AN: Hey there, all. Here's the second snippet. I don't know how long this story will be. I had originally thought 2-3 parts but we shall see.

I want to thank you so kindly for your reviews and follows! I am glad to see people enjoying this fic. For the record, as much as I love sharing them with people, these stories are basically fantasies that I write for my own enjoyment. I'm very well aware that Hermione and Draco are an unlikely couple, especially in Canon but does that really matter in the world of fanfiction? Yes, I got one review on ffnet that basically was hating on Dramione as a whole, and complaining that Draco could never be a hero and I totally get that. The person likely didn't actually read my fic anyway seeing as their comment was troll-like, anonymous and telling me they had "a choice not to read my crappy fic" lol. Its fine. I'm not ever going to stop writing shite fics and I don't have to please everybody. If I want to write about 2 hot people getting it on, well by golly, I'm gonna do it.

Another guest on ffnet said they were waiting in the hospital for a long time and decided to read my fic. I wanted to tell that person if they see this that I am sorry for whatever you're going through and am sending well-wishes and thoughts to you in this time. I agree with you, my story is annoying but I am glad you said it kept you up at night. I wonder why ; 0 )

Let the shameless smut ensue. Happy reading!

We Always Have A Choice
Part Two
-o-

Hermione returned to Gryffindor tower, her heart beating faster than the speed of sound. Contrary to Malfoy's belief, she was not going to report her findings, not yet. She was sure she still had some time, time to help him, to convince him to change sides. She did not want to let him go that easily, the hope she felt for him. He deserved another chance even though he had almost just erased her memory, threatened her.

She surmised he would be after her now, ready to spring on her at any moment to try and Obliviate her again but she knew he would see, see that there was no need to resort to such drastic measures.

Once tomorrow came around and Malfoy saw that she had kept her lips sealed, he might learn to trust her a little more. If she could get him to trust her, could she sway him to the light? His knowledge would be of incredible value to the Order. He could assist them, help them win the war and in return they would make sure he was taken care of. He could fight by their side...

But sadly, there were strong doubts. It was a long shot. What Hermione was wishing for was honestly a miracle. Malfoy was as stubborn and stuck in his ways as they come, but Hermione would unravel his reluctance of her with everything she had.

The attempted murders – Katie Bell, Ron, the Imperio'd Madame Rosmerta... Malfoy was targeting someone and all signs and evidence pointed to Dumbledore. That Oak Matured Mead Slughorn hoarded had been meant for the Headmaster; the cursed necklace, meant for Dumbledore to touch.

This must be what Malfoy had been tormented by all year, dealing with it on his own alone. Voldemort could not really expect Draco to be able to do something like this? Hermione had never gazed upon Malfoy and thought to herself, 'oh yeah, he could kill someone and not even bat an eye'. In fact, until this very year, whenever she had looked at Malfoy all she saw was a spoiled, wretched and miserable prick who had no real guts, no spine.

Though his seventeenth birthday was right around the corner and he would technically be an adult according to Wizarding Britain, he was still a teenaged boy. Her soul yearned to make him feel eased, to make him feel like he could belong and that somebody cared about what he wanted in this war, in his life. He couldn't truly want to devote himself to the darkness, though it was in a Malfoy's nature. His father had proudly, firmly set Draco's future in stone, but somewhere along the way Hermione found she saw a light in him, however faint. She would nurture this light if he would let her.

If someone would have told her a couple years ago that eventually, Draco Malfoy, ice king of Slytherin, would be warring with himself on whether or not to kill her while simultaneously making her feel the most alive she had ever felt in a dark corridor with his lips melting over hers... well, obviously she wouldn't have believed it. She had not even realized she wanted it until it was happening.

He had always been handsome, though she never took notice because his "winning personality" muddled up any appreciation she might have had. Malfoy looked so much different than anybody she had ever met, somehow like a cross between both a demon and an angel. He made her feel things between her thighs she did not quite realize were possible, not to that degree.

Malfoy had choked her up, violent with her which she definitely had not liked. There were long bruises from where his fingers tightened around her throat and she had to glamor them up so no one would see. He had induced in her real fear, real terror but the fury within him, the passion oozing from him in buzzing electric waves with his lips, his hands as he gripped her waist – it had almost been too much for her. Everything about him exuded sensuality, sex. She did not know how Malfoy had ended up being capable of this, but he suddenly was.

What was wrong with her? Lusting after the snake was never supposed to be part of her plan... and yet she could not help herself from taking a bite of his apple all the same.

It was Monday. Malfoy did not appear at breakfast and Hermione was hardly surprised. He would have to show himself eventually, and she wondered if he was going to skip Potions that morning. Harry and Ron had asked her prodding questions about why she seemed so off, so preoccupied but she shrugged them away. She simply told them she was going through "girl things" and both had shut up instantly.

As they walked down to class, Hermione fell out of step behind her boys and stopped herself as she saw Malfoy, inconspicuously leaning against the wall by an opposite intersection. He watched her with fierce interest, mostly unnoticed by the sea of students traversing the hallways around them. "You two go ahead," she said to Ron and Harry, a lump in her throat. "I have to make a quick run to the lavatory. Tell Slughorn for me?" she gave them an innocent smile and they agreed, waving to her as they continued on to the Potion's classroom.

She sidled over to the Slytherin, staring around for anyone who might pay them mind but the crowd was dwindling. He gave a cool nod toward the storage closet behind him, his silver hair sticking up in all directions. It was long and falling into his purpled eyes. Malfoy looked like he'd been crying all night, like he had been crying for six months straight. He looked back at her again, his brows furrowed indignantly as he opened the door and they both slipped in without being seen.

It was small inside but not as small as a broom closet. It was dark, only the soft glow of Lumos from Malfoy's black wand as he stood directly over her shorter frame. "Good show last night, Granger," he began quietly, impatience and ire sizzling beneath his calm tone. "Tell me, how long do I have before I'm whisked off to Azkaban?" Hermione could feel his breath on her skin, could feel his aguish and suffering spiraling out from him.

"You're not going to Azkaban," she replied, her tone adamant. "And it wasn't a show. I meant it when I said I wouldn't say anything. I meant it all,"

"Is that so?" He didn't seem like he believed her. He raked a jittery hand through the front of his mane, huffing out an anxious exhale. "I can't trust you, you know I can't trust you."

"I know you don't think you can, but –"

"You're going to go to Dumbledore, it's all over for me." He sounded so sure of himself, so sure this was the end.

"No, Malfoy. I'm not, I-I won't," though Hermione very much knew as a last resort she would be reporting him. "But you should. You should go to him and seek his help. He's pretty much the only one who'll know what to –"

"No, you stupid wench!" Draco seethed, teeth bared to her. "Don't you see? I'm fucking dead, I'm already dead no matter what we do. He'll kill me, kill my parents if I don't –" he threw his fingers over his mouth, but Hermione, having put all the pieces together, knew he was referring to an assassination on their Headmaster. "Fucking hell,"

Instinctively, and very timidly, Hermione reached up to lay a comforting palm on his chest. He shook his head down at her, trying to back away but she kept herself in front of him, sweeping her hand to come up around his neck. "Malfoy. Malfoy. Listen to me. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

She was doing her best to look straight into his eyes, to convey her sincerity but he would not open them. He had backed himself down to sit upon a huge trunk that took up most of the one side of the little room, surrounded by random spare classroom supplies.

Draco was very shocked Hermione Granger was being so kind to him, was not giving up his secret. He could not really fathom why he was shocked, when he knew, he knew that this was precisely the sort of person she was. His soul had known, which was why he had allowed himself to risk it all, to bare himself to her.

Granger was one of the most considerate, compassionate witches he had ever known. He had never realized girls could be like that, like her, so forthright yet so forgiving, but brilliant – not until she came along, until she flowered into the woman he couldn't have. He had loathed all this about her, he still thought he did yet somehow she was so bloody difficult to resist.

His lip curled in disgust at himself. He had no inner strength, he could never truly be how a Death Eater really should and the Dark Lord, Voldemort, he knew it. Draco wanted to prove the bastard wrong. He had let Granger fuck up his world but this was not over yet.

He was walking atop a thin wire, destined to nose-dive into the flaming pits of Earth, to burn for all eternity. The Vanishing Cabinet was nearly there. He had to check on it one more tedious time before he would know if it was ready for his Aunt Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters to invade. He could not let Granger stand in his way.

You don't have to do anything you don't want to do.

He had finally opened his slicing grey orbs, swooping his hand up to her cheek. "What I don't want to do, is let you leave this closet without knowing you're not going to run this mouth of yours," he swiped his thumb over Granger's plush lower lip and she leaned into his touch.

"I said I wouldn't," she whined. "I promise you I won't. That choice is still up to you, Draco. It's your choice to make,"

"I am telling you, I don't have a choice," Draco clipped, attempting to sway her off of him but she did not let go, latching onto his long arm. "I never did," his voice crackled. He was getting all choked up again and it was all her fault. She was running her fingers consolingly over his wrist – right where the vile mark had been burned into him – up to his shoulder and chest but Draco pushed her away again into the wall. "Get your filthy hands off me, mudblood," he growled wildly, the Lumos from his wand dissipating as he lost concentration.

Hermione did not comply. She reached out for him in the dark, steadfastly offering the warmth of her hands along his aching bones and Draco's body cried for more. Tears dotted the rims of his eyes and he let them fall, he let Hermione Granger wrap her arms around his neck. His head collapsed into her hair where he relished in the feel of her perfect curves against him, her intoxicating scent.

He couldn't believe it but he felt so much better as his tears wettened the shoulder of her school jumper for several minutes. Draco Malfoy didn't do hugs, but here he was, crying to his enemy as she held him like he was her friend. He brought a hand up to cradle her head, the other stroking her long curls. It was the first time he ever actually felt seen, felt genuinely understood – like he could be enough for someone, even if that someone was the last person he expected.

Despite all the reasons why he could not, why he should not, he let lips drag over the sweet spot under her ear, puffing hotly and pushing a tingly wet kiss to her sensitive skin. Hermione let out a tiny sound, a mewling of delight at all the sensations and Draco's body hummed in wanton response. He was still sat upon the trunk, and her hips had fallen further and further between his thighs. "What are we doing?" he whispered gruffly against her pulse-point, unsure what he wanted for in an answer.

"I don't know,"

Hermione truly did not, but she would do anything not to stop.

Draco's hands curled around her middle, squeezing right above her hips. He splayed his fingers over the small of her back, trailing back up through her locks to cradle her head again with both hands. He met her heavy gaze with his own, already adjusting to the darkness.

He hovered his mouth so near, teasingly, slowly pressing his lips to her own. His hands did not leave her head, his eyes did not leave hers as she succumbed to his searing kiss. They stared into each other, and it was the most erotic thing as he watched her so intently, drawing his tongue around her lip, nibbling it in with his teeth. His artic ice orbs swirled with both a thousand questions and raging with unbidden hunger before the feelings were too overwhelming and their eyes finally flickered closed.

Her fingers twined the long pieces of hair by his neck and ran along his scalp through his thick, semi-sweaty mop. It was starting to get very hot in that little storage closet.

She allowed her mouth to toy with his with just as much eagerness, darting her tongue playfully between his lips. Draco gently fluttered one of his hands down throat, her collarbone. He flirted with the lace of her bra; he could just make it out under the tips of his digits through her sweater, grazing the top swell of her breast and her breath hitched.

Out of the two or three witches he'd snogged, been with, none until now had ever gotten Draco so fucking turned on by just their lips. He was vibrating with pure need, practically trembling and he whimpered brokenly in her kiss. It was the sexiest sound Hermione had ever heard. Her knees buckled and she broke from him, her forehead falling onto his chest.

Her palms dropped onto his thighs, mostly by accident at first, and Draco almost purred at her bashful touch. So close by to dangerous territory. If she went any higher, she would know just how much he –

Hermione's lips found his neck, igniting gooseflesh all over him as she gingerly smoothed a tempting path along his abs with her hand. Possessed, she combed the edge of his shirt up so she could feel the rippling muscles beneath. Draco groaned lightly as her knuckles brushed down the thin trail of fur that traveled below his trousers.

So, this is how she wanted it to be? He reached up, taking her chin in his palm and pressing a forceful kiss to her mouth. Her fingers lingered onto the rim of his slacks, drowning in Draco as he used his other hand to drop surreptitiously from her waist to her hip. Then he burnished right over the roundness of her bum, grabbing around the side of her cheek amidst her ruffled skirt.

Hermione left his lips, her mouth forming a small 'o' in surprise but she did not thwart these advances. Thrilling was the feel of his fingers on her as he then rolled them under the skirt and clutched tightly the thick of her arse. "So soft... feel all of you," Draco ruffed, his tongue laving over the juncture under her ear and Hermione quaked slightly as more and more rushes of wetness soaked through inside her knickers.

Her hands shook, but she was determined, desire fueled. She snapped his belt open as he leaned back, fumbling with it until she was unbuttoning his trousers. Draco was not stopping her, would never have had it in him to make her stop.

He took in a sharp breath through his teeth as the witch he gripped, ran her thumb diligently over the round tip of his cock protruding from under his briefs. His prick lurched at the feel of her and though he had already been very hard, was now solid as stone.

He groaned, buzzing friction as Hermione's fingers brushed tantalizingly down his length and back up again. Draco allowed her to very tenderly, pull down his prison and free his tall, rigid pole. Hermione's eyes raked over him breathlessly. She admired the elegant look of his pale manhood, the first she had ever seen in person.

She felt wary as she realized how long he was, wondering what he would feel like pushing up through her. Hermione was still a virgin, and certain that if they went further than this and shagged, the length of him would wreck her.

She felt the urge to get onto his lap and straddle him but refrained, instead fully gripping on his cock and pumping him between her fingers. He bucked into her hand twice and grabbed her up by both arse cheeks, growling coyly into her ear.

"If you keep this up, Granger, I'm going to fuck you,"

Hermione moaned, having not expected him to actually want to. "Do it, then," she keened, disbelieving of herself. "Fuck me."

Draco's gaze widened, standing them up and flinging her against the wall. His brows were stitched furiously together, his eyes boring into her own. His hands traveled all over her body as he questioned gruffly, slowly, "You want me to fuck you witch, right here, in this closet?"

All she could do was make a pitiful kind of cry that sounded like a 'yes', and that was pretty good for Draco. He took her bottom lip in his mouth, swishing his tongue into her and backing her over to the trunk again. Draco would be running things from here on as he was more of the asserting, leader type when it came to sex. He peeled his sweater from his scorching body, loosening his tie and staring at her pointedly in his white long-sleeved.

"Take off that jumper," he ordered and Hermione obeyed him, freeing herself of the offending garment as she sat upon the trunk. Draco was already fingering open her button-up and smoothing it off her shoulders. She swiped her thumb across the velvety tip of him again, grasping him up and he let out a throaty moan, rolling down her lacy bra at once.

Draco clutched her perky little tits, very much enjoying the feel of them in his hands. He pinched both her taut pebbles, pulling on them crudely and eliciting from her more mewing. His roughness, the cool confidence in his movements made Hermione tingle all over, made her blood rush from her toes to her head. Was she upside down, right side up? She was weightless, yet oh so heavy – heady. It frightened her but she loved it.

He was now pushing her skirt up, bunching it around her waist and Hermione didn't know what was going to happen next. One hand held her thigh apart from the other, and he dragged two of his fingers up the center of her panties. A dark gleam flashed in his eyes as he came to the realization that she was soaked beyond belief. "Fuck," he grunted, kissing her harshly, hazily. "Let me taste you,"

Hermione nodded, flushed, disoriented and butterflies whirling within. Draco dropped to his knees, hitching his thumb around her knickers, pulling them down and dangling off her ankle. He blinked in bewilderment at her dripping folds, nearing his face closer.

"Look at you," his nose dipped inward, breathing her in under the short tufts of womanly fur atop her mound. It had Hermione whimpering, wriggling in discontent. "So fucking pretty." Her head was reeling.

Draco knelt up straighter so he could look at her face better while he glazed his fingers around in her juices – his eyes were wild – and the helpless sounds Hermione made she could not contain. He pressed his index upside-down inside her entrance, his palm rubbing ardently against the bundle of nerves sequestered above her folds and Hermione saw stars in her vision. He withdrew his finger, covered in her wetness and used this to swipe across her highly sensitive button, pushing down on it and relentlessly moving over her.

She fell back over the trunk, arching her back as she ground her heat into his hand over and over. Draco relished in the effect he was having on her, unable to fathom why and how Hermione Granger wanted him this badly but so, so fucking okay with it. He did not want to think about how this was the very last thing he should be doing right now, for once the gravity of his task put out of his mind.

Foxily, he dashed two of his fingers back inside Hermione's folds, pressing them in further with each thrust. She was crying out, wailing from the unfamiliar pleasures he was giving her. Only just now realizing how compromising all of this was, Draco used his free hand to cast a quick Muffliato on the room, as well as an Alohomora for good measure. What was he, an amateur?

He continued his dastardly, deliberate ministrations on her tiny nub, all at once plummeting his fingers within her, gradual but steady. The dexterity of his digits, it was so much to take in but Hermione's brain no longer functioned. Hitting places inside never before discovered, she felt as white-hot as a sun, her body reacting completely on its own as more fingers came up to pinch and squeeze her breasts again.

To her amazement, the digits within curled around in such a way she lay completely helpless in his hands. The molten pooling inside Hermione, the yearning that oozed and expanded at a painstaking pace, was about to spill over for the first time. Her whole body quaked, and just as she remembered he had been asking if he could taste her, Draco's thumb viciously drummed around her swelling bud again and that was all it took for Hermione. Her world shattered, becoming completely undone.

She writhed tremulously and Draco squeezed her thigh gently, unable to do a thing but stare at the glorious creature before him as she crashed down from the heavens. He savored the beautiful sight, locking eyes with her as he dipped down and drove his face toward her flesh, the tidal wave of juices.

He rubbed his mouth, his tongue coarsely against her mound and greedily drank in every bit of her flooding nectar. Draco hummed in approval, sucking his lips around her nub. Hermione could hardly breathe, her mind to mush as the jolting tingles throughout her limbs soon subsided.

Draco then licked the stickiness from his fingers and wiped his mouth before grasping her on the shoulder tightly. His gaze burned through hers, searching for the answer that he needed. "Are we really doing this?"

She knew what he meant. He was giving her a way out, her last chance. "I – yes."

"Granger," his voice scolding. "You have to be sure."

Hermione nodded dazedly, only a smidge worried for the slight pain she had been told would happen. "I am sure," she began unbuttoning his white shirt, kissing along the moonlight skin of his collarbone and Draco allowed his trousers, his briefs to fall further down his thighs.

Who else could make her feel this way? Why would Hermione run away from him now, when she knew if she waited it out for somebody different that it could never compare to what Draco Malfoy could give her?

The Slytherin leaned over her, ravishing her petite frame, caressing ferociously and suckling on every part of her he could get to. He then took himself in his hand and smeared it up her soaking slit. He gasped and groaned into her neck as he pushed his solid rod ever so slightly inside her.

Bit by bit he inched himself through her clenching walls, sweat beading at his brow. "Relax," he nuzzled his mouth against hers, kissing her deeply as his cock surged upward and her barrier was instantly breached.

A strangled intake of air, a breathy moan and Draco stilled above, a very telling intensity in his storm cloud eyes from her reaction, from what he had felt. He was pretty certain he knew what he'd just done. A fury overtook him, "Why the fuck would you let me do that?"

He, of all wizards, the one to deflower the golden princess. How had he not realized? Of course she was a virgin. She was a total bookworm, studious and previously presumed prude... he felt moronic for thinking even a moment, that Weaslebee or any of the other plonkers who followed her around might have done the deed first.

Hermione could barely look at him, her eyes lidded over in her haze, "Because, I – you just feel so good, Draco. I don't want to stop," she breathed and he whimpered in disbelief, grabbing her by the hip and pumping himself out and into her again. Where there had been a roar of sharp pain for Hermione, was now a dulling ache.

The creaminess of her sweet cunt lathered around him as he watched his cock drive inside. He dared push himself all the way to his hilt and Draco's eyes rolled to the back of his head, "Oh gods, can't believe this is... you're fucking tight. So tight," he murmured adoringly and Hermione moaned at his ear, crying in satisfaction as he slammed into her rougher, faster.

His hand was splayed against the wall and he bonded their lips, kissing down her chin before taking one of her globes in his mouth. Draco bit down around her nipple but then released it, grabbing her thighs. He was pulling them up and together, pressing Hermione's legs slightly to the side where he smashed himself in and out brutally, drilling as deep as her tightness would let him.

She was falling apart at the seams, whining softly his name between delicate moans. Her juices were all over his swollen prick. The velvety wetness surrounding him, swallowing him whole caused his legs to tremble in inevitable anticipation.

"I can't make it much longer," he grunted, clutching the flesh of her arse with great force. With his other fingers he cupped her cunt, thrusting her into him with both hands as the Earth crumpled beneath him. Draco lost himself in her, gruffly muttering a combination of swears and sweet nothings while his seed burst unrelentingly through her core.

Hermione could feel him twitching, pulsing himself inside her. So carnal, she'd never felt more like an animal – except for second year when she Polyjuiced herself into Millicent Bulstrode's cat, but she did not need to think about that.

Draco brushed his lips softly over hers in the blissful aftermath, eventually withdrawing his now highly sensitive manhood. He started pulling his trousers together as Hermione remained seated, so breathless. Draco brandished his wand, circling it over Hermione's form with a purply-pink contraceptive charm as well as a quick cleaning spell over both of them.

Her limbs were shaking, brief sharp pains deep in her belly as she stepped back into her knickers and straightened out her uniform. The tension in that little room suddenly sky rocketed, the silence between them thickening with the passing seconds.

Hermione was not going to berate herself for her own decisions. She had given herself to Draco wholeheartedly and, whether or not it ever happened again, she was not filled with regret. At least, not yet. She never thought her first would be like this, in a storage closet over a trunk, with him.

Hermione had always pictured Ronald to be the one someday, and definitely not while they were still at Hogwarts. She pictured it happening under the covers, perhaps on his bed at the Burrow, or at Grimmauld Place though such a dreary home.

Never this, not this. Not Draco Malfoy.

But it had.

Draco's stare was fixated on her every move as she dressed, wordlessly trying to convey to her the guilt he was beginning to feel. A lump of self-hatred was rising up his throat and he let out a withering exhale, dragging a hand through his hair.

"It's alright, Draco," Hermione said, wanting to take a step toward him but keeping her distance. "Really, it is."

He ground his teeth together, jaw clamping. He found that he could not right away speak, his thoughts moving as fast as the wings of a Snitch. His ears were ringing, nauseated with his actions. "W-We should not have – that was –"

"No, I know," she replied, hanging her head and wringing her fingers. "But I don't care, and I don't regret it."

"No?"

"No."

"Granger, I swear if you tell anyone, I –"

Hermione rolled her eyes, her stance very haughty. "Really? You think I'm going to go pop off and tell Harry, tell Ron or even Ginny? Not likely, Malfoy, please." She had to admit, as a female she was offended. Of course he would think she'd tell around, compromise their precious reputations. In all actuality, it was usually the men who went around kissing and telling, braggadocious bastards that they could be.

Draco should have erased her memory when he'd had the chance, he should never have let this transpire, them. He was not very well going to Obliviate her now that he had given Granger her first cock. It would be just cruel, and though he was cruel, there was also the part of him that did not want her to forget what they did. He did not want her to forget him.

There was nothing else he could say to her then, anxious tremors causing a vein in his neck to pulse aggravatingly. He needed to get away from her, needed to think clearly somewhere alone. He needed to sleep.

Draco knew he'd be skipping classes for the rest of the day, and whatever Granger did was up to her. "This isn't over," he told her coldly, looming above her in his intensity before unlocking the door and slipping out.

Hermione stood there fuming, but wistful. She had not yet to know what to make of what they just did together, but she was not giving up on him. There had to be some way to make him see that he had the capability to change.

It was as if there had been no avoiding it, as if their opposing spirits were always meant to collide. The Dark and the Light, the meeting point between the heavens and the earth.

His amorous, lascivious whisperings, the spark-inducing squeezing and caressing of his large hands... he felt what she felt. Though Hermione held no experience until now and she had nothing else to compare it to, she was positive she and Malfoy had a true sexual connection. She only prayed it was not her naivety talking.

-o-

AN: Well, that escalated quickly. So shameless. I probably shouldn't be posting this at 1:40 in the morning, not the greatest time to do it but I am very impatient. Let me know if you liked it! Part 3 in the making, much love to you readers. Cheers.