A/N: As the chapter title suggests, there's some mature sexual content up ahead! Beware, or enjoy, whichever applies to you. 3

December 1998—

Hermione's trunk was packed, her Muggle clothes were on under her school robes, and her scarf was dangling from her neck. The semester was over, and she had acquired top marks in every subject. Crookshanks was at her side batting at the tassels on her scarf. It was time. She scooped up the ginger beast, levitated her trunk, and picked up the gift she had wrapped in green and silver.

Draco was in the common room, lounging, and looked up when she entered.

"You don't need to bring down your trunk you know. The house elves have magic, too."

"I'm helping," she said indignantly.

He smirked.

She plopped herself down in the chair next to him and released Crookshanks to make his final mouse patrol of the common room.

"Look, it's not a big deal or anything, but I got you something." She handed Draco the gift, and he smiled as he took it. "You don't have to open it now. You can wait until Christmas if you like."

"Since when have you known me to be patient?" He flicked his wand, and a small box wrapped in red and gold floated from beneath their common room tree into her lap.

"What?" She was stunned.

"Hey, I can be thoughtful, too," he grinned with far too much self-satisfaction for her liking.

Hermione pulled off the bow and tore open the paper. Inside the little box were four hair ties and a description card.

~Ever-Lasting Wraps~
from the Makers of "Unbreakable Barrettes" and "Reappearing Pins"

Enchanted for the witch-on-the-go to never snap, wear out, or fade.

Featured in Witch Weekly!

She pulled out the hair ties, and each was a different color: one black, one brown, one red and gold, and one green and silver. Malfoy plucked the last one out of her hand.

"I expect you to make special use of this one," he smirked. "Maybe wear it over the holidays when the Weasel annoys you."

Hermione beamed at him. "Draco! This is such a thoughtful gift. Thank you, I can't wait to try them."

"You're welcome. Now, tell me why these sugar quills look funny." Draco popped one in his mouth.

"Oh, I made them from—"

"Whoa!"

"—a special Muggle sugar I ordered."

"This is bloody brilliant! Tastes exactly like candy apples. Muggles can do that sort of thing?"

"Yeah, of course. Took a lot of creative postage work to get it here, but melting them into the molds wasn't too hard."

Draco was closing his eyes and smacking his lips. "Into the molds…" His eyes popped open. "You madethese?"

Hermione nodded.

"Genius." He leaned closer, conspiratorially, and she did the same. "Incredible," he whispered and sucked on the quill a bit more. "Do you want to taste?"

"Oh, I did try some as I was making them."

He waited without moving away. His lips were parted and enticing, and her eyes were trapped on them, on him.

She shook her head. "I guess, sure."

Instead of offering her the quill as she expected, he pulled her face to his and kissed her. She melted into the kiss, and she tasted the tart apple on his tongue. He pulled her closer, and she left her chair and joined him in his, straddling his lap and never parting their lips. She laced her fingers into his hair. He kissed her thoroughly, nipping at her lips and tasting her with his magic apple tongue. Then he started trailing bites down her neck before returning to her mouth. Her dream from all those weeks ago came back to her. She was instantly aroused.

A door slammed, and Hermione jumped off of Draco's lap, but no one came into the common room. She looked back to him, and his eyes were still on her, smoldering.

She cleared her throat. "Shall we go down to the train?"

Draco nodded.

Their walk down was silent, but Hermione felt the back of Draco's hand brushing hers every few steps until they parted ways for her to join Ginny.

Hermione's first few days at the Weasleys were perfect. Harry and Ron were staying at Grimmauld Place together until their holiday began, but Harry popped in for a few minutes every day to see Ginny. He made excuses for Ron each time—he got stuck on an exercise, he had a meeting with his mentor, etc.—which upset Mrs. Weasley, but Hermione felt relieved. It was more peaceful not having to worry how he would act or what he would think when he found out she was no longer seeing Ernie.

Fred and George's room had been redone as a guest room, which Mrs. Weasley made up specially for Hermione. During the day, she and Ginny helped Mrs. Weasley with last-minute Christmas chores. This was interspersed with chatting together over tea, walks around the grounds, and occasional flying practices between just the two girls. Except for the absence of her parents, things felt quite perfect.

At the end of her fourth full day, Hermione decided a bit of reading in bed would be the perfect way to wind down. She opened her trunk, found a book she had been waiting to start, and caught sight of a flashing blue light. She pulled out her blue journal, put pen to page, and allowed the Twinned Quill to write.

'How is your holiday going?"

'So far so good. How is yours?'

Hermione wasn't sure when Draco sent the message initially, but he still responded right away. 'Not bad. My mother is happy to have me here, but she's not doing too well in the manor by herself. She's started to renovate.'

' I'm sorry, Draco. It must be hard on her.'

'How is it with the Weasel and his somehow less-annoying friend?'

'They're not here yet, and don't talk that way about Harry!'

'I said less-annoying!'

'You know what I mean, Malfoy.'

'Okay, okay, you win. Is the hovel comfortable?'

'You realize these people are like my family, right?'

The quill stilled. Then Draco finally wrote, 'I guess what I mean to say is, are the repairs there done?'

'Yes, and thank you.'

'You're welcome. But you're draining away my fun.'

'You'll have to think of another way to have fun, then.'

'Maybe I already have.'

'Okay…?'

'I'm having another of your incredible sugar quills and remembering when you gave them to me.'

'Oh. Is this something we need to talk about?'

'No, but I'm going to keep reliving it in my head.'

'So, you like them?'

'I liked everything about that morning.'

Hermione was red as a tomato and breathing fast. She had been carefully schooling herself to not think about his kisses, but there he was, admitting to enjoying them. She remembered the way his body felt, toned and lean, and how easy it was for them to fit together, even squished in one chair. She licked her lips and, possibly against her better judgment, decided to see where this would take her.

'I liked it too.'

Draco's handwriting was a little bit shaky when he replied with, 'That was something I could get used to enjoying more often.'

'Me too.'

'What else do you enjoy?' That time, his hand was steady.

'I liked your teeth on my neck.'

'Your skin tasted amazing.'

'I liked the taste of the candy on your tongue.'

'Ah, that tastes amazing, too.'

Hermione was not quite sure how to reply to that. She was saved from having to figure it out when the quill started scratching again.

' I want to make you feel good in so many other ways.'

'Oh really?' Hermione's eyebrows raised. 'Do tell.'

'Oh, I will, but I think that's for another night. Otherwise, I'll never relax enough to get to sleep.'

'Now who's no fun?'

'Minx. As you so aptly have told me before, I have nothing but my hand at night. I'd rather not be forced into using it when I'm already comfortable and in bed.'

'I only have my hands too, you know. It's not a one-sided conversation. But you can sate my curiosity another time.'

'Damn it. Now I have another incredible image in my head.'

'Hah! Goodnight.'

'Goodnight, Minx.'

Hermione tucked away the journal and her unread book. She decided the smartest thing to do that night was not to think too much. Otherwise, it might just hit her that she had well and fully started something up with Draco Malfoy. What they had started, she did not yet know, but she smiled into her pillow as she drifted off to sleep just the same.

Hermione woke up to the Twinned Quill waiting for her with a message already. Malfoy was eager to pick up where they left off, which Hermione was less sure about after thinking it over fresh in the morning.

'I had a dream about you last night,' he wrote.

'And you're telling me this because?'

'I promised you I would, remember?'

'Nope. Sorry.'

'Well I did, and Malfoys keep their word. So you'll just have to hear about how pretty you look on your knees.'

Hermione flushed so deeply that she was glad no one could see her face. What the hell was Malfoy saying to her!? 'I don't know what you mean by that.'

'Don't worry, I reciprocated. You tasted fantastic in my dreams too.'

'I have to go down to breakfast. You'll have to keep these dirty thoughts to yourself.'

'Funny you should mention going down…'

'Malfoy! It's broad daylight!'

'So we can talk like this only when it's dark?'

'Ginny will be to here any second. Stop being so randy!'

' Okay, I'll save it for later. Enjoy your morning. I know I will.'

Hermione and Ginny once again spent the day helping Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen and with chores. That evening, Ron came to the Burrow with Harry after work. He was home to stay until after the holidays. Harry planned to spend all of his waking hours at the Burrow, but he wanted to go home to Grimmauld Place each night to sleep and have breakfast before returning. Kretcher had left Hogwarts after the repairs were finished, and Hermione knew Harry felt guilty about leaving him alone all the time.

Mrs. Weasley's cooking was over the top that night, and Hermione and Ginny marveled at how many dishes she could make all on her own. Turns out they had helped with only a small portion of her menu. After having to cook regularly with limited ingredients the previous year, Hermione had a new appreciation for Mrs. Weasley's culinary prowess. Even George made an appearance to share in the feast and kick off the holidays. They ate and laughed and ate some more, and when all waistbands were bursting, Hermione and George both offered to clear up the dishes. The rest of the family plus Harry retired to the next room.

With the help of magic, something Hermione had generally not been able to use at the Burrow, the task was a lot easier to accomplish. She set the dishes to scrubbing while George dried and levitated them to their proper cupboards. She caught him eyeing her closely while they worked.

"You seem happier," he said when they were about half way through.

"I think I am." Hermione felt a smile creep onto her face. "You do too, actually."

"I'm always having a laugh. Can't say it's been the same for you."

"There's still a difference. I can sense less weight on your shoulders."

"You're right."

Hermione took a minute to really look at George. He had a bit more confidence in the way he stood, even relaxed against the counter. His lip quirked up more often, and his eyes had a light to them. It was truly wonderful to see, and Hermione had a sneaking suspicion she knew the cause.

"Okay, out with it," she said.

George laughed. "I'll only tell if you do."

Hermione balked. "Tell what? I don't think I have anything to tell."

"Now, now, don't be shy. I can see it just like you can. I'll break the ice: yes, I've been seeing someone."

"That's wonderful!" She beamed at him.

"And you?" He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at her.

"Oh, no, I haven't. That is to say, it's not dating exactly. Well, I suppose it isn't not—"

"Ahem."

"Let's just say there's someone, and it's a little complicated."

"Is it that Ernie bloke still?"

She shook her head.

"Good. I always thought he was a pompous twat."

"He rather is."

"Any names to share?"

Hermione chewed her lip. "I'm not sure I'm ready to say."

George sighed. "Me neither, if I'm honest. That's the problem, innit? Once it's out there… What will everyone else think? Why should it matter who you choose to spend your time with, y'know?"

"Yes, that's exactly it. We can't choose who makes us happy, can we? Even if it's the last person you'd expect."

"Stigmas are serious business."

The lapsed into silence.

"Well, Hermione," he grinned at her, "I'm dead curious now. Should we swap names, just between you and me?"

She hesitated. "You first."

George opened his mouth then clamped it shut for several moments. She saw his eyes turn inwards. "Okay, next time I see you," he said at last. "Promise."

"It's a deal." Hermione extended her hand, and they shook on it with matching smiles. That was when it dawned on her. "Wait, you don't mind that it isn't Ron?"

George barked out a laugh. "Hermione, if it were Ron, I'd seriously question your mental health."

Later that night after George had left, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione retreated to Ginny's room to talk away from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Ginny and Harry sat on her bed together and held hands, while Ron reclined in her desk chair, and Hermione sat on the floor.

"Auror training is great," Harry was saying. "They're really thorough, and I think I'm catching on quick. They give a lot of details that you'd love, Hermione, and for once, I think I get it. Your passion to learn and know everything. It's really exciting!"

"So, better than Hogwarts?" Hermione laughed.

"Yes and no, but if we got grades, I'd be a straight O student for once." Harry chuckled. "I still miss Hogwarts. Is it weird without us there?"

"It was at first, to be honest, but it's been fine now."

"Fine?" Ginny scoffed. "Speak for yourself."

Hermione and Harry exchanged secret grins.

"Look, all right, it was extra weird at first being in the Head dorms, and having Malfoy there, but now it's just normal. I think I'd have a harder time if I were in the Gryffindor dorms without you both. But this way, everything is different, so it's been easier to adjust."

Ginny and Harry nodded, but Ron visibly tensed. He was still mostly ignoring her.

"Things still okay with Malfoy?" Harry asked.

Hermione had to control her face to avoid the smile that threatened to break out. "Yes, they're still fine."

"More than fine," said Ginny. "He's been bloody cordial with her. Friendly, even. I wouldn't be surprised if she had a package from Malfoy at the foot of her bed on Christmas morning."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, but it was Ron who spoke out. "Malfoy!? Please. Once a ferret, always a ferret. I can't believe you two are condoning this. Listen, 'Mione, you need to stay away from him."

"No, it's—" Hermione started, but Ginny interrupted her.

"And what business is it of yours?" she asked, and her voice was scathing.

"'Mione's my—"

"Your what, Ron? How are you really going to finish that sentence?"

They glared daggers at each other. Hermione and Harry locked eyes, and she knew his helpless expression was mirrored on her own face.

"My friend," Ron said at last. "She's my friend, that's what. And I care if some Death Eater who should've been locked up is cozying up to her."

"He's not a Death Eater!" Hermione has practically screamed it, surprising herself a little.

Ron's face was gobsmacked. "You can't be serious."

"Actually, Ronald, I am. I'm the only one here who's talked to him, and I'm the one sharing living quarters with him and seeing him every day. Not to mention being paired up with him for nearly every bloody project last semester, all of which went perfectly. If I say there's nothing to worry about, then there's nothing to worry about. This isn't like sixth year. But, you can ask Padma and Ernie if my word suddenly isn't enough for you."

Ron's face was as red as his hair. "You can't be serious. Ernie!?"

"Shut it, Ron!" Ginny shouted.

The room was about to explode, and in a flash, Harry was on his feet.

"I think it's time we all went to bed," he said. "Ron?"

Hermione noticed a look pass between the two boys.

"Ron?" Harry repeated, when Ron did not respond immediately.

"Yeah, all right. See you lot tomorrow." With that, he trudged out of the room.

Hermione hugged Harry and Ginny in turn and left them to say a private goodnight. On her way down the stairs to her guest bedroom, Ron was there waiting for her. She stopped dead, trying to figure a way out of getting cornered. He made sure there was none. She braced herself, and her hand flickered near her wand, imagining the worst.

When Ron met her eyes, though, Hermione saw there was no fight in them.

"'Mione, wait, just let me talk for a minute."

He approached her and dropped one hand on her shoulder. She nodded for him to continue.

"I know you can handle yourself around Malfoy. I'm just worried about you. I don't know that you're making good decisions with all the stress you're under. I just want to help you. I care about you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione could barely believe it. After months of ignoring her and what she was going through, now he suddenly cared about her? Now he was worried and wanted to help her?

"You know what it means." He dropped his other hand on her shoulder, boxing her in, then slipped both down to rub her arms. It might have been comforting, or even affectionate, but she was reeling with what she had just heard. Six months ago, she wanted nothing more than for Ron to say things like that. But now…

"Ron, it's late. I don't think this is the right time to have this conversation." Hermione was in no mood to crush his hopes and set him straight tonight. She felt no surety towards exactly what she wanted to do, so avoidance was her best bet.

"Of course," Ron nodded and smiled at her. He moved toward her as if to embrace, but she twisted them on the stairs and ended up walking right past him.

"Goodnight," she called over her shoulder as she ran down the stairs. She hid in her room, waiting, until she heard Ron's footsteps disappear upstairs to his room. Then, she began to pace. She needed to talk to someone. Time slipped by as she ran over all the possible scenarios. Should she owl George and tell him to come back and swap names after all? No. Of course not. Harry was out of the question, too. There was really only one person to go to.

Hermione's mind was made up. She had to talk to Ginny, who was the most likely to be on her side. Harry had surely gone home by then, so she crept back up to Ginny's room. She wanted nothing more than to avoid the chance that Ron would realize where she had gone and corner her again. She tapped lightly on the door and heard the bed creek.

"Yes!" Ginny whispered, but her voice sounded strained.

Quietly, Hermione opened the door. Her brain froze at the sight before her. Belatedly, she shut her eyes and then the door as quickly as she could, but the damage was done. Burned into her retinas was the image of Ginny, naked and straddling Harry, also naked and laying on her bed. Ginny was bouncing up and down on Harry as he thrust up into her. Her hands were braced on his shoulders, and his were gripping her breasts.

Hermione was mortified. She whispered a spell to lock their door—Why wouldn't they check that first!?—and ran back to the guest room. She locked her own door and paced around inside. Willing her brain to shut down was impossible. She needed a distraction.

There was the Twinned Quill with the blue lights flashing for her. Perfect. She grabbed her journal and let the message scratch out.

'Is it night yet?'

Hermione groaned. 'Malfoy, now is not the time! I've just seen something. Oh my gods, I'll never be able to talk to them again.'

The reply took a few minutes to come this time, and Hermione wondered if Malfoy was actually busy.

'Okay, now I'm curious.'

'No, I don't want to talk about it! Tell me about your day.'

'Not right now. What did you see?'

'Please, Draco. Please tell me about anything else.'

'Oh come on. It can't have been that bad. Did you walk in on the Weasel wanking or something?'

Hermione cringed. 'Okay, that would've been worse. Thanks for that. Why can't you just tell me about your day?'

'It's not the right time.'

'Cryptic, much? What good are you if you won't distract me?'

The quill stilled for a while. 'We just planned renovations, that's all.'

'See? That wasn't so bad. Are you expanding the ballroom or something? What do you pure-blood people do when renovating a magical manor?'

'No, not the ballroom. Just general renovations.'

'Top secret, then?'

'Granger, I can't talk about this with you. I could barely get through it with my mother.'

'Draco, you're scaring me. What happened?'

'Nothing happened.' A pause, then he added, 'Today. Nothing happened today.'

Hermione stared at that page perplexed. What on earth was wrong with him? What could possibly have him so upset about redecorating his own house? The answer clapped over her like thunder.

'It's the drawing room, isn't it?'

'Yes.'

The quill stilled on both ends.

'I just saw Ginny and Harry having sex.'

'WHAT!?'

'Can you Scourgify your eyes?'

'Ha! Way to go Weaselette.'

'I'm being serious, Malfoy!'

'So am I. Good for her. What were they doing?'

'I told you, having sex!'

'I know that. Details, witch!'

'I don't want to think about it.'

'Just picture someone else's face instead of theirs. Or ignore the faces altogether. Then it'll just be random sex, and not someone personal.'

Hermione considered this, but no.

'Nothing is just random sex to me. I don't exactly have that experience yet.'

'Fair.'

She tried to change her view in her mind to crop out their faces, but it was no good. She could still make out who they were. Instead, she replaced Harry with Draco. She blushed at the thought, but it actually made her the most comfortable. Him having sex with Ginny was no good, so she tried to picture a random girl, which was somehow worse. Her dream came back to her. Imagining herself with him was unexpectedly easy. It was weird thinking of herself from a distant viewpoint, but it was working.

'The guy was laying on the bed.'

'Good. And where was she?'

'She was on top of him.'

'Sitting or laying?'

'Sitting, kind of.'

'Tell me what else,' Draco coaxed.

'His hands were on her.'

'Where?'

'Her breasts.'

'Good. Now tell me what happens next.'

'I closed the door and ran away!'

'You think we're still talking about them, Granger? Come on, you're supposed to be brilliant. The last thing I want to know about is what the Weaselette and her boyfriend were actually doing. I want to know what you're imagining in that pretty little head of yours.'

'Oh, I see. Well, in that case, you're going to have to help. All I can imagine is her rocking her hips back and forth.' Hermione had no idea where this was coming from in her, but clearly, her body knew things that her conscious mind did not.

' He would be moaning being that deep inside her.'

'I think he might prefer to hold her hips for leverage and control.'

'Definitely. And he'd want to sit up and take one of those perfect tits in his mouth.'

'She would love all that stimulation.'

'He'd see if he could put pressure on her clit with his thumb while she took control of the pace.'

'He'd give up control just like that?'

'Merlin, yes. Anytime.'

'She'd probably start slow and build up.'

'Is that what you're doing?'

'Me? Draco…'

'Okay, not you. Her. I can tell you that if he were just thinking about all this, he'd be getting hard.'

Hermione bit her lip. Was this something she wanted to explore? She may not be very experienced, but she knew about her own body, and she liked that thinking about being with Draco made her excited. And, vice versa.

'What else would he be doing if he were by himself?'

'He'd unzip his pants and give himself a few strokes while thinking about making her moan with his teeth and tongue.'

'What next?'

'He'd be hoping she'd have her fingers in her knickers.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow. She kicked off her jeans and decided this was definitely something she wanted to try.

'She does. And she'd be hoping by now he was long and hard.'

'Oh, he is. He's stroking himself from base to tip and imagining her hands on him.'

'She's dipping one finger inside but mostly focusing on her clit.'

'He's focusing on the tip now. Wishing she were here with him, or he could at least watch her.'

'She'd love to see him stroking himself. She's going faster. Feeling close and so wet.'

'Fuck, so close'

'Yes'

Hermione climaxed spectacularly. She imagined Draco watching her and finishing at the same time. She pushed through and kept going until she could take no more. Her breath was ragged and her vision blurred.

When she came back down, she saw the quill begin to write.

'I'm pretty sure you're the sexist thing in the entire world.'

Embarrassment hit her, but not for what they done together. She was fairly sure she had never been referred to as sexy before.

'I'm feeling very relaxed now. I think I might read a bit before falling asleep.'

'No baths there?'

'I wouldn't feel comfortable, no. We've got shared bathrooms.'

'Well, if you need help relaxing another night, I'm your man. Sleep well.'

To her credit, Hermione did intend to read after she snuck to the bathroom for her nightly routine, sans bath. She woke the next morning feeling better rested than she had in ages with the book, unopened, at her side.