In the middle chamber of Draco's apartments was a modest, but tightly packed dimly lit library. It was there that Hermione searched for anything she could find related to binding magic and ancient pureblood customs. There was a particular piece on muggle-borns that caught her eye. "A History of Muggle-borns in Europe." She read aloud, running her finger along the book's spine.
Hermione grabbed the book and settled into the green velvet couch in the center of the room. Her eyes were heavy, and her body was sore, but she craved as much information about her new circumstances as she could get her hands on. She yawned and cracked open the dusty old book with every intention of finishing it, however she didn't make it past the first two pages before she started drifting off to sleep.
A ghostly shiver caused Hermione's eyes to flutter open, and she looked up at the large circular skylight in the middle of the library. It was nighttime. She watched in awe as several stars sparkled brightly against a black abyss. The simple beauty of it made her realize just how much she missed the night sky. A small smile formed on her lips and before she knew it, she was drifting off to sleep again.
The next thing Hermione knew, she was awakened by the sensation of being lifted. Her eyes slowly cracked open as her head came to rest on Draco's warm chest as he carried her from the couch to the bedchamber. He then gently set her on the bed and covered her with the warm blankets that were extra toasty from the heat of the fireplace. She watched, brown eyes transfixed, as he peeled his clothes off and slipped into bed with her.
For a moment she was afraid to move as her head raced. What was he doing? She was keenly aware of how repulsed he was by her. What happened earlier was necessary to forge the contract and that was it. Why on earth would he want her in the same bed as him ever again?
Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt his hard body rest against hers. "Draco." Hermione's voice quivered in the darkness. His first name sounded so foreign on her lips.
She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck and her body stilled. "Shhh," He cooed. She felt a strange sense of security when his strong arm curled around her waist, pressing her securely into his body.
"I still remember the first time I saw you," He confessed in a low voice as he held her.
Hermione's heart beat wildly in her chest. "On the train?" She asked, remembering the looks of distain he had given her.
"No." He whispered in the darkness. "Not the first time I noticed you. The first time I really saw you."
Hermione's dark brow burrowed. She wasn't quite sure she understood what he meant.
"It was fourth year," He told her, soft lips grazing her neck. "Victor Krum walked into the Yule Ball with you on his arm and I never envied any man more in my life."
Hermione turned to look him in the eyes unable to believe a word he uttered.
"You're lying," the words seemed to leave her lips on their own accord. He didn't seem hurt or offended by her accusation.
"The truth is Granger," He said, silver eyes focused on her frowning mouth. "I've wanted to possess you since the moment that clueless weasel left you crying at the foot of the stairs."