Draco Malfoy's eyes fixed on the circled date on the calendar in front of him.

It was nearing the end of his Hogwarts education. He was one week away from gaining access to his trust fund, entering the world without the influence of his parents, and complete and utter freedom.

His final year of school had given him a taste of a future he had never known he wanted.

As Head Boy, he lived with the Head Girl in their own dorm, and as the year went by, he found himself growing more preoccupied with her. Both her irritating disposition and frizzy hair had tamed over the years. She was infuriating still, but now it was in a way that he found enticing. Her wit and banter drew him to her. He enjoyed hearing the stories she shared from her Muggle childhood, and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed how well she filled out her Muggle jeans and fitted tops on the weekends.

It wasn't as if he hadn't had options for witches over the years and he hadn't actually intended to shrug off every other witch in favour of spending all his time with Hermione Granger.

It took him by surprise, the moments collecting day by day until one day she looked up at him with her big brown eyes, and he had to stop himself from pinning her against the wall and snogging her senseless. The more he was around her, the less he could tolerate the loud and gossiping witches in the Slytherin Commons. The pair had settled into a routine together, taking most breakfasts in their personal kitchen and working late nights on Head Duties.

The end of the year was nearing, and he still hadn't found the right way to tell her he wanted something more—anything more.

"Honestly, mate, he taught me everything I know," Blaise swore. "Just give him ten minutes, that's all you'll need to pick up any witch you could ever want."

Draco stood in the doorway of Theo Nott's room. Adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, he pushed down the regret building in his stomach. Theo watched him with a grin as he stepped to the side to allow Draco space to enter.

"I knew you would accept my offer. I've found I'm quite the philanthropist these days, and today I'm willing to bestow all my wisdom on you. Blaise told me about your predicament, and I am here to help. If you follow my instruction, you'll have all the witches falling at your feet."

"I don't need all the witches," Draco insisted, following behind Theo and dropping his bag on the floor. "I'm just looking at the one right now."

Retrieving his wand from his pocket, Theo tapped it against a scroll that was dangling in the air. The scroll unraveled and a chart spread out in front of them.

Draco's mouth fell open. "Is that a—"

"Yes. If you take anything from this lesson, it should be the following." Theo pointed to a spot on the upper half of the chart. "This is the clitoris. It is simultaneously higher and lower than you expect it to be. You can rub it, flick it, suck it, lick it. Whatever you do, she will love it. I cannot emphasize this enough— do not stray from the clit , Draco."

Covering his laugh with a cough, Draco nodded along, trying to keep his expression serious.

"If you figure this out, she'll be putty in your hands, I swear it." With an impatient wave of his hand, Theo asked, "What are you doing? Write this down! This is NEWT level shite. If you go out into the corridor right now and start asking blokes where the clit is, I bet you a hundred Galleons they'd all be wrong."

As Draco drew a rough sketch of the chart in front of him on the back of his Astronomy essay, he made sure to circle the clitoris for future reference.

Tapping his quill against his paper, Draco hesitated before asking, "But, mate, that's…you know—that's after she's already willing to sleep with me. What's the step right before this one? I can't just walk up to her and start stroking her clit."

"I wouldn't advise that, unless she's into it—some witches like that kind of thing. All things considered, the statistics on that approach are not in your favour. I'd recommend starting out with some romance."

Leaning his head back dramatically, Draco groaned, "I have to learn romance too? I just learned about the clit."

"Hey, I'm just saying that most witches want at least a little effort before they're willing to drop their knickers. I'd start out with flowers—rose petals are a must. Then you move on to phase two, maybe some chocolate covered strawberries—"

Draco made a face. "Strawberries?"

"The sexiest of all fruit," Theo replied before continuing. "If possible, be nice to her friends; if her friends like you then you're golden. If none of that works, get her a stuffie—like a teddy bear—or maybe write her a poem. Really, it's up to your imagination."

"You're telling me this actually works?"

"A hundred percent success rate," Theo boasted with confidence.

Frowning, Draco looked down at his paper before scrawling, rose petals, strawberries, befriend her friends, bear, poem.

"Now, when are you going to tell me the name of this witch? Before or after she's bouncing on your cock?" Theo grinned, wiggling his brows.

The image of Hermione's tits bouncing in front of him as she rode him overtook his imagination. Feeling his face heat, Draco began packing away his papers into his bag. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd be lost in a clit-less wasteland like the rest of the blokes." Theo patted him on the shoulder with a sympathetic shake of his head.

"Wouldn't that be a travesty. Thanks for your help, mate. I didn't even know where to begin." Draco started towards the door.

"You're leaving already? I haven't even shown you how to remove a bra without using your hands. Your new witch will thank me."

Stopping mid-stride, Draco looked back at him. "I think I'll start with step one first... and she's not my witch yet."

Flicking his wand, the chart rolled back up and Theo snagged it from the air. "If you follow my advice, she will be soon."

Skepticism filled Draco as he sprinkled the rose petals around the floor of the Head Dorm. He had chased down a House Elf and asked for the petals from a hundred roses. When he was done scattering them in front of her room and through the living space, he stepped back to admire his work.

Hermione had gone to bed early the night before, and Draco knew that she was an early riser so he had to wake up before sunrise to set up the room. He hoped that Theo was correct, that she would wake up and see the rose petals and recognise his intentions to court her.

After twenty minutes of waiting on the sofa for her to come out for breakfast, his blinks grew longer until his eyes drifted shut.

The sound of wheezing woke Draco, and he knew instantly that something was off. He sat up on the sofa, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and looked over just in time to see Hermione staring at the rose petals in horror.

Her face, neck, and arms were covered in a bright red rash and she sneezed in rapid succession.

"Granger?" He jumped up from his seated position, his heart racing in panic at her expression.

"Oh god, where did these come from?!" Her voice sounded tight as she strained to take a full breath. "I'm allergic to roses!"

Vanishing the petals, he ran over to her. "What do I do?"

"There's a potion—wardrobe—orange."

Draco was already halfway into her room by the time she finished the fragmented sentence. He tried to ignore the open drawer filled with colourful knickers, some barely more than a scrap of fabric, as he snagged the vial filled with orange liquid and brought it back to Hermione.

After she downed the potion, he led her over to the sofa, letting his hand rest on her lower back as she focused on taking deep breaths. Much to his surprise, she leaned into his touch, letting her head fall onto his shoulder.

"Thanks, Malfoy." She mumbled; her eyes closed. "I haven't had a reaction that bad in so long, I froze. I'm lucky you were here."

"Don't mention it," he smiled softly. "I'm glad you were okay. I've never seen you turn that colour before.

She made a noncommittal noise. "I can't believe the House Elves gave us so many roses. They've brought them before in the bouquets for the table but it's usually one or two which hardly affects me."

Draco tensed at her words, realising that she hadn't made the connection that he was the one to lay down the petals this morning. Her breathing slowed, the air was warm and sweet against his arm as she slacked against his shoulder. After a moment, the softest snore came out of her.

She had fallen asleep on him.

Weighing his options, he decided to transfigure his nearby jacket into a blanket and settle it over them. Hermione nuzzled closer and before he could talk himself out of it, he tucked his nose into her hair. She smelled like vanilla and something floral. Inhaling again, he decided to rest his eyes for a moment. He was exhausted from waking up early for his failed seduction turned assassination attempt of his fellow Head.

Hermione was in his dreams, breaking down the door to his room and shimmying out of her uniform before his eyes. He felt his cock at full mast; his hips rocked forward, and he was met with the most delicious friction.

When Draco regained consciousness, he was alarmed to find that he was pressed up against a soft body that was radiating heat. His eyes adjusted to the light and he saw a pile of curls obscuring his view. Memories of the morning came back to him, the rose petals, the potion, the feeling of her on him.

At some point, they went from sitting to lying down and he was spooning her while they were both tucked under the transfigured blanket. His arm was slung around her waist and his left hand was dangerously close to her breasts. He shifted his hips, trying to move his straining erection away from her supple arse which he had been grinding into just minutes before.

"Mmm…Malfoy." Her voice was still soft and dream-like.

His breath caught in his throat.

She had said his name in her sleep.

Carefully removing his arm, he tried to prop himself up so he could at least pretend he hadn't been dry humping her while they slept.

Stirring, Hermione mumbled, "Don't leave." She wiggled and her arse collided with his crotch.

Her entire body froze. "Oh," she breathed.

He felt his face and neck heat up as he scrambled into a standing position.

"I'm sorry—the potion makes me sleep for hours," she rambled, smoothing her hair down, her eyes fixed on the floor. "It always happens, my mum used to joke I could sleep through the end of the world."

Nodding—at what he wasn't sure—he managed to say, "I'm glad you're feeling better, Granger," before retreating to his room to take care of the problem in his trousers.

Though the first tip from Theo had not gone exactly to plan, Draco still felt that he made progress with Hermione. In their entire year of living together, they had never fallen asleep together. He crossed off the item in the list and moved on to the next.

Strawberries .

It wasn't until Draco was sitting at the table in their small kitchen with a large bowl of strawberries in front of him that he realised that Theo never told him what to do with the strawberries. Hermione had been absent for the rest of the day after their morning mishap, but he was not deterred.

He sat at the table, thumbing through his book until he heard the sound of Hermione's bedroom door opening. Trying to appear casual, he continued reading and ignored her as she approached the kitchen.

Selecting a ripe strawberry, he slowly lifted it up to his mouth, dragging the fruit across his lower lip before digging his teeth into it, feeling the juice coat his lips. Any minute now, she would see him and dive across the table, unable to resist his allure with sensual fruit.

"Got any big plans for after we leave Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, snagging a container from the cupboard, completely unaffected.

Damn it.

Swallowing the remains of his strawberry, he replied, "I'm applying to train at St. Mungos to be a Healer."

Prying off the lid and retrieving a blueberry muffin, she fought back a smile. "Speaking as your most recent patient, I would highly recommend your services. I daresay you'd have a future in it."

They made eye contact and he took the opportunity to bite into another strawberry, hoping the first had been defective. Despite his best attempts, she turned towards the portrait to leave, muffin in hand.

"Well, I'm going to Hogsmeade with Ginny today, but maybe I'll see you later tonight?" she asked, glancing back over her shoulder.

He nodded in response, too busy glaring at the bowl of strawberries as if they were to blame for his failure.

Sighing, Draco shoved the parchment back into his bag and scanned the tables in the library around him.

Befriend her friends.

Fucking Theo and his instructions. It wasn't that it was bad advice in general, it was that in this instance 'friends' meant the Weasleys and Potter. Because Draco would rather lick the underside of a Blast-Ended Skrewt than befriend a Weasley, he decided to take the easier route.

His feet dragged with every step as he continued the path across the room towards his destination. Stopping just in front of the table, he watched as Harry Potter's head raised, his eyes meeting Draco's in confusion.

"Potter."

After a beat Potter replied, "Malfoy."

Giving a curt nod, Draco turned and made his way out of the library, crossing the item off his list as he walked.

Success.

Bear.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Draco muttered under his breath, dismissing the owl that provided him with a receipt that the teddy bear he ordered for Hermione had been delivered to the Head Dorm.

He walked the long path from the Owlery back to the portrait of a witch and wizard riding horses through a meadow.

"Enchanting," he drawled out the password, stepping through the portrait as it swung open.

Hermione was standing just on the other side of the entrance, her hands covering her mouth in horror. "I'm so sorry! Was this yours?"

Draco followed her line of sight across the room to piles of stuffing and a massive decapitated bear head which laid on the ground next to the sofa. He hadn't paid attention to the size of the bear in the catalogue but in hindsight, thirty Galleons did seem rather expensive for a stuffie.

The teddy bear in question towered over Hermione, over three times her height even without the head.

"What happened?" he asked, fighting back the urge to laugh at the look on her face.

Her hands shifted to hold the sides of her head as she looked at the piles of teddy bear innards around her. "I came back from my day with Ginny and the room was dark, and I couldn't find you, and then I heard a pop and there was this massive looming shadow and I sort of…"

"Attacked it?"

"I mean," she looked over at him and snorted. "Oh my god. I did. I attacked the teddy bear."

Draco grinned, picking up the enormous head and turning it to her. "In your defense, he does look pretty intimidating."

"Don't make me look into his eyes; what if he had a family?"

"Oh, he absolutely had a family—I'll bet he volunteered to help with the downtrodden and spent his weekends sewing clothes for orphans." He placed the head in the lap of the bear and the entire body fell over.

Hermione laughed so hard she snorted again, and the sound warmed in Draco's chest. "Oh my god, I'm a monster."

"Merlin, Granger, this isn't France. You can't just go on a beheading spree." He belly-laughed, shaking his head at her.

"Watch out, Draco, you might be next," she teased, dragging her finger across her throat.

"Generations of Malfoys have successfully avoided beheadings and I won't be the first to fall victim. The shame would haunt me forever."

"You'd never see me coming." Hermione winked, turning on her heel and heading into her room.

It wasn't until her door clicked shut that he realised she had called him Draco.

The final days of school came and went with absolutely no luck. Though he saw and spoke with Hermione every day, she was infuriatingly immune to his seduction techniques. He wondered if Theo's method only worked on Pureblood witches. He had followed every instruction except for the last—Draco refused on principle to recite poetry.

It was his last night at Hogwarts and he had completely lost his patience.

After storming down to the dungeons and pounding on Theo's door, Draco waited a beat before using the override password to enter the room. Lighting the room with his wand, Draco picked up a nearby pillow and hurled it at Theo's sleeping form.

"What the hell?" Theo pulled his blanket over his head to shield himself from the light. "Draco?"

"Your bloody advice didn't work! A hundred perfect success rate my arse."

Sitting up abruptly, Theo threw the pillow back at him and he caught it with ease. "What did you do wrong? Obviously, you didn't listen if it didn't work."

"I did it all; the flowers, the strawberries, even the bloody bear! Nothing worked! Granger still—"

Choking on air, Theo slapped at his chest and looked at Draco in incredulity. " Granger ?! You tried this on Hermione Granger ?"

Faltering, Draco fiddled with the pillow in his hands. "You said any witch."

"Not Hermione Granger! That's for a normal witch, you know, the kind who cares about flowers and stuffies."

His brow furrowed. "Well, what do you do for a witch like Granger?"

"Fuck if I know!" Theo scoffed. "If I did, she'd be in my bed as we speak."

With a roll of his eyes, Draco tossed the pillow back onto Theo and left the room without turning off the light. Theo's sound of annoyance followed him back into the hallway connected to the Slytherin Commons.

As he entered the Head Dorm, Draco felt the air in the room shift. Hermione was sitting at the sofa with a piece of parchment on the table in front of her and she was staring at it with an odd expression.

"Hey Grang—"

"What is this?" she asked, her voice unnaturally high.

Walking over to meet her, he eyed the parchment in question. "That's my old Astronomy essay."

"I saw it on the counter by your bag and I thought you forgot to submit it, and I picked it up and saw this list on the back."

He stilled, hearing his pulse race in his ears.

"Granger, I—"

"What's the list for?"

His mouth was dry. "I…it's nothing. I just thought…I don't know."

Standing up, she walked over to him and took the paper back from his hands, reading aloud. "Rose petals, strawberries, befriend her friends, bear, poem."

The words caught in his throat as she took another step closer, dropped the list, and raised herself on the tips of her toes. She laced her hands behind his neck and pressed her soft lips to his. He wondered briefly if she could hear his heart hammering against his ribcage.

His hands landed on her waist and he pulled her flush against him, desperate for more of her touch as he slanted his lips against hers. She tasted like honey and raspberries, and he was drowning in her, refusing to break the spell by coming up for air.

She shifted and the hem of her blouse raised, exposing her stomach. He brushed his thumb across her heated skin and felt her shiver against him. His cock hardened at her reaction, straining the zipper of his trousers. When his bulge pressed against her stomach, she let out a soft whimper and her hands moved down from his neck to his chest, bunching his shirt in her fists. She backed herself against the sofa, pulling him down on top of her.

Their kiss broke and he looked at her, his chest aching at the sight of her lying beneath him with flushed cheeks and kiss bruised lips. He had wanted this—wanted her—for so long.

He wanted all of her.

Slotting himself between her legs, he captured her lips again, threading his hands into her hair. She rocked her hips into him and he lost any form of self-control as he ground against her shamelessly. Her hands tugged at the bottom of his shirt, and she paused their kiss just long enough to pull it up and over his head.

"Do you want to…" she searched his eyes with a question. "We can go to my room?"

Unable to form words, he simply nodded with far too much enthusiasm and helped her up from the sofa. They hurried across their dorm into her bedroom—the distance had never felt so great as she took his hand and led him into her bed.

He stumbled over his own feet as he kicked off his shoes and socks. With a cheeky grin, she brushed her hand against the bulge beneath his trousers. A low purr rumbled in his chest and he half tackled her onto the bed, finding himself between her legs again. His hand drifted up her thigh and under her skirt, his fingers digging into the curve of her arse. As he nibbled on her bottom lip, she lifted her hips up and pressed her core against his prominent erection, grinding herself onto it.

His eyes rolled back in his head and he thought he might die before he ever got to touch a breast.

"Is this—is this okay?" he asked, resting his hand at the hem of her blouse.

Arching her back in response, she wiggled until he was able to tug her shirt up and over her head. His eyes fell down to her covered breasts, and he traced the curve of the material with his thumb. Impatient, she reached behind herself and unsnapped the bra and his mouth fell open as she slipped the straps down her shoulders, tossing the useless garment onto the floor next to the bed.

A small hand brushed his cheek and he realised he had been gaping at her chest for several seconds. He looked back up at her and swallowed hard when his hand made hesitant contact with her breast; it filled his palm and he watched her as he gave an experimental squeeze. Her eyes closed and she made a soft keening noise, arching her chest up towards him. Encouraged by her reaction, he brushed a thumb over her nipple, staring in amazement as it pebbled beneath his touch.

Her hips rotated against his, teasing him with how much fabric still lay between them. Dipping his head, he placed a kiss on the soft skin of her neck, intoxicated by her perfume as he sucked and nipped at the flesh. The vibration of her moan tickled his lips and he smiled against her the column of her throat.

Now was the moment, he had prepared for this—he had the diagram and everything.

Shifting his weight onto one side, he nudged her thighs further apart, letting his hand slide back under her skirt. Finding her core, he curled a single finger against the damp fabric of her knickers. She bucked her hips forward, following his hand and he repeated the motion, drawing a moan from her.

Lower yet higher , he reminded himself as he searched for the bundle of nerves.

Hermione suddenly gasped and thrust her hips upward, and he knew he found it. Taking the opportunity, he kissed her, slipping his tongue between the seam of her lips as he stroked the spot with the pad of his finger, drinking in her whimpers like a fine wine.

"More, I need more," she pleaded, and he knew in that moment he would give her anything if she asked.

His hand fumbled around her skirt, searching for a zipper. She bit back a smile, letting him struggle for several beats before she undid a clasp on the side, raised her hips, and pushed down her skirt and knickers in one movement.

The air left his lungs.

Hermione Granger was completely naked and under him, his cock twitching at the sight.

Noticing a look of hesitation in her eyes, he shifted above her, cupping her cheeks with his hands and kissing her with everything he had. "Perfect," he murmured. "You're perfect."

Her cheeks flushed and he began to trail kisses from her neck down to her breasts, worshipping her with every press of his lips. With more confidence this time, he spread her legs apart, his hand returning to her core. His finger dipped into her heat, feeling her stretch around him. Pushing down a groan, he slid back into her, curling his finger slightly as he continued. He sat back on his knees and with his other hand, he found his way back to her clit; he swirled his thumb in a circular motion and watched as her mouth fell open in ecstasy.

"Oh god." She rocked up against him, her hands clutching his shoulders.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

Adding a second finger to his ministrations, he watched her chest rise and fall with each breath. Pumping his fingers into her, he slowly increased the pace until she writhed beneath him. In that moment, he craved her release more than his own.

He needed to feel her come on his fingers, to know that she wanted him as badly as he needed her.

Her thighs began to tremble and her breathing grew ragged. He focused on her clit with his thumb, stroking his fingers in and out of her.

She cried out his name and he felt her clamp down greedily on his fingers as he memorized the look on her face while she came down from her high.

The air in the room stilled for a moment, and they looked at each other smiling.

"Wow," she breathed.

"Wow," he repeated in agreement.

Her eyes trailed down to his tented trousers, holding back his now painfully swollen erection. The corner of her mouth curved up and she slipped out from under him, rotating her body until she was pinning him to the bed.

She leaned over him to grab her wand from her nightstand.

"What are you—"

The shock of air hit him as he was relieved of his trousers and pants with a wave of her wand. He loved those trousers, but couldn't care less about anything else at that moment.

His cock stood proudly in the air, a bead of precum settled at the top. She stared at it long enough that a nervous energy settled within his chest. Before he knew what was going on, she took his cock in her mouth.

A hiss of surprise left him as he fought the overwhelming urge to thrust upward.

"Hermione—" He struggled to form any other coherent word.

She looked up at him with wide eyes, the head of his cock still obscured by her lips, and he nearly finished right then.

"I need you," he rasped, guiding her mouth off his cock and pulling her up to meet him.

He tasted himself on her lips until she broke the kiss, shifting onto her knees and straddling his hips. Resting the palms of her hands on his chest, she centered her core at the tip of his cock.

He had a brief moment of clarity through the haze. Swallowing, he asked, "Do you—I don't have—"

"The potion," she panted, dragging her folds along the tip of his erection, causing his mind to go blank. "I'm on the potion."

"Oh, thank Merlin."

Hermione lowered herself down inch by inch, and he forgot how to breathe. Draco watched in awe as his length disappeared inside her, enveloped into intoxicating heat.

"Fuck." He tossed his head back, trying to focus on counting the number of grooves in the ceiling and not the sensation of her tight cunt squeezing him like a vice. "Fuck, fuck, fuck ."

"Draco." Her breathy moan pulled his attention back to her, his eyes snapped open and he gripped her hips like a lifeline, as if each squeeze of her cunt was was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

The sway of her hips as she lifted and lowered herself on his cock had him mesmerized, and he couldn't look away for all the gold in the world. Hermione's breasts rocked with each motion and he lifted his hands to her chest, palming them as he moved his hips in tune with her rhythm. Her breathing grew heavier, and her head tilted back as she increased her pace, balancing her weight against him as she let out a soft moan.

Remembering himself, he gripped her thigh with one hand and navigated the other to her clit, rubbing firm circles into the swollen nub. Her hands tensed on his chest, fingers curling and her nails digging into his skin as breathy pants escaped her lips. She leaned in to kiss the underside of his jaw, and he turned his head to catch her lips, threading his fingers into her hair as he thrust upward into her, capturing whimpers with each swipe of his tongue and press of his lips.

He mumbled a string of praises against her lips, barely registering his own words, "You're incredible—perfect—I didn't think—gods, Hermione, I want you to be mine ."

She pressed her forehead against his, breathing into him as she rode at an erratic pace. "Draco, please," she begged; the words sang in his chest. "I'm so close."

Pulling her lips back to his, he murmured, "Come on, Hermione."

Suddenly, her breath caught and she tightened, the walls of her cunt gripping him with a relentless force that felt so much stronger than it had around his fingers. She trembled above him, her orgasm washing over her in waves, and he watched in wonder as she came undone. She fluttered around him, blood pounding in his ears as his vision blurred and he pulsed inside her.

She tucked her face tucked between his neck and shoulder, and he threw his head back against the pillow, stroking her hair as he caught his breath.

Untangling herself from him, Hermione fell beside him on the bed.

"Did you mean it?" she asked, her voice quiet. "You want me to be yours?"

He stilled next to her. "I—yes. It was terrible timing, I know, and I should've—"

"I'd love to." Her lips spread into a giddy smile, and it took a moment before her answer processed in his mind. "Truth be told, I've fancied you most of this year. I thought you weren't even interested in me until I saw the list."

Her admission knocked the wind out of him. "I'm an idiot ."

Propping herself up on her elbow, her grin widened.

"What?" he asked, unable to resist returning her smile.

"I never did get that poem."

"Oh, you don't want my poetry, trust me." He dragged a hand across his face.

Tossing him a cheeky wink, she replied, "Oh, I absolutely do. That being said, you really are a quick study."

A laugh bubbled up in his chest. "What are you talking about? I failed everything, spectacularly—nearly killed you once."

"I wasn't talking about the rose petals." She smirked. "I saw the diagram."

"Granger, if you never mention that again, I'll recite a thousand poems for you."