A/N: We are ever grateful for the beautiful reception we receive with every update, you guys are really the best. The Harry Potter world belongs to JKR, the idea behind this story belongs to White Bishop along with the amazing edits for each and every chapter and beautiful suggestions that keeps this story interesting. I'm having a great time collaborating with you and I'm very thankful for this opportunity.

Something Brewing

"Pay close attention to the steadiness of his hands, my dear students. Notice the purposeful movement, that is the standard you've got to aim for. Carelessness while brewing or preparing your materials can be the difference between brewing a notoriously difficult potion like Draught of Living Death and making a lethal poison."

Draco's irritation grew as his former professor continued to brag about his 'Remarkable Former Student' while ignoring the obvious discomfort Draco's mere presence was creating in the classroom.

"Only a few potioneers ever develop the kind of skills Mr. Malfoy has cultivated. Potion making requires great discipline, but it is also an art. Although his performance didn't reflect it at the time; I'm proud to say Draco has grown into one of the most talented potioneers I've ever had the pleasure to teach." Slughorn spoke with pride, but still acknowledged the difficulties Draco had after Snape had left the position of potions professor.

"What about Hermione Granger?" a student suddenly asked causing Draco's eye to twitch involuntarily. Why was it that he was always compared to Granger when it came to academic performance?

"Yes, Ms. Granger is quite the exceptional muggle-born. Unfortunately, it's my understanding that she's chosen a different path; but, I'm sure she'll find success regardless of what path she's chosen to follow." It was obvious in the aged professor's tone that he believed that Hermione Granger hadn't yet achieved the kind of notoriety and influence expected of Slug Club alumni. Perhaps once her house elf legislation was approved by the Wizengamot that would change.

"I'm sure you've all read about Gemma Farley's efforts with Wolfsbane potion," Slughorn continued, "You see, before she began work at St. Mungo's she consulted with both Mr. Malfoy and myself to better to help understand how she could refine her brewing methods."

As the Malfoy heir transferred leech juice into smaller phials for the students to use later, he couldn't help rolling his eyes at his former professor's assertion. In truth, Draco hadn't intended to help Farley but had simply stumbled into her consultation meeting with the old Potions Master and offered his insight. It was ironic that his former professor spoke so fondly of two people whose families had been so closely associated with the Dark Lord's regime. It wasn't that long ago that both Theo and Draco had been denied an invitation to the Slug Club for such familial affiliations, despite both being more talented than Zabini and better connected than McLaggen.

Draco couldn't help but wonder if even this offer of an apprenticeship was only because of the interference of his Gryffindor girlfriend. Before his association with the meddlesome bookworm, Slughorn had always maintained a level of professional detachment. Now it seemed as if old Sluggy was more than happy to praise his accomplishments publicly, pretending as if they had been close for years.

"Using preserved leech juice instead of fresh juice is actually one of Mr. Malfoy's more recent discoveries, you know. I was quite surprised that such a simple substitution, nearly doubled the time it takes before the potion spoils."

The young Malfoy mostly ignored the students in Slughorn's class who unabashedly stared, focusing instead on prepping the potion ingredients in front of him. He should've realized that the old professor would drag him into class to perform a demonstration. After the abrupt offer from the Headmistress at Potter's wedding, Slughorn had taken every opportunity to try to convince Draco to take up the apprenticeship.

"Chop chop everyone. The instructions are on the board and the ingredients are on the table."

As the students scampered to the front to grab the ingredients Draco had prepared, his thoughts ran back towards Hermione and their unusual meeting in the morning. Perhaps he should've stayed with her instead of heading here to give Slughorn samples of his latest experiments. It certainly would have been more enjoyable than being paraded around in front of children. His eyes fell on the carefully snipped wormwood and Draco lifted one of the sprigs with his fingers and examined the oddly familiar tool marks.

"What is it, my boy? What's got you so puzzled about that herb." Slughorn asked infusing the same herb into the simmering concoction in the small cauldron on his desk.

"It's nothing Professor, I just realized Longbottom collected them," Draco said placing the herb back down.

"How could you know that? It could have been any of Professor Sprout's students." Slughorn raised an eyebrow in obvious appreciation.

"No, I spent seven years with Longbottom. He's got a unique quirk in how he uses his shears. There's a slight twist to his wrist that leaves a barely noticeable mark behind. Honestly, it's probably why he was able to use the Sword of Gryffindor so effectively," Draco said with a smirk. Since the end of the war, the Malfoy and Longbottom heirs had developed a professional understanding. While they would likely never become friends, Neville's talent for Herbology had proven surprisingly helpful in acquiring high-quality herbs not kept in the Manor's greenhouse.

"Amazing Draco, it's no wonder you're such a skilled potioneer."

"Awareness of one's surroundings is key to survival, every Slytherin knows that." Draco subtly dismissed the boastful professor's words, as a wave of hushed whispers reached his ears.

"Yes, but not every Slytherin chooses to be so meticulous. It's a particular trait you seem to share with young Mr. Nott."

"I wasn't aware you held an interest in Theo, Professor," Draco asked raising one eyebrow. It was indeed a surprise that Slughorn not only claimed Draco as one of his prized pupils, but he also acknowledged Theo's abilities.

"Interest?! No, no. I simply appreciate uniquely skilled people, you know."

"...Should be in Azkaban, Death Eater scum." Draco's ears picked up the hushed whispers of a few students and cast a questioning eye towards the group. The old professor either had chosen to ignore it or might've been too hard of hearing to pick up the student's insult.

"I'll leave you to it then, Draco." The Malfoy heir nodded as the professor cleared his throat and excused himself into his stores leaving Draco to oversee the students.

It wasn't until the elder wizard cleared his throat that Draco realized the truth. Slughorn hadn't ignored the student's barb, and he wasn't deaf; he was a Slytherin. The clever professor had left the classroom to allow Draco to handle the situation, without risking a confrontation or needing to use any of his authority to deduct house points.

Draco eyes quickly scanned the students gathered, most of them were busy with their potion, except for a group seated in the front. His gaze fell on a boy in red and gold robes who raised his chin as a challenge. It was easy to guess who was behind those whispers.

Slughorn had given him the freedom to act, however, the boy in front of him was only a third year. The difference in age made things more problematic and limited Draco's options. If the circumstances were different, the Malfoy Heir would have systematically, destroyed the young man's confidence with a mixture of veiled threats, insults, and manipulations. Unfortunately, putting the young mouthy Gryffindor in his place would require a bit of effort. With a cursory glance at the boy's cauldron and the ingredients set out on the table; Draco realized how best to teach this 'lesson'. He would make sure the boy would never dream of insulting a Malfoy again.

He waited with patience as the end of the hour approached. Most of the students were able to produce the expected results, except perhaps for the foolish group of Gryffindors. While instructing the students to bottle up their results, he addressed the class directly. "I'm curious, has Professor Slughorn taught you lot about some of the unique properties of Wormwood?"

There were murmurs of 'bitter' and 'ancient herb', and Draco couldn't help but smirk as he noted a pair of Ravenclaw girls with hands eagerly raised ready to answer. It reminded him of a time not so long ago, when Hermione Granger would never miss a chance to show off her knowledge. Were it not for his Lioness' temperament, she'd have roosted quite comfortably amongst the eagles of Ravenclaw.

"Some of you obviously know," Draco said throwing an appreciative look towards the Ravenclaw girls who remained far more respectful than Granger ever managed to be. "However, if you expect a brew an effective potion it helps to know as much about the ingredients as possible. For example," he picked up the herb and walked towards the tables. "What would happen if you dropped wormwood into a finished potion?" he gently lowered the sprig into an almost perfect shrinking solution. "Nothing," he said theatrically,"It remains unchanged." He then moved to the group of Gryffindors who were looking at him with a look of apprehension. "But when you drop it into an unfinished one," he said and looked at the boy who made the comment. "Do you know what's going to happen?"

There were murmurs of explosion from the other side of the class.

"Mine's not unfinished!" The Gryffindor boy said defensively, flaring his nostrils. "I think you don't know anything about potions. I bet a Death Eater like you, is as worthless as a flobberworm," the boy said in a shaky tone. The whole class fell into a pin drop silence.

"Careful boy, if your professor hadn't left this class in my care; Gryffindor might have lost quite a few house points for that." There was an unmistakable sinister edge to his tone, as he rolled up his sleeves exposing his faded mark. Although Draco didn't delight in reminding others of his dark past, sometimes it had its uses. Fear was sometimes just as effective at controlling people as respect.

Amidst all the chaos, Draco's expression remained unchanged. "Are you sure you've brewed this potion properly? Well, let's find out if that confidence is misplaced shall we?" Without giving him a chance to react, Draco dropped the leaf into the solution. The boy's eyes went wide in a comical fashion, but nothing happened. "It would seem I don't know quite as much as I thought," Draco added before walking back to the front of the classroom.

The young Gryffindor's sense of self-satisfaction ended the moment his cauldron suddenly started to bubble violently. The potion's sudden explosion covered the young third year in the evidence of his own failure. Once the smoke cleared, the young man's skin, hair, and clothes were stained acid green.

"Are you alright boy? You look a bit green." Draco drawled, causing the whole class to burst into laughter. "Let that be a lesson to you all. Self-discipline is important not only when brewing potions but also in preventing oneself from looking like an utter fool."

Draco stepped out of the dungeons with a skip in his step after bidding farewell to Professor Slughorn. The look on that little git's face was worth it, he'd underestimated Draco thinking that the Malfoy heir was ashamed of the brand on his arm. Although Draco hated that he would bear the stigma of the Dark Lord's mark for the rest of his days, he wasn't ashamed. He'd taken it to protect his family, the mark did not dictate who he was, it only told the tale of who he had been.

Walking the halls of his former school again felt odd. This place held many memories, some to be treasured, while others were best forgotten. Potions, Quidditch, Granger...

"Bugger me," Draco ground out as he checked his pocket watch. Dealing with Slughorn had taken far more time than it should have. He was supposed to be courting Granger today, not teaching a bloody class then debating the value of using crushed knarl quills to substitute for daisies as a potion ingredient. The old fool was too set in his ways and they'd argued for over an hour on the merits of such a substitution. The time to head down to the kitchens to have breakfast with Granger had long since passed, which begged the question. Where in Hogwarts would he find his ever righteous Gryffindor? It was unlikely that she'd be troubling the elves, as they were likely hard at work preparing for lunch. This left only one place; the one place in the entirety of Hogwarts where one could reliably find Hermione Granger.

He wasn't surprised when he found her in the Library, occupying the same table she'd used during their time as students.

"You know when I asked you to accompany me today. I was expecting that we'd actually spend some time together," she said without lifting her head from the tome in front of her.

"You were a member of his 'Slug Club', you should know better than most that we're lucky I managed to escape at all."

Hermione could only snicker at Draco's assertion. "I suppose that means you've done a good job at redeeming your family name, doesn't it? Professor Slughorn isn't known to bother associating with people who lack influence or at least potential."

"I see you're putting extra effort in composing that list of unacceptable favors you promised me," he drawled changing the subject and taking the chair beside her. "Be sure to give it some serious thought, Granger. Wouldn't want to leave something out and give me an opportunity to ask for something uncharacteristically lecherous."

"You wish!" She said raising her chin, with a mischievous smile dancing on her lips.

When Draco tried to sneak a peek at Hermione's list, she shifted to obstruct his view. "Nice try, Draco. I'm afraid you'll have to be a good boy and wait until I'm finished."

"Oh, Granger that's no fun," he tutted slightly shaking his head. "Besides, you can't hide anything from me."

"Really? Should I just walk around starkers then?" She said, making Draco blush.

"Someone's being rather cheeky today," Draco offered, as he relaxed into his chair. "What's with all these books? Did the Hogwarts elves assign you school work after breakfast or have you decided to enroll as a student again?" He said glancing at the plethora of books spread out in front of her.

"Just a bit of a light reading," she said with a casual shrug of her shoulders. "I couldn't get much done with the elves this morning, they were rather busy." She bit her lip, giving a thoughtful look at the quill and parchment in her hand. "So I thought it best to prepare a bit more before meeting them. There is this one particular elf, I've been trying to talk to."

Amongst the pile of books Hermione had taken out, one particular tome caught Draco's eye. Reaching out to pick it up he took note of the title. "Pureblood Praxis: for Muggles and Muggle-borns" he read the odd title and quirked an eyebrow at her. "By Phineas Black," said Draco trying to recollect the name that sounded vaguely familiar. "Where did you find this? I doubt something like this would have come from the Black Library," Draco added as he continued to examine the book.

"In the corners of the restricted section. I was looking for anything that would help me in constructing stronger arguments to persuade the Wizengamot. That's when I came across this. It was lying completely unattended in one of the corners with layers of dust piled on it. Honestly, I wouldn't have bothered, but you've gotten me curious about pureblood customs." She looked at the book with a thoughtful gaze. "At first, I thought it was written by former headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black, but based on my experiences with his portrait I doubt that's the case."

"You're right, this book must have been written by his son," Draco said finally remembering the name. "No wonder he was disowned. It's bad enough that he supported muggle rights but writing this would have been unforgivable back then."

"Oh, well that just makes me want to read it all the more. It might actually help me understand more about pureblood traditions," she said reaching out for the book.

"Is my knowledge not good enough for you?" Draco asked getting apprehensive and holding the book beyond her reach. "At least let me read it first to see if the information is accurate." He knew this book could likely cause more problems that he was prepared to deal with at the moment. The only reason a book like this would be kept in the restricted section was that it dealt with topics that were controversial. If Phineas had felt vindictive over being disowned by his pureblood family, then this book would likely contain the kind of information that might prevent Granger from seeing any value in Pureblood traditions.

"Fine, I'm still making notes on interesting cases handled by the Wizenagamot, but once I'm done with that, I'm going to want to read that book," she said moving to last of the pages of the book in front of her.

"I suppose that's reasonable. Although, I'll admit I'm a bit saddened to learn that your idea of spending time with me involves the two of us silently reading. Aren't you Gryffindors supposed to be more adventurous?" Draco hoped this indirect challenge would keep Hermione from focusing on his disowned relative's book.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with reading," she argued. "How would you rather we spend the afternoon, Mr. Malfoy? Perhaps, a walk around the Black Lake?" Draco shrugged his shoulders lazily. "Maybe a drink at three broomsticks?" Looking at his bored expression she leaned closer and whispered. "Or perhaps some debaucherous activity in the Library?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at her and spoke with a devilish smirk dancing on his lips. "Debauchery without question. However, something tells me that even a brave Gryffindor such as you Ms. Granger isn't that bold."

"Why? Do you think I'm afraid of a little exhibitionism?" She challenged, stunning the Malfoy heir.

"Enough. As much as you're willing to pretend, I doubt you'd want me ravishing you here and now." Draco was shocked by just how far Hermione was willing to escalate things. "What exactly did you eat in the kitchens this morning? I have to wonder if one of the elves slipped something into your food," she rolled her eyes and reached for the book in his hands.

Draco quickly slammed the book down on the table pinning it underneath his hand. "Nice try Hermione. Unfortunately, you're forgetting that I'm a Slytherin who endured tales of Zabini's lustful exploits for years. It takes more than a little salaciousness to distract me. Perhaps next time you should try a bit harder." Despite his words, Draco hadn't been expecting Hermione's bold attempt. He was scared by how easily she distracted him. Thankfully, his seeker skills had prevented his distraction from being far more costly, but the thought of her pressed against this table moaning his name in ecstasy between the shelves filled with books lingered.

"You win this time Draco. Perhaps next time I'll try it without a skirt on," she offered cheekily.

After a few moments of silence, Hermione returned to work and Draco began perusing the contents of Pureblood Praxis. Overall, the book's contents weren't as dangerous as Draco predicted. Mostly just explanations of the origin of certain pureblood customs tailored for muggle and muggle-born readers. The chapter on the dark and bloody history of Magical Matching was problematic, but it could also be useful in case Granger discovered the hidden purpose of this relationship. After all, Draco's methods thus far weren't even close to being as repugnant as those recorded by history.

"So, what took you this long?" She suddenly asked breaking the companionable silence that had descended upon them.

"I was meeting with Slughorn to follow up on an apprenticeship offered to me by the Headmistress," he said, simply glad his girlfriend's attention seemed to have moved on from Phineas' book.

"Apprenticeship?!" Hermione asked with sudden enthusiasm. As he narrowed his eyes, she tried to cover her enthusiasm with a hurried answer. "Isn't that wonderful, this is certainly a rare opportunity."

"Give it up, Granger. McGonagall already sold you out. It was a bit too suspicious that the Headmistress of Hogwarts would offer 'me' an apprenticeship, on the same day you suddenly kissed me," he said with a smile, tucking the disgraced Black's book safely into his robes. Draco still hadn't read enough to be sure it was safe to let his muggleborn girlfriend read it. Some old pureblood traditions were quite closely related to the Dark Arts and given her dislike of Magical Matching it was better to err on the side of caution.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked still feigning ignorance.

"The headmistress might have made certain allusions to an open Transfiguration apprenticeship and her fondness for a former student to claim the position," the blond offered with a knowing look.

"Bugger," she grumbled. "Regardless, I for one think it's a brilliant idea. What you've accomplished by combining Arithmancy and Potions is beyond innovative, and after working together these past few months, I'd rather think your well suited to teaching," she said with a beatific smile. "Although, I will admit to having a selfish motive. As you know, the Headmistress has been pushing me to take up an apprenticeship in Transfiguration but I can't abandon E.L.F. until it can stand on its own without me. I was hoping your apprenticeship give me an idea of if I could manage to do both."

"I see, very clever Granger. Although, I am curious why didn't you just ask Longbottom? Isn't he going to be taking over for Professor Sprout?"

"Yes, he is. The problem with Neville is that he's a bit of an odd duck. It takes him time to develop confidence, but once he has it, he's brilliant and makes everything look easy. If I asked him I wouldn't get an accurate picture of the difficulty," the former Gryffindor offered sheepishly. She loved Neville dearly, but Malfoy was simply a better test subject. His managing of his family's business ventures was comparable to her work at the ministry, so his struggles would help predict any struggles she might experience if she chose the same path.

"Sometimes, you make wonder if the sorting hat made a mistake." Before Hermione could answer his eyes strayed to an interesting thing peeking out of her bag. "Granger, are you carrying a flower in your bag?"

Hermione reached for the daffodil and gently pulled it out. "I'm trying to uncover the mystery behind these unwilting flowers."

"So that's one of the flowers from our first date," Draco said, trying to hide his admiration for the beautiful flower. They were his mother's most prized possession and had been part of his family's history since before he was born. In fact, a small vase of them had been in his bedroom since infancy. The Malfoy heir had been completely befuddled when his proud pureblood mother insisted he give a bouquet of these precious flowers to a muggle-born. It became evident that day that both of his parents saw value in adding Hermione to the Malfoy family. Ironically, he'd come to the same conclusion, albeit much later.

"I haven't seen anything like this before. No stasis charms to keep them in that pristine condition or any other magic that kept them from decaying. I thought Neville could help me figure it out." Her gaze moved from the delicate Narcissus to the blond. "Or you could save me some trouble and tell me all about it. After all, you did promise me answer my questions."

Draco could see the strength in her argument, but the secret of the flowers wasn't his to share. Draco bit the inside of his cheek and looked at her, trying to steer in a different direction. "I see you're not denying it was a date. Is that why you kissed me that night?"

"Don't try to distract me from the topic, Draco. I thought you promised me answers."

Draco sighed. "Unfortunately, the story behind those flowers isn't mine to share. That said, you're more than welcome to discuss it with either of my parents." When a look of frustration clouded her face, he chuckled. "Fine, I'll tell you a few things about them. That flower can only be found on the grounds of Malfoy Manor, and it's most likely older than either of us." Draco chuckled at Hermione's shocked expression, it was adorable how expressive she could be. "Oh, and the longevity has nothing to do with the Dark Arts."

"I know it's not dark magic. I've run some tests." Hermione said with a bashful look. "Still, I'd rather ask Neville than your parents about them."

"You're dating a Malfoy, Granger. I warned you that I don't come alone." Draco's tone was uncharacteristically stern, "You're going to meet them again at some point. Don't think you can avoid them forever. Attendance to family dinners and social events is compulsory."

"I'll cross that bridge when I get there. For now, I'm happy to unsettle and confound just one Malfoy."

"Unsettle? I'd like to see you try," he smirked.

She opened her mouth with a sharp retort dancing on her lips but trailed off looking over his shoulder. Draco followed her gaze to see two students hovering at the next table, with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"Brilliant must be fans of yours." Draco quipped with amusement. "If your fame becomes a constant irritation for me, I might need to practice casting the Disillusionment Charm. It might end up being the only way we get any privacy."

"We could always transfigure ourselves to look like other people, it works for Harry and Ginny," Hermione offered.

"Don't be absurd, one doesn't tamper with Malfoy perfection."

Ignoring her boyfriend's ego, Hermione noticed that the pair of girls sporting blue and bronze were focused solely on Draco. "Although I doubt your ego needs it, I think they're here for you."

"Mr. Malfoy." One of the girls scampered towards them to the utter surprise of Draco. "My friend and I were wondering if you could help us understand the alterations you made to the shrinking solution. We'd like to understand the concept better."

"No," Draco dismissed coldly. "If you wish to learn, ask Professor Slughorn. It's his job to teach you not mine."

"There's no need to be rude, Draco," Hermione hissed in his ear. "It's just a shrinking potion, for Godric's sake." Draco sneered, trying to ignore Hermione's warm tickling breath near his neck, as she leaned closer to whisper. "If you do it, I might consider rewarding you."

She gave a naughty smirk as Draco narrowed his eyes at her taunting words. "Bribery? How the mighty have fallen. Don't regret this later Granger." Noticing the smirk still in place on her lips, he turned to the apprehensive students and said in a condescending tone, "The theory is pretty much self-explanatory. If you don't understand it, I doubt you're even qualified to attend the class."

The girls looked terrified and took a few steps back and Hermione took the matter into her own hands. "What Mr. Malfoy is trying to say is," she said giving a hard pinch to the outside of Draco's thigh making him wince. "While he'd rather not explain the basic points of the theory. He's happy to explain the finer points with the both of you."

The girls looked at each other and finally glanced at the Malfoy heir who nodded, trying to control his trademark sneer. "Just make it quick," he said beckoning them to come closer. Leaning towards Hermione he whispered, "Ms. Granger, what do you think you're doing?" He tapped on the back of her hand that was resting on his thigh massaging it gently.

"Rewarding you, unless you'd rather I didn't," she whispered so that only he could hear, resuming her research, with the hand still in place.

Draco took a deep breath and took a parchment from one of the students, trying his best to ignore the warmth of Granger's hand, that was slowly spreading to other problematic parts of his anatomy. "What is it you're having difficulty with?"

"Why did the leech juice substitution improve our results? Last time we were asked to brewed it the color was off, but this time it was perfect," the girl spoke with a beaming smile.

"The preservation process filters out the more volatile components of leech juice without affecting the potency. It's the same reason why distilling certain potions can double their potency." Draco tried his best to keep his calm, as Hermione's fingers now began to draw circles on his thigh. "If that was all, you can leave now."

"Well, we were wondering if there is a particular amount of time the juice has to be preserved to be this effective?"

"Yes," he said with a slight tremor in voice. "The optimum number of days required for preservation is deduced using Arithmancy." A side glance towards the temptress beside him told Draco she was very much enjoying his trouble.

"Professor Slughorn told us you're integrating both the subjects and …." The rest of the sentence went over his head as Granger's lithe fingers flirted with danger and he instinctively clamped his hand down to halt the movement. "We've only started Arithmancy this year and frankly it's a very fascinating subject."

"Well, my work here is done," Hermione said rising from her spot with a triumphant smile, effectively having pulled her hand from Draco's grip. "If you'll excuse me I need to check something in the restricted section." She turned to the girls and gave a beaming smile. "Mr. Malfoy's very skilled, and he doesn't often offer his help to others. I'd advise both of you not to waste the opportunity to learn from him."

"Thank you, Ms. Granger." Both girls echoed dreamily.

Draco seethed, as his mischievous muggleborn disappeared into the aisles of the restricted section. This lioness definitely liked to play with fire, but she seemed to have forgotten that he was a serpent, constricting and venomous.

After dispensing with the two Ravenclaw girls with a series of curt answers and allowing his physical response to his girlfriend's ministrations to fade. Draco followed the path into the restricted section that Hermione'd taken only a few moments before. His brow creased when he didn't find her in a place where he expected she would be. Instead, he was greeted by two students in green robes with wide eyes. Thankfully, his sneer was enough to drive them off. With his hands tucked in his pockets; Draco continued to explore the aisles in search of his wayward lioness when suddenly a hand tapped his shoulder from behind.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Granger." He kept his voice seductively low, as he turned around to meet her twinkling eyes, accompanied by a beautiful and satisfied smile on her lips. "I take it your earlier actions were revenge for apparating you without asking this morning and then making you wait?" He asked as he started backing her up towards the bookshelves.

"Maybe, but it was also quite a bit of fun." she breathed as her back was now pressed against the bookshelves.

"Minx." Draco took in a sharp breath and trailed his hands to her waist, pulling her closer. Brushing his nose against her cheek, he relished in the scent that was uniquely hers. Without letting her offer a reply, he pressed his lips against hers.

As soon as her lips opened to his ministrations, he was treated to a passionate assault that could only belong to the fierce Gryffindor. She slowly sucked in his bottom lip, letting him explore the indents of her skillful mouth. Her fingers played with the fine hair at the nape of his neck, earning a low growl from him. His mouth descended to her throat and his fingers trailed along the length of her arms. The young Malfoy smirked at the deep moan that came from the back of her throat when his hand accidentally grazed the side of her breast.

Draco's eyes widened when he suddenly heard a buzzing sound. He immediately withdrew and quirked an eyebrow at her, noticing the sound was indeed coming from her. "Do all Muggleborns buzz when aroused?" He said narrowing his eyes at her heaving chest, trying to restrain himself from ravishing her here. "Or is it just you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, giving a sharp swat to his arm."It's an alarm. To keep myself from getting lost in books or other activities," she teased, "I set a reminder for when the elves would be finished with lunch so I could meet with them."

"Is there any chance I could persuade you to delay it?" Draco asked already knowing her answer.

"Not a chance." She said tapping his lips and turning to move down the aisles. Draco looked at her retreating form and sighed. Hermione Granger was sexual frustration personified. He chided himself for being reduced to his fifteen-year-old self, who hadn't hesitated to make out in the back corners of a Library, but one thing was certain; he would have his revenge. He wouldn't be satisfied until his lioness was left writhing, shrieking his name deliriously lost in a perpetual orgasmic haze.

A/N: If anyone's in a mood for a suspense/horror/thriller/mystery, do check out Trinkisme's HP Fanfic, "Monster". It's chilling to the bone and the suspense just keeps getting better, chapter after chapter. It's a brilliant piece of fiction and very true to its genre. I'm not a fan of the 'horror' genre, but this one turned the tables for me.