Hermione paced the Room, worried he'd been lying about coming. She bit at her nails, feeling ridiculously, foolishly, pathetically female. Here she was, in an absolute panic about whether or not her boyfriend – not even her boyfriend! – her quasi-boyfriend fuck buddy was going to keep their 'date' or not.

She folded her arms across her chest, pacing with renewed vigor. She was furious with herself. This was absurd. This was Draco fucking Malfoy she was worried about. She tested the thought, hoping it would diminish her tension. She expelled the breath she had been holding, all the more angry with herself, because somehow it didn't help. She knew perfectly well it was Draco fucking Malfoy that had her tangled up in knots, just as she knew why. Somehow he had become her touchstone, her safe haven. He was one of very few people around whom she could simply be. He didn't expect her to be a hero, or a bookworm, or a jilted lover, or a stalwart friend, or a perfect bloody daughter. He didn't expect anything, and however she was seemed fine with him.

When she had dipped her toes in the icy water of revenge, he'd gone along for the ride – and somehow turned it into a different adventure altogether. When she'd embraced the idea of exploring her baser nature, he'd matched her step for step. When she had needed space, he offered it without hesitation. When she needed warmth, he gave it freely, without strings or requirements or qualifications. Just his warmth at her side, just his arms around her.

Losing Ron had been like losing a piece of herself, but Hermione was coming to realize that self had faded to nothing long before Ron had ever abandoned her. She wouldn't have been able to recognize that girl if she saw her on the street. The overachiever who worried about rules and grades and school above all else had been held over the forge and hammered into something else altogether.

She spun as the door opened and scrambled to appear nonchalant as Draco walked in. She failed obviously, as his expression showed.

"You alright?" he asked.

"No," she said, stepping forward and slapping him hard in the chest, one, two, three times. "No, I'm not. Because somebody decided to take a million bloody years to come tonight."

He smiled, and she blinked at the brilliance of it. "You were worried," he said, backing her toward the bed. "You were worried I wasn't actually going to come."

"Shut it," she said.

"What happened to being sorry?" he asked, as her knees hit the bed, and she was forced to scoot onto it.

"You were late," she said, as he crawled on after her.

"I should be late more often," he said, catching her bottom lip between his teeth.

She wanted to tell him that was the wrong attitude, but he was kissing her, and touching her, and she couldn't seem to form any sort of truly coherent thought.

His teeth sunk into her lip, just this side of painful. She moaned and arched into him. "Draco," she breathed, when he pulled back just far enough to be able to look at her.

His mouth took hers again, hard, fast, reckless. She tangled a hand in his hair, gripped his shoulder with the other, then let it slide down his chest. Instinctively, she was pulling at his shirt, struggling to find skin.

He let her go just long enough to pull it over his head, then dragged her back to him for another mind emptying kiss.

"Do you know how much I want you?" he asked, mouth moving down her neck, over her shoulders. Deft fingers flicked open buttons as his mouth continued to roam over her skin. "Do you know how crazy you make me?" he breathed.

His tongue slid under her bra as he unclasped it one-handed. His lips closed over newly exposed flesh, teeth grazing her nipple and making her cry out. She arched her hips, tried to press against him, but he shifted away.

"No," he mumbled. "I want you at least half as mad as I am."

She tried to tell him she was, but couldn't get her tongue to form meaningful words. He continued his journey down, dragging her trousers off.

He sat back on his heels and took her foot in his hands, drawing it up. "Do you know," he began, as his thumb stroked over the arch of her foot, "do you have any idea, how long I've wanted you?" he asked.

Without waiting for an answer, he used mouth, just there, until she was writhing, begging. When his hands slid up her leg, eased closer to where she burned for him, she thought he would finish it, but he shifted and stroked them down her other leg. He gave that foot the same treatment and had her insensible.

Finally, finally his mouth moved up her calf, breaking for a moment to take advantage of the sensitive skin just behind her knees, before journeying up the inside of her thighs. Still he toyed with her, scraping teeth over skin, stopping just short of his destination.

She twisted a hand into his hair, urged him on. "Please," she moaned. "Draco."

She was so aching, so dismantled, so ready that she came the moment his mouth touched her. Her hips arched, her hands dragged at his hair. When she could focus again, she looked down to find him watching her, a wicked smile on his face as he moved up her body.

"You're such a bastard," she breathed, but he only chuckled.

"I like it better when you beg," he said, licking his lips.

His hands moved down, brought her back to the edge, and delivered his desired result. She was pleading with him when he took her, screaming as she came, her nails scoring down his back, his name on her lips.


A/N: Too much?

PS Apologies for any editing issues. The second half of this was a last minute addition. I usually give each chapter some breathing room, so I can edit properly, but I wanted to get this up sooner rather than later. I'll probably regret it when I check it over a week from now. Maybe I should figure out how the whole beta process works.