and I said all of those things. I was disgusting and I was cruel. And there are no excuses for how I treated you. You certainly didn't deserve it." He kissed my arm again and smiled at me, "All I can do is ask that you forgive me, because no matter how long I live, I will never forgive myself."

"I forgave you a long time ago." A tear slipped from my eye and slid down my cheek, and my fingers moved back to my scar, "I know we've talked about some things, but we've never talked about this."

"So tell me," he said, rubbing his thumb over the scar on my forearm. "Tell me everything you felt that night. Tell me everything you felt before that night. And everything after."

I closed my eyes. I never thought I would be sitting in his bathroom after having the most amazing sex of my life, having this discussion.

"I've never been so scared in my life. Not before, not after. When she did this to me...I thought I was going to die that night, Draco. Was sure of it. And I have never in my life felt so much hatred for another person. I will forever be grateful that Molly rid this world of her." I looked up at him and he was simply listening without any judgement. I touched his cheek, "I didn't hate you. Only her. You pretended not to know us, and that almost certainly gave us enough time to be rescued. You played a part in saving us, Draco. And your mother certainly saved Harry. Forgiveness was easy after that."

"She saved Harry to save me," he said moving his hands to my thighs and rubbing gently, "She wasn't being as selfless as you think."

"She still did it though," I managed a small smile, "And so did you."

"It wasn't enough though. It will never be enough." Cupping my face, he stared right into my eyes, "I have so much to make up for when it comes to you. These last few weeks are just the start."

"What changed for you?"

"You changed me," he brushed his thumbs across my cheeks, "You took on a dark lord and a swarm of death eaters," his eyes flicked down to my arm, "You survived a hell that I can't even imagine, and you defended my friends and I when you could have simply told the world we were complete arseholes and let us all rot in jail."

"Draco, no. I would never have done that."

"I know you wouldn't, and that was when I changed" he said and kissed me, "Of all the people around me, you were the only one who ever showed me compassion, and kindness, despite how I treated you."

"And now..." I paused, not sure I should say the words.

"No filter, Granger." He reminded me with a smile.

I took a breath and dropped my eyes to my lap, "And now you're in love with me?"

"Look at me." He said but I couldn't. Despite the meaning behind his unspoken words, what if I was wrong?

His hands squeezed my thighs and he ducked his head, forcing me to look up at him. I lifted my eyes to his and they held the same look they did when he was making love to me in the garden.

"I am completely in love with you." He said, "And I have been for longer than you think. And I meant what I said; you don't have to say it back, not if you're not ready."

"Okay," I said with a nod.

"Okay," he echoed and then squeezed my thighs again. "What else?"

I huffed out a laugh. He knew me far too well. "You're not annoyed that I've been hiding up here?"

"No," he said with a laugh and stood in front of me, "What I'm annoyed about is that you haven't talked to me about this before. I want you to say anything to me, no matter how crazy or stupid or hurtful you think it might be. Anything, okay?"

"Anything," I agreed and let him pull me up to stand. "You're a little too perfect, do you know that?"

"Far from it, Granger," he brushed his lips over mine, "But I'll try my best."

He hadn't fucked me, like he'd promised. He had been slow and quiet and deliberate all over again, turning me into a loose-limbed puddle in his bed.

After my bathroom breakdown, he had made me laugh when he did indeed serve me up cereal and juice, with a promise that next time he would put me into a food coma. He had then taken my hand and walked me through his flat.

First the library, where his hand found its way beneath the hem of my t-shirt, And when he pressed me back against the bookshelves, his lips finding my neck and his fingers sliding inside me, the weight of our bathroom conversation left and I melted into him.

His art collection surprised me. I figured with his fortune there would be priceless works, but the small gallery he had set up was mostly drawings and pencil sketches, water colours and oils from unknown artists. He had explained that while it would be amazing to have a Van Gogh or Monet hanging in his home, he preferred to buy works that he was drawn to when visiting smaller galleries.

Then we were in his bed, where he pressed his lips to every inch of my skin, and then brought me over so many times I lost count.

And now I lay sprawled on my stomach across his bed, the moonlight seeping in through the windows and casting a silvery tinge across the room. A heaviness in my muscles the likes of which I had never felt before weighed me down as I listened to the steady pounding of the shower and cursing the fact that I didn't have the energy to get up and join him.

I allowed myself to smile. My own insecurities had gotten the better of my once more and I had been worried for nothing. Yes, it was good to have our teenage years out of the way, but I had been stupid to panic, to yet again let my over-analytical brain get in the way, instead of going with how I felt, how I knew he felt.

His eyes spoke volumes. Eyes that watched me intently, eyes that told me he only wanted to kiss me, that he only wanted to touch me, that he only wanted me. And the thought no longer terrified me, instead it made me dizzy. And dizzy hadn't been a sensation that I had felt with any man, ever.

I thought sex with Miles had been good. I thought that we'd made love. I thought he had taken his time, had been thoughtful and caring. But I was so incredibly wrong. Quick, impatient sex was now what I realised that we'd had. He'd never touched me like Draco had, with slow hands, exploring every inch of me. He never looked at me with eyes so hungry I thought I would be devoured.

I had never before felt the heavy ache, the want, the need I felt when Draco was hovering over me. He instinctively knew what I needed, when I needed him to move, when I needed him to slow down, when I needed him to dive deeper and cover me completely with his body.

I sighed, wriggling my toes and arching my back, and feeling the delicious ache stir between my thighs.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter from behind me and I lifted my head to look at him over my shoulder. His lower half was wrapped in a towel and his hair was sticking up every which way from being dried so nonchalantly. I noted the heated flare in his eyes, the tilt of his mouth as it curled into a devilish grin, the way his eyes roamed across my naked skin. And under that gaze I felt my skin flush and the ache between my thighs grew even heavier.

"Look at you," he said, crossing the room and running his hand over the curve of my hip. "Laying here like a goddess, just for me."

I hummed in response, loving the feel of his hand as it moved across my skin. He leaned down and kissed my shoulder, whispering, "I want you like this every night."

"I don't think I can move, so that won't be a problem." I told him, and reached out lazily to pull the towel from his waist. I let it drop to the floor, and then watched as he walked to the end of the bed, felt the mattress dip as he settled between my legs.

He kissed the back of my thigh, then the other, his hands moving to grip my arse, squeezing hard. I groaned and lifted my hips against his hands, wanting more. Wanting what he had promised.

I felt the press of his lips on my lower back, and in a torturous move, he kissed his way slowly along my spine, kissing each vertebrae while his hands snaked their way up my sides. Leaning into me - his chest pressing against my back, cock pressing even harder against my arse - he flicked his tongue over my ear. "It's about to get rough, Granger, and I want you loud and screaming."

My heart hammered in my chest - it was what he had promised me at the club; loud, screaming and rough. And when the music that he'd also promised began playing, I was lost.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked against the shell of my ear, "Is this your fantasy? Me fucking you while you hear his voice?"

I had fantasised about this, fantasised about him just taking me, but the voice I heard hadn't been that of the one currently filling the room. It had been the one of the man currently pressed against me, teasing me, whispering roughly into my ear.

"Draco," I murmured, closing my eyes. I could feel how wet I was, could feel an urgency creep into me as the weight of him lifted off me and his fingers dug into my hips. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted it rough and hard. I wanted to be hoarse from screaming his name.

Lifting me, he pulled me to my knees and slipped his fingers between my parted thighs, cursing when he pressed his thumb to where I was aching for him.

"You're drenched, Granger," his fingers flicked my clit and I groaned. "What have you been thinking about laying here all by yourself? Have you been thinking about me?" He pressed the tip of his thumb just inside me, "Have you been thinking about me sucking on this pretty pussy of yours?"

I shoved my hips back, forcing his thumb deeper inside me. But it wasn't enough. I need his cock inside me, filling me, stretching me, fucking me.

"Draco, please," I whined, "Please, I need more."

He pulled his thumb away and slapped my arse, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to my stinging skin. "Tell me what you need, Granger?" His voice was rough, his words vibrating on my skin.

Reaching back, I found him and ran my hand through his damp hair, "You," I breathed, "I need you."

"How do you need me?" He shifted, kissing his way back up my spine, biting down gently when he reached my shoulder. "Do you need me kissing you?" He brushed my hair aside and kissed the back of my neck. "Do you need me touching you?" He reached his hand around and squeezed my breast. "Tell me, Granger. What do you need?"

"I...need..." I choked on my words. I had imagined this so many times, him curled over me, heavy and hard between my legs, taking me from behind so I couldn't see, so I could only feel. But now, the heat of his skin on mine, the brush of his lips along my back, the feel of his hands gentle and rough at the same time, was more than I could take.

"Do you need me to fuck you?" He pressed another kiss between my shoulder blades, and I gasped as he shifted behind me so the tip of his cock slid across my clit. He rocked there, every slide of him across my wet skin sending a shock wave through me. I pushed my hips back, wanting him inside me, needing him hot and heavy and pulsing inside me.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Granger?" He asked again, "Is that what you want?"

"Y-yes," I stammered, gripping the sheets as he positioned himself to enter me. And then my breath caught, and an unintelligible sound burst from my throat when he finally inched inside.

"Do you know how amazing you look?" His own voice was tight, as if the feeling was as unexpected for him as it was for me. "Your hot little arse right here." His palm landed with a 'smack' on me again and I thought my heart might actually stop.

He was so thick, so fucking hard, and from this angle, so fucking deep. And, oh, I didn't know it could feel like this. The quick stabs of his hips bordering on pain, but a pain so delicious that it threatened to spiral me out of control before we'd even really started.

He dragged himself through me, slow and deep, touching that place that was bringing me closer and closer to the edge. This was nothing like the rough fucking he had promised, but nonetheless, I had to close my eyes against the intensity of it.

I felt his hand in my hair, twisting the strands around his fingers, holding me in place. His other hand dug roughly into my hip, spiking the pleasure-pain once more.

"Okay?" he asked, and I nodded, completely overwhelmed.

And then he started to move. Really move. Hard, ferocious thrusts that had the bed protesting beneath us. I felt the solid muscles in his legs hard against mine, felt the tap of his balls against my sensitive flesh, listened to the sound of our skin as it pressed together and parted repeatedly in a frantic rhythm. His breath was uneven, choppy, and my own pleasure increased with the sound of every tiny grunt that punctuated the air.

He'd made love to me, had taken his time, had made my pleasure a priority. But this time my pleasure was only on the periphery as he used my body to get what he needed. Taking, taking, until everything became a blur and all I could do was feel.

Heat settled in my stomach, and between my thighs, as he pushed into me again and again, pushing me closer and closer to the point where my body felt like it would shatter.

"Fucking look at you, Granger," he said in a voice so tight, so hoarse, that his words came out as a mumbled growl. "Letting me fuck you like this."

I groaned in response, unable to form words, and I imagined what we must have looked like; him behind me, holding me exactly where he wanted me. My arse in the air, my body shaking as he did exactly that; fucked me.

"Fucking incredible," he growled, loosening his grip on my hair and slipping both hands around my ribs, lifting me from the bed and pulling me flush against him. I groaned at the shift in position, groaned as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside me.

I felt him smile against my throat as my head dropped back to his shoulder, and I cried out when he pressed his teeth into my skin. I cried out again when his fingertips found my clit, sensitive and swollen, and my entire body shuddered when he pressed down hard.

Reaching back, I dug my hands into his hair and tugged hard, holding his mouth against me. Warmth spread down my spine, around my hips, to the place where his fingers were pressed and my entire body convulsed from the orgasm that pulsed through me. I screamed out his name, my voice cracking and leaving me gasping for air.

He held me against him, still driving into me, his breath hot and ragged against my skin. Sweat from his forehead dripped onto me, sliding over my chest and down between my breasts. This was good. He was good.

"So good, baby," he murmured as if reading my thoughts, and I felt his body tremble.

I reached down, covering his hand with mine, noting the way his breath changed, the way his grunts grew louder. His fingers were still moving over my clit, but his perfect rhythm, perfect pressure, was gone as his body went rigid behind me. His hands moved up to my breasts, gripping me hard. His thrusts became erratic and his voice was gravelly in my ear.

"Coming."

I closed my eyes, letting the pleasant buzz of his single word wash over me. I felt him pulse inside me, felt the warmth spill from him, heard the harsh groan as his head fell heavy onto my shoulder.

Several moments of silence stretched between us, our panting breaths the only sounds in the moonlit room. His hand dropped from my breast and ran gently along my thigh.

"Okay?" He asked, his voice was deep and the word sounded forced, as if right in that moment it was impossible for him to say more.

"Yeah," I whispered, my throat was dry and my own voice cracked. My legs ached, my hips were stiff and sore, my sweaty skin was cooling rapidly, and I knew if he let go of me I would collapse.

But he didn't let me go. He held me tighter, pressing sweet kisses along my shoulder, my throat. I turned my head and he caught my mouth, kissing me long and slow. When he pulled back I saw that same look on his eyes, the one that said I love you. I love only you.

He smiled, lowering me gently to the bed and I shivered when he pulled out of me. I was exhausted. My eyes closed and my body ached, but in the most blissful way. I felt the heat of his body as he lay beside me, and murmured my thanks when he pulled the covers over us.

He kissed my forehead and wound his naked body around me, and I heard him whisper I love you as I slipped into unconsciousness.

A/N:

Corey Taylor may have been playing in my own ears while I wrote this one..also a little bit of Halestorm and Dead By April.

Inspiration from my faves always helps :)