A/N: Thank you one and all for your love. It's amazing to see your lovely responses to this little attempt of ours.

I don't mention enough but the credit for the development of this story with all its powerful emotions, realistic details, deep nuances, and many more things you guys have acknowledged solely goes to White Bishop. I once again thank you for giving me an opportunity to be a part of this.


Freedom and Restriction


His fingers twitched nervously as they reached for the zipper of her dress. He could see her silhouette against the wall with a rigid posture and tensed shoulders. He moved his fingers to gently brush over the stiff muscles, trying to relieve some of the tension. "You're sure?" He asked, his lips hovering near her left ear.

She gave him a sideward glance with a smile and nodded. "No, but I'm not going to let a little fear stop me. It's still a risk, but I'm ready."

If her smile was any indication Draco knew he had to push aside his own fears. The moment was finally here, he wasn't ready, he never would be, but his pride would see him through.

He nudged the offending garment away from her shoulder and bent his head to press his lips to the tender skin, slamming it on the top of his desk with a harsh thud.

Wincing at the sharp pain that shot through his skull and still slightly dazed, the Malfoy heir took in his surroundings. "What in the?" he muttered barely audibly. One moment he was about to lay claim to Hermione Granger, and the next he was in his lab feeling the after-effects of a minor head trauma.

Blinking his eyes to adjust to the light, he realized what he had experienced was nothing more than a rather realistic dream courtesy of his own imagination. Summoning a glass of water and gulping it down, he tried to rationalize the dream. Willfully ignoring the obvious, the young wizard concluded that Potter and Nott were to blame. The pain in his skull fading, Draco was finally able to take in his surroundings to realize he'd fallen asleep in his potions' lab again. Such occurrences weren't unheard of, especially when trying to keep track of a new or demanding experiment, but it was rare that his dreams weren't bloodstained nightmares. Shaking off the grim reminder, Draco turned his eyes to the clock and cursed when he noticed it was almost midday.

He reached for the cauldron to check the potion he'd left simmering over the night. If the purple fumes were to be believed, the potion was ready. The young Malfoy sighed contentedly looking at the ripples created by the wave of his wand on the surface of the potion. After scooping up a tiny portion of the brew into a small vial on the table, he leaned back in his chair looking at the swirling potion in the unique cauldron. Brewing potions like this, was rare because bone vessels became brittle after being exposed to direct heat and the cauldrons were easily ruined. It required a master's skill, and even then, the large improvements in potency weren't enough to be deemed worth it to most potioneers. Draco wondered if a certain meddlesome witch would be able to recognize the value in using the remains of a magical creature or would it simply be abhorrent to her sensibilities. Would she'd be willing to see things from his perspective in this instance? If it had been any other creature, maybe, but Hermione Granger was too devoted to her cause to listen to reason. Thankfully, the chances of her learning about these cauldrons were slim. His muggleborn wasn't very fond of the Manor, and he'd tripled the wards after watching the brilliant witch break into Potter's office with minimal effort. Draco wasn't taking any chances.

He moved to give his slumped body a good stretch, groaning when the bones near his neck cracked rather loudly. As various neglected bodily urges set upon him, he realized he'd been in this lab for far too long, and summoned his faithful elf. "Tinky!"

"Master Draco." He looked at the tiny elf hovering over him with large bulging eyes. Draco cautiously took a step back knowing the diminutive creature was likely moments away from clinging to his master's leg and bursting into sobs. "Tinky is here for whatever Master needs. Tinky worried for Master when he locked himself in the lab. Mistress was so distressed, young master hasn't eaten dinner for two days."

Draco grimaced trying to tune out the high pitched squealing. Yes, that was another reason for locking himself in his lab. It wasn't simply that he was avoiding an unpleasant dinner conversation with his meddling parents after the topic of Theo's engagement had been brought up. No, he'd simply been struck by a desire to conduct his research without being bothered. It was a cowardly excuse, but it seemed to have worked thus far. "I'm fine. Just run me a hot bath and bring a light meal to my room, and don't let mother know," he added in a warning tone.

"But Mistress' so worried. She doesn't like it when Master Draco misses meals, she worries for your health," the elf begged with wide eyes, scooting closer.

"I doubt she's overly concerned for my health, Tinky. No, I'd wager she wishes to remind me of my duty or wants to interrogate me." He uttered the last part under his breath. Looking at Tinky's worried eyes he took a deep breath. "Once you've done what I've asked; you can tell Mother I've gone to Hogwarts for a meeting, but am in the picture of health and do not expect to be back until after she has retired for the evening."

"That explanation is mediocre at best, and I would advise against it, Draco." Narcissa's voice sounded from a chair in the dark corner of his lab and Draco shot up from his spot. "Better to have quick lunch with your doting mother than to answer to your father upon your return," the lady of the Manor offered with a knowing and slightly sinister smile. "Tinky, prepare Draco's bath, but he will be having lunch in the dining hall with me." The elf nodded then apparated away.

"Mother, I apologize. Fatigue got the better of me and I didn't notice your arrival," Draco said fixing his clothing.

Narcissa approached taking a peek into the cauldron "A new and ambitious project I presume?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

"A refinement, I've had to temper my ambition as of late; expectations have become rather burdensome and hinder innovation." Draco offered pointedly. "Regardless, this refinement has proven temperamental and has left me little time for trivial things."

Narcissa scowled at his flippant reply, while Draco cast a wary look at his mother. "While I understand your commitment to your work; skipping dinner with your father and I, not once but twice, is simply unconscionable, Draco. I've raised you better than that."

"I promise, it won't happen again."

"If this potion is all that has kept you away from us, then your father and I have no reason to be concerned." Narcissa walked closer to her son, and gave a smile, "However, if these absences are due to a misplaced desire to avoid your duty as our heir, then..." She trailed off.

Draco schooled his expression, not wanting to fall into Narcissa's trap. "No mother, there's nothing else. I know what must be done, and I'll do my duty, as I always have. I was just focused on this potion and Slughorn suggested that my success with it could be very advantageous for us. Since I doubt the Headmistress would allow me to consult with Severus' portrait, he's the only Potioneer with the sufficient knowledge that I can afford to trust."

"I suppose so, Abraxas and Lucius both seemed to place value on Horace's skills and trustworthiness. Very well then," Narcissa donned a look of disinterest. "I still think these ventures are below your capabilities, but you're free to pursue your interests, so long as they do not bring us shame. Anyway, the elf should have everything ready for you now."

"Yes, mother. I'll see you in a few minutes." Draco didn't miss his mother's lack of apparent insistence on his duties to the family.

Before a sigh of relief escaped Draco's lips, Narcissa spoke over her shoulder from the doors. "It's regrettable that you failed to join your father and I for breakfast," Draco closed his eyes waiting for the inevitable slight. "We've arranged to celebrate Theodore's engagement here at the Manor."

That was unexpected. He knew his parents had a soft spot for Theo, but this was beyond his expectations. Malfoys were not so kind; they tended to be quite miserly with favors unless there was something to be gained. As to what his parents wished to gain, the answer came swiftly with a devastating impact.

"Just a small gathering. Friends and close acquaintances." Draco narrowed his eyes as she placed an elegant envelope on the table near the door. "Ms. Granger's invitation; I trust you to deliver it to her in a proper fashion. Despite your claims of courting her, she has yet to make a proper debut on your arm and your father and I both believe there is no better occasion than celebrating your dear friend's engagement." Without a word she left the room, leaving Draco no other choice.

In foolishly avoiding his parents, the elder Malfoys had outwitted their son and cornered him in an inescapable trap. Now it seemed, that Theo's engagement celebration was going to be Hermione Granger's official debut as his girlfriend. He should have known better, he should have embarrassed Theo more, he should have fled the country when he had the chance.

Dragging his sluggish body towards the table, he took the dainty note into his hands. It was quite a hefty envelope and Draco couldn't help but wonder what else his mother packed in the missive. Pondering on the utter disaster that was soon to happen, Draco grabbed the potion vial and apparated back to his room, already dreading the conversation he was going to have with his lioness.

After a troublesome morning and an uncomfortable lunch with his mother, Draco stood on the balcony of his room, his trusted broom in his hands. With the vial and the invitation safely tucked in his pockets, he kicked off and began the flight to Hogwarts. Once he dealt with old Sluggy, all that remained would be breaking the unpleasant news to his girlfriend and handing her the dreaded invitation. It was obvious that Granger wouldn't likely respond well to what amounted to a summons to a Pureblood social event courtesy of Lady Malfoy, but it's not as if it was his choice. He'd need to be diplomatic about this, or risk a flock of canaries. Thankfully, Draco did some of his best thinking while in the air, and the journey from Wiltshire to Scotland would provide him plenty of time to think.

His thoughts ran towards his fiery girlfriend and their last encounter. A small part of Draco hoped that they would continue what had started on her couch, but the unfortunate encounter with the Potters and his desire to embarrass the future Notts had derailed things more than he'd expected.

Following both events, Hermione's mood had seemed uneasy, and uncharacteristically sullen for the normally cheery muggleborn. It didn't take long for him to deduce it had something to do with the mention of memory charms earlier in the day, but he hadn't expected such a vehement denial the moment he'd made a minor request. Draco sighed as the conversation that happened between them, resurfaced his mind.

"No!"

"Pardon?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"There's no 'Need' for you to meet my parents at all." Her tone denoting a sense of finality.

"You're mistaken, Granger. There's not only a need, but it's my duty." Draco pushing into defenses, unwilling to bend on the issue.

"Too bad, it's not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want it to." She turned away trying to hide her emotions.

"There are limits to your wilfulness Granger, this is non-negotiable," he said in a stern tone. "Tradition demands that I introduce myself to them to declare my intentions with respect to their daughter. It's important that I present myself as a man worthy of caring for you." He soothed placing his hands on her shoulders.

"They're Muggles Draco, why bother displaying pureblood traditions to muggles."

He struggled to understand her perspective; as far as he knew, such things were common, even amongst muggles, and yet, Hermione's mood had shifted dramatically. "It doesn't matter that they're muggles. I don't delight in visiting muggles, but your parents deserve the peace of mind that I am a man who is capable of supporting you. It's important that they understand what kind of man I am."

"Just drop it Draco, I don't want to have this conversation and neither do you." She warned pulling herself out of his embrace.

"I wouldn't have proposed it if I didn't think it necessary, Hermione."

"Really?! You want them to know what kind of man you are?!" She whirled at him and shouted. "Draco, you're the kind of man who just a few years ago would have kidnapped them and handed them over to VOLDEMORT! You're the man who was the little boy who made my first few years at Hogwarts miserable. The moment they find out any of that, they'll hate you!"

Draco winced, the truth of his girlfriend's words cut no different than Potter's Sectumsempra. "And I presume it would be asking too much of you to simply omit my past mistakes."

"I can't, I've hurt them too much already." Her eyes softened and her gaze moved downward.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to keep his frustration to himself. "Then where does this leave us, Hermione? Is your forgiveness merely empty words?"

"No, it's not." She took a deep breath and looked at him with a troubled expression. "I-I don't know. I've been avoiding this because I didn't know what to do about it!" Draco closed his eyes and sighed angrily, but didn't lash out. "I just need to think about it, alright? I need some time." She persuaded him to look at her and pressed her lips to his. "I do forgive you Draco, I mean it. I'm not asking you to forsake tradition, but when it comes to my parents I need you to trust me." she whispered softly, "I'm not saying never, just not now, okay?" Her words held a firmness to which Draco couldn't help but acquiesce.

That was their last conversation of the evening, after which they had bid each other goodnight. Draco wondered how he could overcome this new hurdle. It seemed as if the courtship of Hermione Granger was just one more impossible task after another; there were too many dangers that could easily destroy this relationship. Memory Charms, Gryffindors, Magical Matching, and his lies just to name a few. Everything seemed so much more simple under the Dark Lord, comply or die.

"Salazar, save me." He muttered under his breath at the dark thought that had assailed him. No, Courting Hermione Granger wasn't that bad. It might be troublesome, periodically filling him with fear, anger, and anxiety, but there were also perks; the gift of a strong heir; the soft caress of her lips; the kindness of her words; and the sinful promise of her body. Yes, courting Hermione Granger wasn't too bad all things considered.

He took a deep breath, as the wards that protected Hogwarts brushed against him, bringing him out of his thoughts. Getting down near the Quidditch stands, he quickly moved out of the way of few students on their brooms and proceeded inside the castle with his broom safely tucked under his arm, unaware that the object of thoughts, apparated just outside of the grounds.

Stepping out of dungeons he let out a disgruntled groan. The aged Professor had managed to eat up most of the afternoon, and Draco had somehow let him! With a sneer thrown over his shoulder, he walked towards the grounds where he'd stowed his broom. He lost so much time, with the old fool answering questions. Apparently, the refinement was beyond expectations to such a degree that Slughorn wouldn't let the Malfoy heir leave without providing a detailed explanation. According to the Slytherin Head of House, Draco's penchant for fragile bone cauldrons and application of Arithmancy had contributed to unbelievable refinements to age-old potion practices.

Draco was on the verge of exhaustion but was at least thankful that the Potion Master's exuberance had distracted from the lingering apprenticeship offer. Draco has still yet to make a firm decision on the matter. The Headmistress wasn't pleased, but that was hardly anything new for her; particularly when a Malfoy was involved. Still, she kept the offer on the table, saying that the position would remain open until Slughorn declared his formal intent to retire. It was more than Draco had expected, and he couldn't help wonder if his muggleborn had something to do with it.

The young Malfoy groaned at the thought of his girlfriend since it reminded him of the task given to him by his mother earlier today. If he tried to avoid it or postpone it, he wouldn't hear the end of it from his mother. It wasn't as if he could avoid dinner with his parents this evening, at least not without a more valid reason than brewing a potion. It wasn't that the thought of meeting with his lioness wasn't appetizing, but the burden of proposing their public debut as a couple was more daunting than expected. There were pureblood traditions and rules of decorum that Granger didn't know, and some that she'd likely resist, getting her to the event and getting a Gryffindor like her to behave just didn't seem possible, to say nothing of Draco's own feelings on the matter.

Until now, he could just pretend that this wasn't real, that it was a dream, one of his pubescent fantasies run amok. Delivering this invitation was nothing but a burden; it made it real, and Draco didn't know if they, or rather he, was ready for it.

He saw the approaching darkness of a purple sky through the castle windows as he stepped towards the Quidditch grounds. Handling potions was so much more simple than dealing with people. How was he expected to make his stubborn bookworm girlfriend see the benefits of attending a party at the Manor?

Draco's sluggish gait ground to a halt the moment he heard a distinctive lecturing voice echoing from a nearby room. He smirked, as the voice tried to speak with authority about Quidditch and what constituted a foul. "Never played a serious game of it in her life, yet she's lecturing as if she's a foremost authority on it," he muttered to himself. Still, based on what he could hear, her theoretical knowledge was spot on. If he did end up taking Slughorn's apprenticeship, it might be worth trying to persuade her to coach the Slytherin team. After all, her knowledge with a bit of Slytherin deviousness could go a long way towards putting the inter-house cup into Slytherin hands permanently.

With a conspiratorial smile in place, he proceeded towards his lioness only to stop again. If Granger's here and talking about Quidditch, that clearly means she's here with one of her annoying friends. "Brilliant," Draco cursed wondering which dunderhead it would be today. Hopefully, not one of the ginger weasels or Potter.

The answer came as he heard her next words, "You need to cover these fouls in your tutoring sessions, Oliver. It's not enough to cover the eleven common fouls when there are seven hundred! Every one of them was committed at the first Quidditch World Cup in 1473, and the last thing you want is some student thinking their clever and getting penalized for committing a foul."

The young Malfoy rolled his eyes at her suggestion. Until recently, Wood played for Puddlemere and was the often mocked Captain of Gryffindor's Quidditch team for most of Draco's time at Hogwarts. His girlfriend's suggestions and recommendations seemed rather pointless weighed against Wood's experience.

"Oh, I plan to Hermione. McGonagall told me how the teams are lacking in spirit this year and I will do my best to rectify that. Between us, I should say I'll see to it that Gryffindor will again win the Quidditch cup. Given the team's not as good as we had during our school, but with proper guidance, they'll have a chance."

"You can be fired for that Oliver. Everyone deserves similar training and to be meticulous you have to identify the strengths and weaknesses of each team and teach them to use them to their advantage." Hermione replied in a slightly louder voice, making Draco proud for a moment. She was the person most bullied for being an outsider among them and still champions for equality of opportunity even in Quidditch.

"I'm only just saying, Hermione. I know well enough not to cross Professor McGonagall, but it's not like those Slytherins will listen to me anyway."

"So, McGonagall's letting you play favorites?" Draco drawled announcing his presence as he stood in the doorway. "Considering she's the Headmistress, it hardly seems fair."

"Draco," Hermione beamed at his sudden appearance. Draco smirked at the shock on Wood's face and wagered if the apparent shock was at his presence or at the knowledge that Draco had heard his not so professional remark. "I was hoping to run into you. Oh, by the way, you remember Oliver Wood right?"

"Of course, the infamous Puddlemere Keeper who mysteriously retired just before the match with the Harpies."

"It was an injury, didn't think I could do right by my team so I stepped down. What are you implying?" Oliver asked in a menacing tone.

"Don't play innocent, Wood. I was at the match, your replacement was pathetic. Even the Weasel King could have played better. Add to that Potter's proposal at the end of the match and even the most ardent Puddlemere supporter might just start to wonder. As a fan of 'good' Quidditch, and a now-former Puddlemere supporter, watching that match was painful."

"Are you insinuating, Harpies' victory was not hard-earned?! Ginny's one of the top Quidditch players in the country and was chiefly responsible for that win." Hermione jumped in support of her friend.

"Not saying Potter's wife isn't talented on a broom, just musing on why Wood retired so suddenly."

"Bet against the Harpies, did you Malfoy?" Oliver asked with an amusing smile, capturing Draco's attention. "Poor judgment there, but didn't your father buy the whole Slytherin team Nimbus 2001s to secure your place as a Seeker; only for you to lose to Harry?"

"I earned that position on merit," Draco growled. "Unlike Potter, I wasn't given any privilege or special training. I had to work to earn my position on the team. Those broomsticks, were a generous gift to the team from my father days after I'd been unofficially named Seeker. I don't need to prove myself to the likes of you."

"Hurts doesn't it?" Oliver calmly got down from the table he was perched on. "Being accused of not respecting the true spirit of the game. Not that Flint's Slytherin team was known for respecting the rules. Still, the Harpies won fair and square and I couldn't be happier for them; but my loyalties are always to the team I'm playing for." Oliver came closer and patted on Draco's shoulder. "I respect Harry, Ginny, and Quidditch too much to ever throw a match. Also, don't give up on Puddlemere just yet. I might not be playing anymore, but I have it on good authority they're undertaking intensive training to be ready for next season. There'll be 'good' Quidditch to be had next season I promise, so don't forget to cheer for Puddlemere." Draco took a step back to shake off Oliver Wood's hand as the former Gryffindor transfigured a small wooden stick lying in the corner into an outrageous hat, that carried Puddlemere United's Logo. Thrusting the absurd thing into Draco's reluctant hands, the older wizard added, "do wear it to our next game."

Hermione snapped her hand on her mouth trying to stop her giggles, ignoring Draco's glare.

"See you later Hermione. Do give my best to Harry, Ginny, and Ron." Oliver stepped out of the room leaving Draco and Hermione to deal with the consequences of their unusual conversation.

"How dare he, treating me like a child. As if I'd ever be caught dead in this vile thing." Draco threw the hideous hat on the ground and set it alight it with his wand. Hermione burst into laughter unable to hold it in anymore. "Enough, Granger."

"It's your own fault, Draco." She spoke in between peals of her laughter, picking up the now-scorched hat and restoring it with a flick of her wand. "Oliver's a professional and you insulted him first by suggesting he threw a Quidditch match."

"Can't you just let me destroy that thing." Draco harshly pointed towards the hat.

"No, I rather like it, and I think I'll wear it if you ever try to drag me to a Quidditch match." the Muggleborn witch smirked triumphantly stowing the hat in her trusty beaded bag.

"Plenty of loyalty for your dear friend and former housemate, but none for your boyfriend?"

"Oliver isn't my dear-anything, and I'm perfectly happy to show you loyalty when you're not being a colossal prat. You're the one who came here like a pouting child who lost his favorite toy." When Draco started to say something, she placed her finger on his lips. "While I'm happy to argue with you as long as it takes for you to admit you're wrong, but I think there are other things we could be doing right now, don't you?"

Draco smirked and raised an eyebrow at her, marveling at her skills of guiding them away from troubled waters.

"Yes, but you'd need to be wearing considerably less for what I've got in mind," he winked. "Wait a minute, what are you doing here? I was planning on dropping by your office to invite you out for an impromptu dinner."

"I needed to borrow some books from the library and check on Winky. Neville told me he saw you going towards the dungeons, so I thought I could wait and we could head back to London together."

"You're aware I didn't apparate, right?" Draco folded his hands, a plan already shaping up in his mind, that included an agile broomstick and an enticing witch.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, Neville mentioned you zoomed in on your broom." Draco chuckled at her articulation. "And now I can see the insidious plan forming in your head. So, before it can take shape, shall we head out?"

"An insidious plan? You know me too well, Hermione. Unfortunately, my plan this time is a touch more romantic," he said advancing towards her. She scampered as he backed her to the wall with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

She stopped him pressing her palms into his chest. "Romantic, that's not a word I ever thought I'd hear from you."

"Our lives are full of things we never thought would happen." He brushed his lips against her cheek and said, "and yet here we are."

"Yes, but before we get carried away," she gave him a nudge, pushing him away from her. "Why don't we take this someplace else."

"Fine by me. An abandoned classroom is hardly a good place to ravish you."

Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped past him hurriedly, but couldn't hide the blush that crept up her cheeks at his words.

"Wrong way, Granger," Draco sing-songed.

"Hardly, this is the way to the front gate. May I remind you, you cannot apparate in and out of Hogwarts. Unless you're going to trouble the Headmistress for Floo access, we need to walk to an apparition point," she said in a slightly frustrated voice.

"Granger, don't be silly. There's no better feeling than the rush of cold wind in your hair with a warm body pressed against you."

"Looks like I've got quite a bit to teach you about what feels good Draco; but for now, I'll humor you. Let's go flying."

Draco was stunned into silence as she looked at him with a smirk rivaling his own. Chuckling at his dumbfounded expression, she came closer and picked up his dropped jaw. "I've been practicing for quite some time. Although my skills are still basic, I can proudly say I can ride a broomstick from here to London." When Draco narrowed his eyes, knowing there still more to her plan. "But we'll be going on separate brooms. I still stand by what I said before. You're reckless on a broom and I don't have a death wish."

"Seems to me you're omitting the part about warm bodies being pressed together." Draco's annoyance was clear in his eyes.

"Oh hush, Draco!" She quickly threw a wary glance around. "It's separate brooms or no brooms at all."

"Really, where's the fun in that?" Suddenly his eyes lit up. "Which reminds me, I do believe I'm owed a list of acceptable favors. I've been waiting for quite some time, and it has yet to be delivered. I think you're abusing my generosity, Hermione."

"I was hoping you would forget about that," she mumbled under her breath. Looking at the cautionary glance she added with a sigh. "I want to be thorough. I can't let you take advantage of me! I need to think about every possibility. If I forget to mention my clothing in detail, you could ask for something completely ridiculous like I shouldn't wear any underthings at work, or even worse, that I wear only my underthings at work!"

Draco chuckled at her scandalized look on her face. "Didn't know you were secretly an exhibitionist, Granger." She shot a glare but Draco furrowed his brow in contemplation. "You should know that I don't share, Hermione. I would've limited such requests to our private meetings. In fact, I do have some suggestions while we're on the topic."

"Draco! That was just an example."

Chuckling loudly at her scandalized expression, he continued. "Anyway, since you've expressed the desire to ride with me."

"Ride beside you; on a separate broom," she clarified.

"So, am I to understand you have no objections?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I suppose," Hermione asked in confusion.

"Then, shall we?." He offered his elbow with a sudden cheery mood.

Hermione skeptically took his arm as he guided both of them towards the Quidditch lockers where he'd stored his broom.

"By the way; where are you keeping this supposed broomstick you plan on riding?" He came to a stop as they approached the lockers. Hermione still suspicious extracted it out of her bag. After a cursory examination, the Malfoy heir remarked, "A bit underwhelming, but I'm guessing it's a spare you borrowed from Mrs. Potter." Hermione frowned at her boyfriend's dismissive attitude as he continued. "Maybe that's for the best. If it were more valuable, I'd be worried about leaving it here until your next visit." He opened the locker door and placed it into it.

"What do you think you're doing?! I'm supposed to ride that broomstick!"

"You didn't really trust me, did you? I feel like sometimes you forget I'm a Slytherin, Hermione." Draco said casually pulling out his broom from an adjacent locker. "Surely, you knew I'd pull a stunt like this, and were playing along."

"I don't play games, Draco." Hermione shoved him away and tried to take her broom.

"Neither do I, at least not ones I don't intend to win," Draco said effectively stopping her from pulling it out. "Did I mention I ran into Potter's elf? Kreacher was certainly surprised to see a noble descendant of the House of Black in the kitchens." Hermione's eyes widened at the mention. "The old thing was oddly chatty."

"You. Did. Not." Hermione shouted.

"Did not, what?" Draco said calmly. "Suggest he visit his masters to discuss suitable replacements for wall decor?" Hermione turned pale. "No, I haven't." Hearing her relieved sigh, he immediately added, "However, I was tempted to. I wonder how that temptation could be curbed?"

"You're going to pay for this Draco Malfoy." Hermione glared at him.

"I look forward to discussing it while we fly back to London together. After all, that's what we agreed on, right?" Draco knew he was pushing too hard, but if she couldn't tolerate this much mischief they'd kill each other before she ever bore him an heir. "Consider this request payment for delaying that list of yours." He offered as a rationalization, "I'm not a patient man and not too long ago you agreed flying was a reasonable request. So, I'd think this is a fair repayment for making me wait."

Draco could see the reluctant acceptance on her face as she remained mute, but her eyes were alight as her brilliant mind sought to undermine him. Hermione Granger wasn't afraid to challenge him or be challenged herself. These kind of games were dangerous, but that was the thrill of it. How far could he push? This wasn't Gryffindor recklessness, this was a self-imposed test of cunning, and Draco Malfoy played to win.

"This counts as your favor," she muttered resigned to her fate.

Before Draco realized, the broom was in her hands and she was walking towards the open field. He watched his lioness mount the broom and start hovering slightly above the ground. Her form was a bit sloppy but she was well-balanced and her hand placement was good. It was obvious she'd been practicing, and she certainly looked like a vision in the twilight with her hair flowing in the breeze.

"I'm the one who's in control, or I leave you here."

The Malfoy heir smirked at her declaration. If Granger wanted to set the terms fine, but he'd set some of his own. "I've got a better idea; I fly, and if you don't enjoy yourself we consider this my favor. Conversely, if our flight isn't the most fun you've had outside of a library or bedroom, I retain my right to ask you any single favor within reason."

Hermione bit her lip musing on his proposal, and for a split second Draco considered scrapping the whole thing, tackling her off the broom, and ravishing her in the middle of Hogwarts' Quidditch pitch instead. Unfortunately, her confident acquiescence came too quickly and pushed him into action. Stepping towards her with a genuine smile, he mounted the broomstick causing it to dip suddenly. They both heard her audible gasp as his hands settled on her hips, but neither addressed it.

"It's a shame you're wasting your favor on this," a slight tremor in her voice. "I'll have you know I've had quite a bit of fun outside of a library or bedroom."

"I'd expect no less from you, Granger. Still, I'm confident that flying with me can top anything."

"Overconfident as always; I doubt you can top breaking out of Gringotts or riding a dragon."

"That's a rather advanced maneuver. Let's try a bed first, then you can try riding your dragon on a broom."

In the split second of Hermione's shock at her boyfriend's risqué comment, he shifted his hands from her hips to the broom handle and kicked off with full force. Hermione's blood-curdling scream echoed out into the coming night as they took off into the sky, followed by her boyfriend's hysterical laughter.