Author's Note: I'm not dead, just to let you guys know. I know I should apologise again, but I think it's implied with every update by now, don't you? I've included more Blaise and Theo, because like you, I miss them too. I'll probably have a lot more Gryffindor interactions and all the sorts next chapter, but for now, it's just the two protagonists actually getting somewhere with their almost-there-but-not-even-close-relationship. I hate giving spoilers at the beginning of the chapter, but honestly, how many of you even read my author's notes? I'm actually wondering if I've included too many Dramione scenes. Crazy, no? Why are you still reading this — if you are?

Read the chapter, 'tis good, I think.

Disclaimer: Nothing, but the plot of this story belongs to me. All characters and such, are owned by JKR.

Word Count: 4, 457. (I thought I'd be generous and make up for the wait.)

Warnings: Bad Language, Innuendoes, Slytherin Sex God Malfoy and all that implies - figure it out?

Chapter: (13) Progress.

Read&Review.

Yours truly,
- LiveLoveLaugh.

"What in the world."

Poppy Pomfrey walked into her Infirmary bright and early for a morning inspection. The students admitted there could have gotten worse, or slightly better overnight. It was her job to help them recover, or send them on their way so they wouldn't be bunking any lessons. What she never came across, however, was two people sleeping on the same bed, as if they'd done it for years.

So, really, you couldn't blame her for her outburst.

It apparently didn't wake either of them, and she had to pause to admire the way they looked so peaceful and innocent together like that. This generation of children, particularly, were thrown into adulthood way before their time. Loss of innocence was inevitable.

Draco stirred a little, pulling the girl beside him closer to snuggle against.

At that moment, the Healer's eyes registered and widened the face of the girl in the bed. Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Golden Girl, part of the Golden Trio - well, that was a lot of golds. Because it was her, and not some air-headed bimbo the young, unstable man had shagged on a whim, the older woman's eyes softened. This was truly something. They were fully dressed (she tipped a corner of the blanket back using her wand to check) and soundly in slumber.

Gryffindor Princess and Slytherin Prince.

It was something Rita Skeeter would paste across the first five pages of the Daily Prophet.

Poppy noticed the light streaming the window just above the sleeping 'couple', and muttered a few spells under her breath to have the curtains close themselves. It seemed to stop the young man from drifting in and out of consciousness, and let him go back to sleep.

Smiling and noting to herself not to blurt this walk-in to any other staff members, she turned and checked on the other patients before realising she was yet to check on the blond.

She practically tip-toed to his bed, contemplating whether or not to scan him with her wand. It would wake him up, and she didn't want to be there for that. Deciding that she had to do her job thoroughly, Poppy waved her wand over his form as quietly as she could.

Draco, as aware of his surroundings as ever, turned swiftly. The sounds of moving blankets filled the silent room.

He looked up at her blankly, then rubbed his eyes to clear his vision.

"It's alright. I'm just checking—"

"Madame Pomfrey, I know what this looks—"

At the use of her formal name, she laughed slightly, placing a hand on the young boy's shoulder. He must have thought he was in trouble. "I know. Go back to sleep, I'm just checking your vitals one last time before heading out."

He nodded shortly, interrupted when Hermione turned in the bed, outstretched her arm to grab his shirt, and pulled him back to the warmth in the middle of the bed. All whilst asleep.

Draco's betraying body actually made him blush.

Poppy Pomfrey smiled all the way to her chambers.

Draco awoke to the soft curves of a woman pressed against his front.

His eyes blinked open, struggling to adjust to the light at first. His vision cleared quickly, and the first image that filled his line of sight was the sleeping form of the girl he'd been pursuing for the last few weeks. But the thing was, she was not just 'the girl he'd been pursuing'. Especially now, as she lay fully clothed and sound asleep with no intent of grabbing her lingerie up off the floor and leaving him be with a 'good fucking'.

He remembered kissing her. Kissing her like his sanity depended on it. He had an inkling that maybe, it did.

He briefly wondered if she was the only girl he'd ever slept with, without actually sleeping with.

Swallowing, as Draco's mouth was as dry as sandpaper for Merlin's sake, he shifted his position. Only then, did he realise that his arm was draped across her smooth hip, holding her to him.

A tug later, another fact came to his realisation. Their fingers were entwined and their palms pressed against each other's; making it practically impossible for him to pull their hands apart without waking her.

And, he didn't want to wake her.

But, now that he thought about it: he didn't want to flee either. Distinctly wondering how their hands came to that position, he nuzzled closer to the comfort he felt as he drifted out of subconsciousness. His nose buried into the voluptuous curls of her hair, silently praying she wouldn't spring awake and hex him terribly. His mind stopped working when she shivered slightly, pulling the covers up further and pressing herself against him even more so for warmth.

Fuck thinking.

"Mate, the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Theo looked up, zipping up his pants. "What."

Blaise had his hands up in front of him, in a half-shrug. His boxers were the only garment he'd chosen to sport. "You know what."

Pulling on his oxford and proceeding to button it down, Theo rolled his eyes.

"No," He corrected in quite the condescending tone, mentally patting his back for it. "I don't believe I do."

"Stop acting innocent, you son of a bitch." He accused, pointing a finger at his once-friend standing opposite him.

Tie: Loop, pull, slip through the hole, then pull and tighten.

"If it's your time of the month, Blaise, just say so." Theo shrugged, smirking at the way the Italian snarled. "I don't think I have time for you to manstruate so early in the morning."

There was silence for ten seconds, making Theo glad. His head was throbbing and it wasn't even due to a hangover - the only time he would accept the pain.

"You flirted with Lovegood yesterday."

Theo burst into laughter, dropping onto the foot of the bed. "Wait, what?"

The guy finally decided to put some pants on, as Theo waved his wand to polish his own shoes and hair.

"I don't know what game you're playing, but I saw you."

"Right ... doing what, exactly?"

"Flirting!"

"With Lovegood? Are you mental?"

"Don't talk about her like that."

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, deciding to stop poking Blaise with a stick. "Alright, alright. I admit, I ... did charm her pants off."

Blaise plucked up his wand, making Theo reel back and lift his palms up in surrender.

"Theoretically! Metaphorically! Merlin."

He raised an eyebrow, expecting an explanation.

"I was trying to get some information on the Red, okay? Does that satisfy you, you fuckwit?"

"You mean ... you fancy Weasley?" The bastard had the nerve to smirk.

"Well the bird, yes." Theo almost blushed at her image popping up in his mind.

"Awh, Theo-weo has a wittle cwushy-wushy."

"Don't." Theo growled as his friend finally put on some clothes in a hurry. "Besides, I have some questions on this obsession you seem to have on Loony."

Blaise set his jaw. "Keep them to yourself."

"Why? Have I hit a nervy-wervy?"

They smirked at each other.

"Fair enough. Did you ask her to Hogsmeade, then?"

"I might've." He replied, a little shyly.

"And?" Blaise raised an eyebrow in amusement. If the guy wasn't gloating, it obviously didn't go well. He briefly wondered why he hadn't asked Luna out as yet. Maybe it was that he hadn't really spoken to her, if sex-eyes and flirty comments didn't count.

"I don't know."

"So was it a slap, or did she knee you in the balls?"

A pillow was thrown.

"Piss off."

Another one, bouncing off the top of Blaise's head.

"Wait, wait."

Theo halted, holding a paperweight as ammo mid-air.

"Where the fuck is Draco?"

"I have to go."

Hermione's voice was barely a whisper as she told him.

The back of her mind registered the day, and thanked God it was Saturday. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks and paint them probably the darkest shade of red; just trust her body to expose her deepest feelings point blank. Even though he was sleeping, the chance that he would awaken to her flushed face, would embarrass her to no ends – though why she cared, she refused to believe.

Maybe she had watched him sleep for longer than one could deem sane?

The clichés that swam through her mind at the sight of his sleeping form, almost made the feminist cringe. But, Merlin help her, he ticked all the boxes.

His body was turned towards her, giving her a clear view of him. The thumb of the hand slipped under her top and draped over her hip slowly drew small circles onto the skin. Tingles practically shot from his fingers and ran up her spinal cord at the affectionate, yet sensual gesture. Their legs were entangled and she couldn't think of somewhere else she'd rather be.

She wasn't even supposed to have stayed the night. With him. In the same bed.

So when she spoke to him, Hermione expected a lack of reaction, which she would take advantage of and run, even though she didn't really want to.

Instead, he made her jump by shifting closer up against her, and burying his head into her hair.

Whispers were muttered against her ear. "No you don't."

She briefly wondered why she was surprised. "Damn it, Malfoy. Don't scare me like that."

He pulled back slightly, smirking when he noticed her wide eyes and gaping face. "It's Malfoy now, is it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, pushing him away with a badly hidden smile. "It's not like you ever call me Hermione."

She pulled herself up to a sitting position while he just propped his head on his hand, watching her unabashedly.

"Her-mio-ne." He said slowly, rolling the name over his tongue in a way which made her shiver.

"Stop." She said half-heartedly, still not comprehending the relationship they had.

"Hermione."

"Will you—"

"Hermione."

"For Godric's sake—" She rolled out of the covers, standing and brushing herself off.

"Hermione." He called, urgently this time.

She huffed, exasperated. "Yes?"

"Come back to bed."

Her heart did sharp acrobatics at his words. "Excuse me?" Her voice came out strained and small.

The way he made it feel like they were fucking together; it excited and unnerved her.

He sighed, deciding to take the logical approach to get her to stay. "Leaving in broad daylight to the crowds of people who will notice your night clothes and probably—if even remotely clever, make the link between me residing in this bored-to-deathbed? Bad move."

She wordlessly sat back down, rolling her eyes. He smirked, but said nothing, much to her relief.

Her face clearly showed the thoughts running through her head. And, as usual, there were many. Most of them consisted of questions regarding his health, his well being, as she inwardly cared too much.

He let his head drop back onto the pillow, before taking a deep breath and exhaling. "Go on. Ask."

"I wasn't—"

He only shot her a knowing look, to which she replied by smiling sheepishly and biting her lip out of habit. His mind was suddenly clouded with memories of their intimate kiss. He was out of his mind when he did it. It wasn't like he had a death wish. It was that she was there, and she was real.

Shit. Why did I kiss her?

"Do they come often, the nightmares?"

"...Yes. Almost every night. I just—I can handle them, usually. I don't know what happened last night."

"What did you see?"

"The same girl. She was dying—no, being killed. By them. By...us."

He pulled up his forearm to her line of sight. The Dark Mark staring at her made her gasp and her eyes bulge.

His eyes steeled irrationally. "Maybe you should go."

"No!" She suddenly disagreed, leaping forward to take his arm and pull it gently towards her lap. "No, I didn't—I didn't mean—I'm so sorry. I've just seen it on...others."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she starting running her fingers over the thick swirling lines so evident on his pale skin. The skull seemed to glare up at her, but she paid it no attention, teased it even, by tracing a cross over it's head. She gently, tentatively dragged the tips of her fingers down the marked skin. It was smooth, however. No ridges or bumps which she expected.

Draco's breath was coming hard and fast, unable to control his own body. Nobody had ever touched his mark. Nobody.

He didn't know it would feel so good when someone did.

"You stopped running." She whispered almost inaudibly, not looking up at him as her fingers continued their ministrations. She swiped the pad of her thumb over the whole thing, and he tried not to groan at the pleasure burning through his veins. He gripped her arm below her elbow to stop himself from practically growling out loud. She wasn't fazed, only looked down at the tattoo with interest.

Because of this. I kissed her because she is just this.

Her hair curtained her face, falling down around her and the ends tickling his skin.

She dipped her head down, and the moment her lips touched the sensitive, damaged skin, he was tipped over the edge.

He growled, literally growled, pulling her up and into a laying position on the bed, with his body pressed above hers, their faces inches away.

Her heart hammered in her chest, waiting for him to engulf her in a deep, long-awaited kiss.

He didn't, quite as yet. He instead slipped his hand down the arm by her side, finding her hand and bringing her arm up to bend at the elbow. He laced his fingers through hers, watching her reaction to this intimate possessiveness.

Hermione exhaled shakily, her head turned to see their intertwined fingers, unnerved by the feeling of his cool fingers between hers. Her lips twitched into a smile she couldn't control.

"Can you stop running?" He murmured to her.

She was about to nod, about to reach up and bring his head down the last few inches, but she didn't have the chance.

"Eh em."

Hermione gasped whilst Draco merely sighed and rolled off of her, unlinking their fingers.

Madame Pomfrey looked a mixture of amused and confused on whether or not to punish them for the compromising position.

Hermione didn't give her the opportunity to decide, as she leapt off the bed and muttered a 'I'm so sorry, it wasn't what it looked like' before darting out of the room.

"Before you start," Draco held his hands up in surrender. "—it was all me. She was...Granger wasn't at fault."

Granger, hmm?

Pomfrey shook her head, walking past him to the next bed to turn down the covers. "You are lucky you're cute. Now, please leave my Infirmary before you scar some first years."

One thing he didn't miss during his time in the hell hole: Parkinson.

Especially as she ran up to him the moment he stepped into the Slytherin Common Room, squeezing him tightly. Her smell, the one of extreme perfume use, choked him. He let her have a few short moments of glory, before lifting his arms and pushing her away quickly. Not hard, as he wasn't in a bad mood after...her.

"Oh my God, Drakie. I missed you so much."

All he could think about was the curve of Hermione's lips, the softness of her skin. How close he was to kissing her again. And again. And again.

So when he actually smirked at her, Pansy was shell-shocked. "That's great, Parkinson. See you around."

His shirt sleeve was down, so no one could really see the unmasked tattoo. He didn't want the Slytherins to act like it was a cool thing to have the curse, like it was actually impressive. It was a burden, a horrifying part of him, but he was tired of pretending to be someone he wasn't. Even if he was no longer the cold, wannabe' Death Eater he was years ago, he couldn't stand hiding from his past any longer. It wouldn't be something he'd flaunt. He'd hide it most of the time, but not because it wasn't there. He wanted people to know it was there, but also know that it didn't matter. But, he'd rather not watch most people run away, so keeping it there for him to remember and never go down the path again, but out of plain site — was the best option.

"Well, fucking finally."

He entered his dormitory to see his two friends smirking at him smugly.

"Missed me?" He flashed a very Malfoy smile, sliding a hand into his pocket.

"Someone looks...happy?" Theo said his thoughts out loud, the last word of the sentence coming out as an almost exclamation of surprise.

"Is it that hard to believe?"

"Yes, actually." Blaise told him. "You don't do happy."

"I do satisfied."

"No, no, no." Blaise panicked, jumping to conclusions. "You can't have slept with her. I swear to Salazar, you man-slut, how the fuck did you sleep with Granger, already? I thought she was all pure and shit—"

Draco's jaw clenched. "She is. I didn't fuck her, you idiot. She's not bloody like that, alright?"

Theo smirked at his cold, warning tone while Blaise just gaped in surprise.

Draco soon realised how that might have sounded and tried to play it off. He masked his sudden, baseless anger over with dickhead-edness. "I mean, she's a prude. Frigid. No one would want to fuck someone so inexperienced, any way."

Nice going, Draco.

Two days later, Draco and Hermione both sat in the library, revising for an upcoming test.

It was coincidence that they ended up going there at the same time, when no one else loitered around. It was only logical to take the same table, whatever feelings they pretended not to have for each other. They didn't speak, didn't talk, but only sat in oddly comfortable silence.

They did, however keep sneaking glances at each other; Draco not blushing every time he got caught staring, however. She wondered if he did it on purpose — let her catch him rake his eyes across her. He was too intrigued with the image of her concentrating hard on something, well, trying. It was hard with his sexiness distracting her constantly.

Feeling the sudden need to tease her, he reached out to grab the book her arm was outstretched to take. Their fingers met on the medium-sized hardback, and he held hers down before she could pull them back. His gentle, dexterous fingers waltzed down her hand, reaching the inside of her wrist, a sensitive patch of skin.

"If you want to touch me, Granger;" He spoke in that velvety, smooth voice that made a shiver run up her spine. "—just touch me."

When her voice came back to her, she tore her eyes away from his dark, lustrous ones and to the book she was meant to be reading. "Why would I want to touch you, Malfoy?"

He set his jaw and made her realise that she actually missed his touch when he released his hold on her wrist.

"If that's how it is." He said in an indifferent voice, so unlike his tone before. He went back to his work, not paying her any more attention.

She'd snap, he knew it.

"Fuck it." Hermione said suddenly, making Draco look up from the book he was leafing through.

He looked around a little, surprised at her outburst. There was no one, however, at the library but them — allowing her curse words to hit only his ears.

"I don't—."

She reached over the table and gripped the silk of his tie tightly. The sudden forced movement had him standing up and over, his palms swiftly bracing the table so balance wouldn't become an issue.

Her lips stopped his mid-smirk; her free hand dragging short nails over his scalp whilst the other continued to pull him closer by the tie. He couldn't help but smile triumphantly into the kiss, knowing he'd won their little game. She really didn't care who had won, as she felt quite victorious at the moment.

When she detached herself from the tender, gentle kiss; a smile pulled the corners of her lips upwards into a smile.

"Don't start."

"I didn't even say anything." His gaze smouldered her, his hot breath blowing onto her face and brushing some hair out of her face.

"You were thinking it." She retorted, releasing her hold on the garment.

"Actually," He pointed out, dodging around the table and then catching her hand in his before pulling her flush against him. He had her against the table within seconds. "I was thinking. Damn, Granger. What—," His head dipped his lips brushed momentarily against the corner of her mouth. He did it slowly, purposely, taking his time.

He'd pulled back an inch, murmuring sensually against her lips. "—do you do to me." It wasn't a question, a thought, statement to himself.

She shivered, because Merlin help her, pleasure burned through her veins.

"What?" Hermione whispered back, knowing this was just another one of his lines, the ones that made the girls swoon and drop their pants without a second thought. She wouldn't be one of those girls, would she? No. She felt herself tense.

"You...just, ruined everything." He informed her, clutching the edge of the table with his hands on either side of her so she wouldn't take it the wrong way and try to escape. She definitely knew that wasn't one of his lines; if it was, it'd be insulting, if anything.

She found herself repeating his previous, surprised words. "I don't—."

And similar to last time, he interrupted her, though not with a kiss. He pressed his torso against hers, stopping her words in a choke of breath. He skimmed his fingers down her sides and she instinctively relaxed.

He continued. "I don't know how you did it. Just walked into my life." A break to laugh softly, shortly. "Everything I thought, everything I was taught to believe in, you fucked it up. I thought I had you all figured out, though." He went on to say. "You were the only girl in the whole school that didn't fancy me." His fingers brushed her collarbone, making her breath hitch evidently. She chose not to point out that there was a small part of her that appreciated his hotness from time to time, or that he was being an egotistical prat.

Was he blaming her for something? No, his voice was too sincere, too passionate.

"And I just—I wanted you—want, you."

Hermione's heart stopped all together, then.

"Gods, I can't think with you in my head all the time. All the fucking time. Those little sounds you make when I touch you, when I kiss you—they make me crazy."

She didn't want anything more than to prove him right and let herself get lost in his burning heat.

"So, Granger, do you know what you do to me?"

She shook her head no.

"You drive me insane."

The collision of lips in the flurry of arms and fingers warmed Draco to his toes. Her hands were in his hair, his resting on her waist as if they belonged. Her tongue was in his mouth before he could react, which he did nonetheless. Her mouth swallowed the soft moan he breathed, returning hot breaths into the air every time their lips parted before reconnecting barely a moment later. Her hands moved to grip his shirt, instead of his tie, to pull him closer. His mouth slanted over hers quite intimately, comfortably.

It's need and passion and want that drives the kiss to delve into the depths, with their teeth clanging and tongues clashing. It wasn't like she would let him have all the satisfaction, even if she thought he deserved it after that speech. Even with his talented, thrusting tongue, she had to fight back and prove her...well, her Gryffindor-ness.

His brain was everywhere and he couldn't grasp a coherent thought, but it's not like he actually gave a fuck about thinking, any more. She let out a shaky breath, making him smirk into her mouth. She slapped his upper arm almost instantly. Eventually, the short intakes and releases of breath they had mustered through the movement of tilting their heads, or breaking a kiss to begin another, was not enough. They break away, breathing heavily from the hungry kiss.

The previously static air calmed into a gentle buzz caused by the change in emotions.

Draco gave her a slow smile, and the cutest dimple appeared on his cheek.

Cute, and Malfoy?; she thought absently, feeling herself mentally note the position and adorableness of the dimple.

He pressed his forehead against hers, softly breathing against her face, warming and cooling her instantaneously. She loosened her hold around his neck, but kept her palms on his skin, melting into the embrace.

She didn't realise when her eyes fluttered close again but she felt the world stop. Just stopped and stood still. It was strange, and new, and welcomed.

"I don't know whether to be pleased or angry at that." She whispered, lightly tracing his jaws with her fingertip.

"Angry. You're bloody hot when you're angry."

Her cheeks are quickly painted with ten hues of red. His heart leaped. It was even better when she blushed like that. He dragged the pad of his forefinger down her blushing cheek, stroking the skin gently and letting her know the genuineness of his words.

Not taking into the account the moment or their position, she blurted out. "Do you think it's almost curfew?"

"It wasn't at the forefront of my mind."

Hermione laughed, pulling away from his embrace and gathering some books into a neat pile on the table. She heard his sigh of defeat, making her smile as she tidied up. She didn't realise when their huge relationship alteration became comfortable with her.

Wait. What relationship? They didn't have a relationship. No, that was absurd.

"Oh, come on, Granger. You can't seriously be thinking about rules right now." He came up behind her, wanting those lips back on his.

"I'm always thinking about rules, Malfoy."

"When I'm blowing your mind, you shouldn't be."

She scoffed. "Please. I blew your mind."

He smirked into her hair, spinning her around and running his nose down her jaw before stopping at the skin below her ear he later went onto kiss. "That, you did." He whispered into her ear huskily, making her realise that if she didn't leave at the moment, she would never.

"Harry and Ron are probably worrying."

"Fuck them."

"They're my friends."

"See previous advice."

"Godric, you're insufferable." She said half-heartedly, her heart too over-joyed to feel anger. Hermione grabbed her bag and started walking away.

"Didn't seem so insufferable when my tongue was down your throat." He pointed out loudly, making her flush and walk away quicker.

He watched her leave, unable to contain his smile.

Early the next morning, Theo tried to sneak back into the room.

It was too early for either of his room-mates to be up, and he was pretty agile—if he said so himself.

Unfortunately for him, Draco was the lightest sleeper known to mankind.

"Long night?" He asked as the other boy closed the door quietly behind him.

Theo jumped a little. "Gods, Malfoy." He breathed. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing. I'm the perfect specimen."

"Oh, ha-ha."

"Blaise told me about your new stalk-ee. Weaslette? It's not happening, mate."

"And Granger is?" Theo retorted. "Off limits is exciting. Admit it."

"I didn't say it wasn't." He said. "I'm just warning you, Pothead may have an aneurysm." Draco paused. "On second thought, I'm with you."

"Go to sleep, you tosser."

"Eh."

Five minutes later, Draco spoke up again. "Hey, Theo?"

"..Mmph?"

"I—shit. I like her."

Of course you do, you stupid insomniac. Oh no. I've become one of those writers.

R-e-v-i-e-w.