Hello, new readers! :)

Thanks to my wonderful Alpha, Beta and best friend Lunarlyy. Only slightly hate you for getting me hooked on Dramione.

Grammerly was my word processor so hate it not me!

I own nothing related to Harry Potter.

A word to older readers: I have updated this chapter to flow a bit smoother, and fall more in line with the writing of the rest of the story. All of the content is the same, only words and POVs have changed. Nothing drastic.

"Ow! Son of a..." she cried, shoving her index finger into her mouth, attempting to cool the heat and stave the blood flow.

Hermione sighed in frustration, more with herself than anything else. It wasn't working, and she couldn't understand why. Maybe she was saying the spell wrong? Her past two attempts had both ended in a burning and bloody finger. She supposed it was not typical for a young witch to cast an ancient ritual correctly on the first try.

She gazed down at the book to her left, Vinculum Terrae, with ire as she reread the passage about proper casting technique with no surprise. The book offered little; just the symbol one should paint with a blood-soaked finger and a chant. She had memorized it a month ago when she found the text in the library.

She had been investigating dark magicks as a precaution in the restricted section one rainy night when the book practically jumped off the shelf. It had startled her somewhat, no one around to blame. But as she read through the small work, a sheer delight had grown at the find.

"Okay," she breathed. "Relax. You can do this. You have to do this."

She rolled her shoulders slowly, craning her neck side to side to release some constrained tension. Hermione inhaled three deep breaths, eyes closed, as she sought to center herself. A soft breeze blew through the clearing, and the flames from the candles littered about the clearing she sat flickered as she shivered. All the warming charms in the world couldn't stave off an October's night chill in the hills of Scotland.

Even though she had yet to successfully cast, she could feel the earth's magic all around her. It was Samhain, and as luck would have it, a clear night sky with a brightly shining full moon. The grounds seemed to glow under the moon's beams, the luminous dancing across the Black Lake, giving it an appearance of still glass. It was quite ethereal tonight, even though it was the coldest night of the school year thus far. Even the Forbidden Forest was calm, a comforting stillness about the trees as its inhabitants took the evening to pay homage to their dead.

Although Hermione would be much warmer if she weren't nearly stark naked. But the author had been quite clear: no clothing.

Hermione had been in this clearing for nearly two hours now, a clearing she found just last week trying to avoid Ron and Lavender.

She had conjured candles and scattered them thoughtfully around the space, as the book demanded. Six of which sat solo in each corner of the hexagram she had drawn on the ground, directly at the center the clearing. It was a rather elaborate casting circle, holding intricate lines that connected each point of the hexagram. There was a large outer ring surrounded by small shapes indicating the waning and waxing of the moon.

The book also commanded casters to conjure flowers meant as a symbol of the blessings they wished to receive this year. It took Hermione an hour to conjure enough flowers to cover the clearing from edge to edge, and filling the trees around her. Strands of flower-laden vines hung from all of the branches once her wand dropped, like natural curtains shielding her from view.

There was a small cascade of water from the Black Lake at her back, which fell into a shallow pool that flowed slowly further into the forest. In the peacefulness of the clearing, the stream added relaxing background static. The book indicated the most potent earth for the binding ritual runes, drawn all over her body, would come from water. So she had taken mud from the stream and covered herself in runes that matched each flower's meaning.

She had done everything the book instructed, save for removing her knickers. But she was confident the earth wouldn't rebuke her for holding a bit of humility while chaining herself to it.

"Alright, Hermione. You can do this. For Harry."

She sighed, stretching the last bit of tension from her neck before training her wand to her index finger, reopening the small cut made earlier. Blood began to pool on her fingertip. Blood that had been deemed dirty. Blood that had incited the war she was thrust into as a child.

"Alligatus ego anima mea usque ad terram. Alligatus ego ad te animam meam," she spoke boldly, trailing her bloody fingertip against the ground anew, drawing an upside-down triangle, a line jutting through it just under halfway up.

Again, a soft glow lit the clearing she was in, and the burning in her finger started.

"Oh, bloody hell," she lamented, again pushing her finger into her mouth to stop the heat and blood. A low chuckle from the trees startled her, and she abruptly stood, wand leveled to where the noise had come.

"It's not going to work, Granger," a lazy drawl she knew all too well apprised her as none other than Draco Malfoy passed through the flowers into her clearing.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy? Stalking me again? Shouldn't you be at the dance or holed away somewhere?" Hermione growled, her wand pointed directly at his chest.

"Don't flatter yourself. I saw the light from the astronomy tower. I had to come to check it out. I am a prefect, after all," Malfoy barked behind a laugh.

"Yeah, right! You haven't done your duties all year. Why are you here?" Hermione's voice raised with irritation. "Just leave me alone, go back to the celebrations."

At this moment, the entirety of the Hogwarts student body was in the Great Hall, enthralled by bats shrieking overhead and dazzled by carved pumpkins large enough to fit four first years inside. Dumbledore had undoubtedly outdone himself this year. Three weeks ago, he had announced a Halloween dance to happen after their annual feast, fit with costumes and all. And with vast rumbles of excitement, the students had dolled themselves up, seeking a bright spot in what was increasingly becoming a bitter world.

"No. Moreover, you need me."

Taken aback by his abruptness, Hermione lowered her wand and raised an eyebrow to challenge him. It was only then that she noticed he wasn't staring at her face. Her whole body flushed from embarrassment, and with an utter swiftness, she threw her hands up to shield her chest.

"Pig! Get out of here, you git!"

Draco Malfoy. Malfoy. Was the first wizard to see her naked. Gods, if her first-year self could see her now. She'd be absolutely abashed to know that dreamy Draco Malfoy, bad boy extraordinaire, was the first man to see her naked. She felt her body heat as his captivated eyes roamed her body and shivered a bit as another breeze blew through.

Plastering his signature smirk on his face, Draco drawled, "I'm not the one who is exposing herself for the entire grounds to see. Relax, not the first pair of tits I've seen." His smirk grew wider at that. "Though can't say I pegged you for a black knickers kind... Bloody hell, Granger, I was joking!" She had taken his distracted state and fired a stinging hex at him.

"Leave, Malfoy!"

"No! Granger, you need me."

"I could never need you, you git. Go away!"

Draco rolled his eyes and marched further into the clearing toward her. She took three paces back before nearly knocking over a candle behind her.

"You do need me, Granger. That ritual you're trying to do - blood magic might I add -" he raised his eyes to hers finally as he began taking off his suit jacket, unbuttoning his shirt, "is a two-person rite." He hung both articles of clothing from an exposed tree branch and turned back to her.

Hermione's mouth fell open slightly at the sight in front of her. Malfoy was undoubtedly no longer that pointed faced ferret he had been in their fourth year. He had matured into his features, his body leaned out from Quidditch, and she noticed his hair was shaggier than it had ever been. His pale skin shone in the well-lit clearing, making him look like he walked straight off of the etheric plane.

She wasn't blind, she knew he was fit. Very fit. She'd seen how other girls fawned over him, especially that pug-face Parkinson. And Hermione had staunchly refused to see the appeal. But seeing him here, exposed, raw, made her head dizzy.

He continued his languid trek into her circle and began unbuttoning his pants. Hermione's mind kicked into overdrive, and she howled, throwing her hands out in front of herself as a signal to stop.

"No!" she squeaked. Draco's hand froze on his zipper as he stared at her. "There's nothing in my book about this being a group spell!"

"Ritual, Granger. This is a ritual, and it most certainly involves more than one person. My parents do this every year. Didn't you wonder about the wording? Doesn't sound like a simple spell for an individual, does it?"

"Your parents do this spe... ritual? It's dark magic?!" She stated, stunned, dropping her hands to her sides. Her voice grew with every word she spoke, the implications of what she had been trying to do invading her senses.

Of course, it was dark magic! She had to use her blood to make the ritual craft. What had she been thinking just trusting a book that had launched itself at her? And it hadn't crossed her mind the words weren't for an individual caster. She had been blinded by what the ritual had to offer. She hadn't cared.

"Relax, Granger. It's a binding ritual, not murder. The Black family has performed this binding for many generations. It started centuries ago, long before they became blood prejudice arseholes and forgot tradition," he jeered. "Though, some members of the family still find it sacred. My mother does this rite every year," he continued as he unzipped and removed his pants, sending them to hang with the remainder of his clothing. He had moved within an arm's reach of her. "The runes," he studied them for a moment, "mud from the stream?"

All Hermione could do was nod as he moved to the brook, extracting the same earth she had used, printing runes on his body. She couldn't help but stare as he wrote runes for power, fidelity, strength of character, and intelligence all over his body. Very similar to the runes she had chosen for herself.

He wandered back near her, a touch of mud in his hand, staring at her chest. She felt heat dance across her body, and a familiar feeling settled in her lower gut. As he approached, she made to cover her chest again.

"No, don't," he whispered, and she felt her body shivered at the hushed tone, her arms fell limp.

His gaze was heavy on her as he studied the rune on her chest, took a portion of mud, and filled the same empty spot on his body with an identical rune: love. Amazed by his actions, she hadn't heard him address her.

"Granger," he said, waving his hand in front of her face, and she flushed with embarrassment.

"Right well... any flowers you would like to add?" Hermione asked, gesturing around the clearing.

"You're letting me stay?" He breathed with what appeared to be surprise and disbelief.

"I don't seem to have a choice," she replied, looking up through her lashes at him.

She knew better than to trust him. Harry had been concerned about his behavior all year. But what could she do? She had failed three times trying to do this ritual on her own, and she needed this power and wisdom to help Harry in the coming months. To be able to protect her parents if the dark targets them.

And Draco Malfoy, prince of darkness, was the only one nearby to help.

"No, you don't. You need me," Draco drawled, a somewhat carnal smirk growing over his lips. His voice was so deep, and it made goose flesh needle over her skin. "We'll have to remove our underwear," he said as he turned his head away slightly. "Runes all over the body include there."

She could have sworn he blushed when he said it. A short chuckle escaped her mouth at the idea of sex-god Draco Malfoy blushing about his manhood. Wait. Had she just giggled?! Draco Malfoy had turned her into a simpering bimbo while he was blushing about genitals in front of her. What was this world coming to?

"I'll hold the mud, you first." He extended his right hand out to her, keeping his head turned to the side, looking forward to giving her a bit of privacy.

"Why me first? We should just do it together." He choked. Actually choked from her words.

"I, uh... I need a minute."

"Well, we don't have all night, Malfoy. It's already after ten, and the dance will be over at midnight!"

"I need a minute, dammit!" His voice was raised, and it cracked with sheepishness. "I'm not the one who was out here naked, stretching, and moaning while sucking her finger! I need a minute."

His whole face was red, but Hermione couldn't help but smirk. He had been watching her, and she had aroused him with little effort. Not bad for a mudblood.

Though, Malfoy hadn't called her that since their third year. Genuinely, outside of hexing her teeth larger in their fourth year, he had left her mostly alone. And that hex hadn't even been meant for her. Maybe a broken nose was all he needed to see a bit of reason. Her smirk grew more full at the memory of her knuckles crunching his face.

She took her time, shimming her knickers down and chucking them away into his line of sight. He snapped his eyes shut and swallowed thickly, and she felt her face heat. She knew she should be extremely uncomfortable with the situation playing out in front of her, but she only felt exhilarated. Who said she couldn't have fun with this?

Hermione ran her finger down his forearm, scooping a bit of mud from his extended hand, and he inhaled sharply. She laughed a touch, taking a step backward and turning her back to him.

"Fine, turn around and face the other way to do yours." Draco followed his orders with no complaint, much to Hermione's surprise. "We can sit facing opposite each other. As there isn't anything in the book about needing a partner, I doubt we need to face and hold hands." She heard him chuckle lightly then sit down.

"Granger, you do know what happens after the ritual is complete, right?" He asked as she sank into a seated position.

"The book mentions something of euphoria. I imagine it must be like producing a corporal Patronus for the first time."

"Not exactly. More like huffing pixie dust. A bit mellower but certainly lasts longer."

"What?! It's being high?!" She shrieked, thrashing her head around to stare in shock at the back of his.

"Honestly, did you do any research before you attempted this?" He chuckled, looking over his shoulder at the look of embarrassment on her face. "It will be fine, Granger. You aren't doing drugs. This is… a spiritual thing. You'll have some deep reflection over the next few hours. Discover things that will make you happy and some that will undoubtedly drive you mad. But don't worry... I'll be here. I told you, you need me. Now pass me the book."

She was a bit taken back by his words. Obliging him, she turned her head back around and relinquished the book over her shoulder. He read for what felt like hours. Hours that let the fear and dread twist her stomach into knots. When he was done, he placed the book outside the circle and summoned his wand.

"Ready when you are."

Pressing forward through her anxiety, she placed her wand to her fingertip, muttering the incantation to open the same small cut for blood to pool. Malfoy did the same.

"On three."

Hermione took a deep, calming breath. She was about to attempt an ancient ritual with someone she should consider the enemy. His parents fought for Voldemort in the first war, and Harry was convinced Malfoy himself was a Death Eater. Would allowing someone on the opposite side an earthbound power be a safe idea? If his parents did this rite every year, they likely already had it. Others on his side probably did, too. And she, Harry, and the Order were at a disadvantage.

She had no choice but to attempt this now with him. She sighed, took another deep breath, and began to count.

"One... two... three."

In unison, they chanted: "Alligatus ego anima mea usque ad terram. Alligatus ego ad te animam meam."

Each ran their bloody fingertips against the ground, drawing an upside-down triangle with a line jutting through it just under halfway up.

This casting was different. Hermione could sense it from the moment her finger left the ground. One by one, the candles extinguished, although there was no wind at that moment. The circle beneath them glowed a soft green, and the runes on her body began to heat. It wasn't a searing pain; in fact, there was no discomfort at all. Her body simply felt warm. Something tingled across her skin and made her feel completely numb.

As quickly as it all started, it was over. The circle dimmed, the candles relit, Hermione's body began to cool, and she regained feeling in her fingers and toes.

"Did... did it work?" She whispered as she felt Malfoy lean back slightly so that the bare skin of their backs barely touched. He felt insanely hot and wholly frozen all at once. Hermione thought it may have been one of the strangest sensations she had ever felt.

"We'll know in a few minutes."

"How will I know?"

"Trust me. From how Mother explains it, we'll know."

Time dragged on for what seemed like hours, but she knew it had merely been seconds. She clenched her eyes closed and ground her teeth as flutters of warmth and chill coursed through her.

What was she supposed to feel? The circle had only shimmered a soft green. Surely it should have been brighter if the ritual had worked. The candles had gone out briefly, and that had to be a nasty sign. Nothing in the book said the candles would extinguish themselves.

Hermione felt a dread rise in her stomach. She had just completed a ritual she had researched very little with a man who supposedly wanted her dead. What if she had just stunted her magic? She was still developing. How could she have done this? What had processed her to forget about all her faculties?

Most importantly, had it worked? She didn't feel any difference. The only thing she could feel was the tingling on her skin and the sheer panic rising from deep inside her—what a bust. And to top all of it off, Malfoy had seen her practically naked.

"Granger, relax," Malfoy mumbled as he inched back, so their whole backs were now touching. "I can hear your mind going. I can feel how tense you are."

He was speaking so softly, so calmly that she was sure this wasn't the Malfoy she knew.

"Just breathe. I'm here."

She felt the pressure of his head against hers then. He repeated his soothing mantras until she acknowledged the tension trickle from her body, little by little.

"Open your eyes. Tell me what you see," Malfoy whispered, and it sounded like it was in her head and entirely around her all at once.

Her breath caught, and she gasped as she gradually opened her eyes. Everything had a light blue and white aura whirling around it. She could see lines of color, and they seemed as if they were dancing. She could hear the trees rustling around them as a cool breeze washed over the clearing, and she vowed she could see the wind. She felt light, more vibrant than she had ever felt before. Soft colors swirled around her as she lifted her hand to touch the trees, which seemed so far away yet so close.

"It worked," she heard, and this time it was whispered into her ear.

In her daze, Draco had turned around, slid forward, and wrapped his arms about her waist, drawing her tight and securing her in place. His legs were like a cage around hers, but she felt so safe. Like he was protecting her with all he could.

"I feel amazing. No wonder Mother does this every year."

"Mother... mother. Tell me about your mother," Hermione sang, which at any other moment would have embarrassed her. But right now, singing felt as right as his arms around her. She ran her fingers down his right arm slowly and felt him sigh.

"In a minute, Granger. Let the initial high pass," he laughed lightly into her neck.

They sat quietly in the ring, his arms encompassing her, her fingers tracing lightly up and down his right arm as time passed around them. She could feel Malfoy's sighs on her neck. The tingle was warm and calming, yet somehow dangerous. Like it was giving her life but taking from her just as much.

With her eyes closed, she savored the scenes that danced colorfully through her mind. Thought of her parents fluttered through her mind and her love for them. Memories of how happy they had been when she came home this summer asking to take a holiday and travel together invaded her. She thought of Harry and how unyielding and persevering he had become. How strong he had been after Sirius had passed. The images appeared so real as if they were fantasies that she was reliving through someone else's eyes.

When she forced open her eyes some while later, the colors were still there but slightly dimmer. The currents still flowed around her, but her head was a touch clearer.

"Malfoy?" She whispered as her fingers slowed their movements.

"Would getting dressed make you feel more comfortable?" He whispered into her neck.

"I think so, yes."

"Okay."

He sighed and uncoiled himself from around her then. She sat, rooted to her spot, as his presence disappeared from her space. A moment later, her clothes were dropped next to her.

Spinning to grab her clothes, she noticed him hindered in spot a few paces away, his fists clenched as he stared at the tree where his clothing hung. His broad back rose and fell as his deep inhales invaded his body. He seemed to glow more than anything else around him. It was truly breathtaking. His broad shoulders seemed to tower over her, and she couldn't take her eyes away.

"I can't bring myself to put that suit back on."

"Then don't."

The words she spoke didn't register as odd to hear; it was how she felt, she didn't want him to get dressed. She wanted to be able to stare at his body, see the scars he had, and see what no one else saw.

"No one else does see this, right?" she heard herself ask.

"No. No one sees me," Malfoy turned his head over his shoulder to gaze at her as his sad pitch lingered in the space between them. His eyes looked anxious, and she felt it deep within her soul.

She stood, fully exposing herself to him. Picking up her knickers, she slowly slid them on, and he didn't look away.

"There. Now we're even."

"We're not even. We'll never be even. You're… you're so much better," Malfoy spoke quietly, turning his head away from her, a dark laugh leaving his lips.

Hermione moved forward, which seemed so difficult at the moment. Her body felt light, but she had no control over it. But she had to get to him. She had to assure him she didn't think he was a monster, or that he was capable of all the evil people pushed at him. She had to convince him that she didn't agree with Harry that he was malevolent. Sliding her arms around his center, she laid her head on his back.

"You're not a monster. You mean something."

They stood there for minutes without saying a word. Eventually, Draco broke their silence.

"Mother is… exponentially better than any other human on this planet. She's beautiful yet powerful. Smart, caring, funny. Very much like you."

Her body flushed in response, but she didn't care why. Everything felt so right at this moment.

"I would like to meet her one day. Properly. After all of this."

"Sure, Granger. Whatever you say."

He turned in her arms then, their bodies face to face. He moved to cup her cheek, and for the first time all night, fear ran over his face. In a lapse of judgment, he had exposed her directly to the evil that marred his skin. He stopped, arm extended, reaching for her face as her eyes locked to his left forearm.

"Harry was right," she breathed, unable to think of anything else, and he flinched. He tried to pull his arm away, but she was quicker. Stepping back away from him, she pulled his forearm closer to her face.

"You're… a death eater."

Their eyes met, and she could see the tears growing in the corner of his eyes.

"No… no, I'm not," he insisted, the struggle to hold back from crying written on his face.

"This," she said, holding his arm higher for reference, "means you're a Death Eater." Her voice was calmer than she had anticipated.

"I didn't want it," his voice was quiet, almost meek as the words trembled past his lips. "I didn't want it."

"Then why do you have it?"

She wasn't yelling. She wasn't dropping Malfoy's arm and throwing a hex at him. She didn't feel anger. Why didn't she feel resentment? He was a Death Eater. She should be marching him up to Dumbledore to be carted off to Azkaban. Everything he and his family had done warranted it. But she couldn't bring herself to be mad. She couldn't feel hatred. The look on his face merely unsettled her soul.

"Tell me what happened."

At her words, he broke down. Tears fell unwillingly from his eyes, and he sank to his knees in front of her.

"He tortured her! He threatened to kill her!"

"Who, Malfoy? Who did he torture?"

"Mother!" And Hermione felt dense and angry at the same time. "He Crucio'd her, made me watch while he did it. Made me watch while her sister did it." His voice cracked with either rage or tears, she couldn't decide.

"Father failed, so someone had to be punished. He almost killed her!" Tears were flowing down his face, and Hermione could do nothing. "He said if I didn't take the mark or failed my mission, he'd kill her while he made me watch. And then kill me! I…" he hiccupped.

"I had no choice, Granger. I didn't want this. I don't believe in this. I'm not a Death Eater!" He was nearly screaming by the time he was finished.

Her body moved without her acquiescence. Or maybe she had willed it, it didn't matter. She stretched out and pulled Malfoy in, his face to her sternum, as he cried. He wrapped his arms around her midsection, drawing her impossibly closer as his tears wet the soft skin of her abdomen. They felt connected - that best way she could describe it.

"Shh," she echoed over, beginning to stroke his hair. "Shh… you're safe here. With me."

Draco stiffened at that. Pulling back somewhat, he gawked up at the woman he desperately clung to. She cupped his face, and it felt as sweet as his mother's touch. She smiled down at him, and he almost felt the despair leave his body.

Nothing had changed, but staring up at her in the moonlight, bathed in a soft red glow that made her eyes look like honey and her hair resemble milk chocolate waves, everything felt… fine. Draco leaned into her as she bent and kissed his forehead.

"I won't let him hurt you," Granger whispered as she wiped a tear from his cheek.

Who was this girl? How could she be so concerned after all the awful things he and his family had done to her?

"How can you… how can you want to protect me? I've hurt you. Made you cry."

"You're just like me - a child in a war that should have never been fought. Fighting a war that previous generations should have finished. You're just like me, Draco."

His heart felt like it was trying to escape his chest. Granger had called him Draco. Did she even realize? Based on her gaze, he assumed she did. Her eyes felt like they were burning a hole in his psyche. They were so fierce yet so soft. She was mad for him, not at him.

"What is your mission?"

The inquiry shook his soul. He couldn't tell her - a stark defender of the light - that he was supposed to murder her leader. To snuff out the Order before it honestly had a chance this time around. He shook his head, indicating he would not answer.

"How can I protect you if I don't know what will be fighting me?"

"I can't… I can't tell you," Draco's tears had slowed, but the dread was coming back.

"Draco, please. Let me help you."

He choked out a small sob and pressed himself back into her center.

"He… he wants me to kill Dumbledore…" he whispered, hoping that only he could hear.

She was silent for a long, drawn moment before he felt a tear on his face that wasn't his. He glanced up, and her face was red and dampened with her single shed tear.

"Did you curse, Katie?" she asked quietly, her eyes shut, hand motionless and yet so heavy on his head.

He started crying again, hopelessness filling his heart and spirit. The colors swirling around him had turned a deeper shade of red, and it was altogether frightening. She was going to hate him. Force him to leave her closeness and never speak to him again. If she didn't have him thrown in Azkaban.

"It wasn't meant for her..." his voice sounded wholly inadequate. "She wasn't supposed to touch it, just deliver it to him. I can't sleep thinking about her at Mungos. I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize. This isn't your fault… well, it is but…" Granger trailed off.

"I'm sorry…"

She hadn't moved, hadn't pulled away, and Draco couldn't understand why. Why she would hold him as he told her he was evil. Why she would allow his arms about her body as he cried.

A long while later, Hermione's hand shakily raked through his hair, along his neck, and down to his chin. Lifting it so that their eyes met, she spoke with such conviction, it nearly scared him more.

"We'll figure this out. But you can't hurt anyone else."

"He'll kill mother… I… I can't just stop."

"Promise me, you won't hurt anyone else."

Her orbs held a determination in them that he had only seen her give Potter and Weasel. It bred swirls of comfort and distress in his gut. Nodding meekly, he leaned his forehead against her sternum.

"I've certainly ruined the mood," he snorted through tears, moving to look up at her with a sad smile.

"I can still see the glow on your skin and the lights of your eyes. I'm sure we're fine," Hermione chuckled. The smile on her face as she gazed down at him was the sweetest thing Draco had ever seen. She made to move away, attempting to step backward, but he held her in place.

"A bit longer?" Draco questioned, and she moved back into him with a smile, running her fingers through his hair.

"It's softer than I'd imagined it."

"Think about my hair often, do you?"

"At least once a week," she said without missing a beat.

Draco chuckled quietly as he stood, running his hands up her sides as he rose. He remarked the goose flesh that tracked its way along her flesh following the pathway of his fingertips. Her skin felt warm and cold at the same time - one of the most pleasurable feelings he had ever experienced.

He pulled out his wand and cast a silent Tempus charm, which noted the time was only 11:15 p.m.

"It's only been 45 minutes?!" She exclaimed as she stepped back from his reach. Her face was flushed, and her voice shaking somewhat, as she put a bit of distance between them. "Merlin, I feel like we've had years' worth of conversation, and it's only been 45 minutes!"

"Get used to it, Granger. Won't be the last time you're overwhelmed by how much, or frankly, by how little time has passed tonight," he stated freely, laughing at the bewildered look on her face.

"I imagine we shouldn't go in until after the dance and rounds are over. So that leaves us here for a few more hours." She glanced at him then, stealing his signature smirk. "Think you can manage that much time with me?"

Her beautiful smirk shot straight to his groin. Gods have mercy on him, she didn't know how sexy she was. Walking up on her before she had attempted her final solo casting had been such a surreal experience. Seeing the one girl he always daydreamed about, fantasized over, thought of while he kissed others, sitting bare-chested sucking her finger, had felt like a dream.

"Not if you keep looking at me like that," he muttered so only he could hear. Hermione strolled back to the circle then and began conjuring heaps of pillows and blankets. "What are you doing?"

"Obvious, I should think. I don't want to stand all night, and the ground is hard. So," she pointed her wand, and another mound of pillows appeared, "pillows." She fell graceless into the heap and stretched, burrowing herself further into the warmth. Draco could do nothing but laugh.

"You're entertaining when you're inebriated."

"I'm entertaining all the time, thank you very much!"

"Yeah, sure, Granger. I'm sure you're just a box of kittens when exams are near."

"Well…"

"Or if you've been stiffed by Uncle Sev for the top grade in potions."

"Hey!"

"Or," and a pillow hit his face.

"I get it! I'm no fun!" She cried as she covered her face with a pillow.

"Oh, no. Is the great Hermione Granger brooding? Whatever will I do?" he muttered, chuckling softly, and falling into the cushion mound.

He detected her muffled voice through the pillow but couldn't make out the words.

"Oh, Granger, come on. No need to pout." At this, Hermione rolled over so that her back was facing him.

"Well, you asked for this," and without giving her any time to react, Draco gripped her side and tickled her. She wailed and flailed, while laughter burst from her mouth. It took everything in his power to not watch as her magnificent tits bounced about as she moved.

"Stop! Stop! Truce!" She said through loud shrieks.

"Remember this next time you try to sulk, love," he chuckled, relenting in his assault.

Hermione froze, gawking at him for a moment, eyes searching his face for what he didn't know. He thought she was going to say something, her mouth falling open once, twice, then closing quickly as her eyes moved to the sky.

"Tell me about your parents," he said, lying down and joining her to look at the bright twilight beyond.

"You want to hear about my parents? My muggle parents?"

"Yes, Granger. I asked, did I not?"

"Well… yes. Sorry," Granger cleared her throat. "My parents are wonderful. They were my first best friends before meeting Harry." He couldn't help flinching at Potter's first name, which is clearly noticed but chose to ignore. "I didn't make friends easily at primary school. Everyone made fun of me for being the weird girl who always had her nose in a book."

She paused then, and Draco felt the words wash over him. Even before she had come to Hogwarts, she had been the victim of cruel banter. And he had been the one to make it worse when she got here.

"So they were my only friends. We did everything together. They were relieved when Professor McGonagall showed up and told us that I am a witch. They had been scared when I showed accidental magic, but they did the best they could. They were so happy to have an answer that they didn't care what that answer was. It's hard, being away from them, but I know they're proud of me."

She paused again, her eyes searching the sky, and he noticed a slight shimmer against her irises.

"I did this for them, my parents. To be strong enough to protect them from anything that the Dark may try. And for Harry, too."

"They sound great, Granger, truly. I wish I knew what that kind of love felt like."

"I'm sure your mother loves you just as much as mine does me."

"Sure… but Mother wasn't allowed to show affection in public. 'Malfoy men aren't raised that way' Lucius would always scold her. Just once, I would have loved to hug her or to hold my mother's hand while she shopped."

He felt Hermione reach out, searching for his arm. Her fingers trailed down his forearm, and it made his entire body tingle. Her fingers met his, and she laced their fingers, squeezing quickly before letting go. His fingers felt like they were on fire as she sat, suddenly, gazing forward at the shallow stream in front of them.

She vaulted to her feet suddenly and shakily made her way toward the rippling stream. He sat, his eyes tracing her exquisite figure as she sauntered away. When her legs joined water, a low moan escaped her mouth that pierced the silence around them and sent desire further into his groin.

"Granger, what are you doing?

"I'm not sure. It was calling to me. It felt like I needed to be here. Right here," Granger stated, punctuating her statement by kicking the river up with her foot for emphasis.

"Or maybe you're just soaring on earth magic. Come back here."

"No."

His body hauled him upright then and toward the stream. He wasn't sure if he was doing this on his own or if the earth was pulling them together, but he didn't care. He treaded into the stream and playfully propelled a bit of water at her. As the beads landed on her skin, she gasped, sighing as her eyes closed, a sultry smile washing over her lips. And it went straight to his groin.

He couldn't take his sights off her. She was bathed in moonlight, the fractals he could see only served to further illuminate her innocent beauty. Her smile appeared to glow as she bobbed in the water, and he didn't want to look away. Throughout their fifth year, he had seen her grow into her womanhood. Find confidence in herself that he seemed to be the only one who knew she already possessed.

Here she was: the girl he thought he couldn't attain but couldn't imagine being without. Everything about her drove him crazy, and the more he watched her, the more he realized it wasn't dislike. Draco wouldn't have previously admitted that to himself. Still, every fiber of his being was screaming to take her and make her his.

Hermione bent down then and shoveled a handful of water. Standing, she held the water to her neck, leaned her head back, and let it wash down her front. She moaned deeply as she scooped another cupped handful and let the water wash over her again.

He couldn't help himself. The water felt like it split, allowing him swift access as he stalked toward her. He hesitated only a moment before he ran his hands over her, wet from the water. Her body felt like it ignited when his fingers danced over her skin, and her thick cry quivered around them.

Shakily, he cupped her breast, and her mouth fell open with a quiet moan. He palmed her breast with care but felt a wildfire spark when he rolled her pebbled nipple in his fingers.

As she pulled her head forward, her lidded gaze met his, and a fire burned within his gut. The next moment his mouth was on hers for a crashing kiss, and he felt her desire as her fingers clutched him. She was so willing, her body responding to every queue he gave. It felt commanding; he knew exactly what he wanted, and she was letting him take every bit.

Draco wrapped one hand around her body, cupping her arse and pulling her closer as the other entered her hair. Her hands slid slowly up his torso, trailing every line as if she were memorizing him. Her fingers stalled on his neck, and she ran feather-light touching across his collarbone.

His whole body shuddered. He'd kissed other girls, hell, his head had been between a few of their thighs, but it was nothing like this. Nothing like the way she felt against him; the way her skin caressed against his. He growled slightly, running his tongue against her lips. When she opened her mouth shyly, he drove his tongue in, deepening the kiss as she circled her hands about his neck.

Draco's other hand slid slowly down her body to grip the other side of her arse as their tongues mingled. He hoisted her effortlessly, and she responded, encasing her legs around his waist. The heat from her core near his cock made him impossibly harder with anticipation. Gods, this was the best moment of his life.

He paced from the water then, hunting slowly to their mountain of pillows as their chaste kisses became a touch more heated. Breaking the kiss, he placed Granger gently on her back and covered her body with his. She sighed deeply as her legs dropped open, allowing him access closer into her sex. He settled his hands about the sides of her body, leaning down and kissing her slowly, more passionately.

"Draco," she breathed, and he ground himself into her as the sensation of hearing his given name whined from her lips flowed through him. "Draco," she moaned, "I…"

He pushed himself up, gazing down at her. She had a concerned look on her face that made his heart stop. He had taken it too far.

"We can stop," he panted, running a hand over her cheek, cupping her face. Hermione leaned into his hand with a small sigh, closing her eyes.

"No. This… feels right," she whispered between them. "I just... I've never…" She brought a hand up and placed it softly on his.

"Me either… all the way," Draco admitted and kissed her sweetly. "Figure it out together?" He sought against her lips, and she nodded, capturing his lips for a searing kiss.

Leaning down on his forearm, he let a hand slide to her breast. As their kisses deepened again, he massaged her bust, paying special attention to her sensitive, pert nipple. When she broke their kiss with a moan, he took the opportunity to trail hot kisses down her neck, her collarbone, and chest until his lips met her opposite breast. His tongue danced across it, and he felt emboldened by the mews she made. He rolled his tongue around her nipple, biting it softly. At her small cry, he did it again.

Her head fell back with a moan, and he swore his cock was about to burst. She was so responsive to his touch, and his body felt like it was on fire. This was undoubtedly no snog in a dark alcove with a girl he merely wished was her. This was real; a fantasy come to life. And he'd make sure she enjoyed every moment. Make sure when they left this clearing, he'd be the only thing she'd desire.

He continued to kiss down her body until he reached her hip. Heartened, he bit lightly, and she rushed her hand through his hair with a tight pull.

"Again," she breathed, and Draco served, sink his teeth somewhat indelicately into her other hip. Hermione bucked slightly as her lusty moan saturated the air around them.

"May I take them off?" he whispered, rolling his tongue across the top line of her knickers.

She nodded, shyly, as he hooked his fingers in the band and slid them down her legs. She attempted to close her knees at his gaze, but he held them open.

"Beautiful," he whispered as he kissed one inner knee and then the other.

He'd done this before, but nothing compared to the sight of her pink folds. He wasn't sure if it was the swirls of color around them, the earth magic coursing through their veins, or his carnal need finally coming to life, but he couldn't resist.

Hermione eased her legs as he pressed hot kissing down each until his mouth was about her sex. He could hear her shuddered breaths, as her limbs quivered in his grasp.

"You're so wet for me, Granger," he muttered, running a slow finger up her slit, gently toying with her clit.

Draco trailed his tongue along her skin. When it met her center, Hermione's hands found their way to his hair again, pulling tightly as he flicked his tongue lightly against her nub. Her whole body was tingling, and he thought he could feel her pleasure penetrate his pores. Draco teased her clit purposefully as he circled his fingers against her opening. When he gently slid a finger inside of her, her hips bucked as she let out a primal moan.

"Oh, gods, Draco," she whimpered between her moans, and his fingers twitched inside her at the sound of his given name. Something he'd never get used to. He began to pump his finger in and out of her slowly, and her hips thrust a touch forward.

Draco took a moment to let her appreciate the feel of one finger before he gently slid a second inside her. She was so tight, he could feel her walls clenching as he pumped in and out. He opened his eyes and watched her as she started to come undone. Her body was shaking, her head thrown back, and he felt a surge of pride watching the Hermione Granger lose all her senses at his ministrations.

"Yes, Draco!"

He felt her walls clench around his fingers as he fucked her through the orgasm that rippled over her. Her fingers tightened in his hair as her other hand clutched her breast desperately as she rode out her waves of pleasure. Her legs twitching as her walls clamped against his fingers.

Slowing to a stop, Draco leaned back and licked his fingers clean of her. Her eyes were closed, a satisfied smile on her lips, and he felt his cock grow harder at how thoroughly he had been able to please her.

He removed his boxers, moved up her body, and settled himself between her legs. He tried not to act nervous. Act like this wasn't a moment he had dreamed of and would forever remember, but he felt his arms shake as he hovered over her. His cock pushed against her apex as he rocked a bit, groaning in the back of his throat as tides of desire coursed through him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Draco…" she begged, "I need you."

Capturing his cock in hand, he spread the tip through her folds, coating himself in her slickness. He lined himself up and slowly pushed the tip inside her. His nerves were on fire; he was utterly afraid, but the warmth of her slit seemed to soothe him. And make him purely fervent all in one.

"Tell me if it hurts."

"It doesn't hurt," she breathed, opening her eyes to gaze into his. Hermione's hands ran up his body and clasped around the back of his neck with a small smile. "You feel… indescribable."

Draco moved slowly, sheathing himself fully inside her as her face scrunched a bit with a whine. He groaned at the tightness, at her wetness, and let his eyes fall closed in concentration. He felt her hand cup his face and turned to kiss her palm. She was right - it positively was indescribable. It felt like he was meant to be here, that he fit just perfectly within her.

"I'm ready," she whispered, and he heard himself whimper in excitement. She laughed lightly and smiled as he started to draw out and drive hesitantly back inside her.

Her laughter died into a moan, and it sent tingles down his spine. Slowly increasing his speed, Draco couldn't focus. The warmth of her tight walls around his cock was the most incredible feeling. He continued to move as her fingernails dug into his shoulders, his back, his hair. She was losing her composure underneath him, quickly, eyes closed and face furrowed in pleasure and absorption. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

"Fuck… Gods, Hermione, you're perfect," he groaned and felt her tense. Her fingers clutched at him as her nails dug deeper, and she moaned loudly as he picked up the pace.

"Yes, Draco!" She cried, and his given name drove him frantic, nearly slamming into her. Her toes pointed, her body shuddered, and she lost all control as her second orgasm hit her.

It took all of Draco's concentration not to spill himself within her when her walls had clamped around him. He refused to be a man who only gave halfway. Watching her as she came down from her orgasm, he slowed his pace, lowering himself so that their chests touched. Her legs shook as they wrapped around him, and he kissed her softly as she smiled against his lips.

"You're wonderful, Draco," she murmured, and his cock twitched inside of her.

He growled deeply, and she gasped as he started to pound into her again, their bodies sliding against one another.

He was so close, he could feel it. He was about to lose his restraint, but he wanted to bring Hermione to her climax once more. She was gasping, frantically thrusting her hips to meet his as her face wrinkled with pleasure again.

"Oh, gods… I'm…" and she cried out as her third orgasm hit her.

Waves of pleasure coursed through him as her walls shuddered around him anew, her legs shaking. Explosions of fractals and colors streamed behind his clenched eyes, and his body responded. He grunted, moaning her name as her fingers clutched his back, his cock pulsing inside her as he fell over the edge with her.

They both missed the soft red glow of the circle underneath the pillows as their pleasures combined into climax.

Their hearts were hammering, he could feel hers beating against his chest, breaths heavy as he kissed her temple, somewhat collapsing on top of her. She chuckled, wrapping her arms around him, and he felt wholly secured. Protected. Saved.

They laid there for a while, basking in a glow of earthbound magic and their lovemaking, trying to collect themselves as their breaths waned.

He rolled off of her some while later and pulled her close into his side. She ran a delicate hand along his torso, stopping at the rune for love he had drawn on his chest to echo hers.

"Is it warm?"

He nodded, and she sighed as if reassured. If both of their chests were warm, it must have just been the sex. He breathed deeply, leaning his head against hers as he watched the colors slow their frantic swirls around them.

They laid in their circle of pillows and blankets, at the center of the flower-covered clearing, for the last few hours leading up to 2 a.m.

They spoke of Draco's mother further and of how she had tried to shield him from the darkness in his home. He told Hermione of the horrors that had occurred over the summer holiday and how he resented his father for everything that had transpired. How he wished Lucius had never gone back to the Dark Lord upon his return.

Hermione shared more of her childhood with her parents. Her first bit of accidental magic, making her spaghetti float off her plate at the age of 2, much to her parent's surprise. She told him of Dumbledore's Army and how they had studied spells under Harry to learn to defend themselves. And the truth about what happened to Umbridge to his howling laughter.

She questioned why he hadn't joined the inquisitorial squad in their fifth year. And Draco had been very serious in his answer of not agreeing with "that sociopathic pink toad" as much as he didn't agree with Voldemort. He told her his decision had caused a stir in Slytherin's house and that it was the reason Crabbe and Goyle always flanked him. That they were watching him and reporting back to their fathers.

He emphasized that their, and Pansy's, clinginess had been why he refused to attend the ball tonight. They had a genuine laugh and spent a good while kissing each other after Hermione spat "Pug-Face Parkinson" through gritted teeth, Draco called her on her jealousy.

When he saw the scar on her torso, he apologized for Lucius' idiocy that had caused it, kissing it with feather-light attention. She assured him he need not apologize, that only his father held blame.

They had laid quietly for a time after that, nuzzled together as the peaceful world around them murmured. Draco still felt light, and the colors were still visible, but he believed he could feel an immense power settle in his heart and on his magic over the past four hours.

"It's 2 a.m.," she murmured, sadness in her temper that he could feel himself. "We should head in."

Hermione ran her hand slowly up Draco's torso to hold the side of his neck while she cuddled deeper into his side, his arm holding her firmly. Draco tilted her chin, and their lips met as he tried to shove all the meaning he could muster into their kiss.

"Thank you, Hermione. For letting me stay… for everything," he whispered against her lips, and he kissed her lightly anew.

They both stood and made to gather their things. Draco didn't want to put the suit back on. To enrobe a personality that didn't feel genuine. But he grimaced and slipped it back on.

He turned as Hermione was vanishing the flowers and candles, storing a now well-known book in her bag, and removing the casting circle from the ground. The clearing was utterly barren, and it made his heart ached. He knew she couldn't leave everything for someone to find, but it felt like she was slowly erasing the memories they shared that night.

The sadness he felt deep within him was echoed on her face as she finally met his gaze. Draco walked to her, wrapping his arms around her middle and kissing her neck lightly. She leaned into him, and they stood together in silence as they both questioned what this evening had thrust them in to.

"We should go before someone sees us," he whispered into her ear.

"That reminds me," she whispered. Shuffling from his grasp, she walked to a lone boulder next to the brook. "Harry's cloak," she revealed as she picked up a piece of shimmering fabric. Draco grimaced as he remembered the last time he had seen it.

"Come on," she commanded, slipping the cloak over her shoulders and holding it up for him to join. "We can use it to walk the grounds."

Draco slid in beside her, and they journeyed back to the castle's entrance. Pausing in front of the stairs to the dungeons, he could tell they both felt melancholy blanket over them.

"I can walk you down," she whispered. Draco turned to her then and wrapped his arms around her.

"It's okay, I can go it alone from here."

The meaning of his words was unequivocal as they saturated the space between two unlikely lovers.

Under the cloak, Draco hugged Hermione close. He didn't want to let her go. He knew as soon as he descended into the dungeons, this night would only be a memory. When they woke up, he would have to denounce her again, and it made him nauseous. He craved to hold her hand while walking her to class, kiss her in the hallways, and show her off how a proper lady should be. He hadn't hated this war or blood supremacy more than at this moment.

"I…" she hesitated. Pushing up onto her toes, she kissed him sweetly, to which he responded by pushing a hand into her hair and kissing her passionately.

"I don't want this to be our only happy memory," he whispered, putting his forehead against hers as she gasped profoundly.

"I promise I'll help you. I won't let you do this alone," Hermione trailed off as he kissed her intensely again.

"Goodnight, beautiful."

And with that, he swept out from underneath the cloak and descended to the dungeons.

"Goodnight, Draco," she whispered into the space he had just occupied.

Looking at her now empty arms, she saw the dried mud runes were still visible. Deciding to head towards the prefect's bathroom, she ascended the stairs to wash the night away and hopefully not Draco with it.