AN: I've got to put in a warning, this chapter is especially fluff-infused and ineffably smutty, but so was Part 2. Very, very vulgar but also, sort of sweet actually? You'll see. Lots of emotion, cringeworthy in places (as is most of this fic) but I've come to really like this chapter so I hope you lovely readers like it too.

Thanks so much for your follows and very thoughtful reviews! It sincerely means a lot to me.

We Always Have A Choice
Part Four
-o-

That very night after dinner, Hermione had immediately snuck over to Professor Horace Slughorn and asked him if she could have permission to check one of the potions in the locked storage cabinet. He had nary an issue with it, yet all the same, had asked her of which potion it was she wanted to investigate.

Hermione had settled for the truth, although exceedingly mortifying. She had told him she wanted to know if her Amortentia still smelled the same. Intrigued by the possibility of teenage drama pertaining to one of his best students, Slughorn had fruitfully agreed and wandered down with her to the cabinet.

He had tittered along, chatting animatedly with her about what it often said in texts about the love drug. Indeed, it was very possible for the smells of someone's Amortentia to morph throughout their life, especially in adolescence.

As she stood in the storage room while Slughorn waited politely outside, Hermione stared down at the bottle in her now quaking hand, very hesitant to pop the lid. She felt as if she were about to open Pandora's box, and she felt the fright of it in her bones.

There was no way it was going to smell like him. It would be absolutely barmy if it did. Just because they had some strange, sexual connection did not mean she was in love with him or anything.

But Hermione had known she felt something for Draco Malfoy the moment he'd pinned her to the wall in the corridor on Sunday night. His hands, his voice, his lips – they had all awoken something in her.

A surge of adrenaline, she popped the top of the bottle and was invaded with the juicy haze of tart apples, smokey nuts and an undertone of freshly pressed parchment. No longer did mown grass come from her Amortentia, but the damned apples instead.

It smelled like heaven and hell all at once, just like him, and Hermione's knees buckled. She would have dropped the bottle if Professor Slughorn had not appeared by her side knowingly, swiping back from her the dangerously potent elixir.

After he had reclosed the stopper and put it away safely, the old man could not help himself from chortling, grinning down at her with his particular brand of jolly amusement. "You'll be alright, Ms. Granger, my dear," he told her, idly twisting the end of his great mustache. Hermione stood then from her crouched position, having been afraid for a moment she might retch.

"Thank you, Professor." She could not stick around to entertain the man with the inevitable oncoming of wisecracks about young love, so she bolted from the room and sped up the staircases toward Gryffindor Tower.

-o-

After she'd collected her things, Hermione went to the library alone to finish up some last assignments for Transfiguration. Her friends had seen something amiss in her instantly, even Ron who thought she seemed far more withdrawn than usual and less 'naggy'. They had eyed her suspiciously all week and Hermione knew she was going to have to crack soon and tell them what she knew.

However, she did not want to divulge to them just how much she felt.

A person's Amortentia did not represent love, per say. Hermione had told this to herself over and over. It was strictly just infatuation. Perhaps she was even being a bit obsessive. After all, it took everything in her to think of anything else but Draco. It was a widespread belief in most of the wizarding community that what one smelled in their Amortentia, equated to the person whom you loved, but that could not always be the case.

It was all just attraction, really. Hermione did know that. One could feel deeply attracted to someone but not love them. Even still, it was difficult for her to shake the notion, difficult not to feel as if she really were falling for the tempestuous snake. It was total torture, and being as unhinged as she were, had no desire to be around anyone at that moment. She had bloody lost her wits.

About a couple of hours drove on and Hermione dozed off, having overexerted herself not for the first time. She had thought and thought, frazzled to the brim until her brain had simply shut off.

Hermione could not be sure how long she was floating in the shallow end of dreamland. She was very far away, yet heard a distant tapping, like fingers rapping impatiently, echoing uncomfortably through her ears. It was bringing her back.

"You should wake up, Granger," came that silk-enlaced voice.

Her head snapped up, eyes and hair wild. Fuck. There he was, leaning at the end of the table and peering at her amusedly. The library was about to close and he had been doing her a favor just now, by waking her.

Draco knew he should have just kept on going when he saw her there, but why would he want to do that? In his gut, he had hoped to run into her. He did not want this to be over, with Granger. His half-hearted studying was only to keep his mind from everything about to unfold but like usual, the trivial distractions had proved ineffective.

He could think of a few other things, to better distract him – like somehow getting to snog this witch one last time. Draco hated himself for it, but he wanted to feel her again. Unfortunately, he really had no clue how he would get her to kiss him if he could not agree to abandon his dark plans.

He would start by playing hard-to-get, the little games he weaved. It was what he was good at.

"Goodnight," he said breezily, drifting away and Hermione stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor.

"Wait,"

He remained expressionless as he looked back, only one brow arched in question.

"I, uh..." Hermione knew why she did not want him to go, but she could not figure out a way to properly convey without saying it; just how badly she needed him to stay, how much she needed him to put his hands on her. Draco attempted not to look as smug as he felt, observing her entirely bashful demeanor. "Earlier, I... didn't like how things left off."

"Mmm." he hummed, thoughtful yet contrite. He was not going to change his mind. This all made him sad, and bitter too, like her but Draco would not give up on his task.

Hermione timidly drew closer, standing directly at his side but he would not look at her. "I didn't want you to leave, I-I don't..." She did not want him to continue on this way, as a Death Eater. He didn't have to do this, and he was just beyond her reach, skirting the edge of what they both knew was the right decision. "Have you thought about anything I've said? I want to –"

"We... can't make this happen. This isn't about what either of us want," Were they to keep having this conversation? They were circling around the same obstacle like a couple of vultures picking at the dead. It was futile.

"What do you want?" she queried lightly, a glint of curiosity in her gaze.

For someone who was always full of the answers, Granger had just as many questions to go with them. Her favorite questions to ask were the hardest ones, of course.

"I don't want mother to be killed," was the simple truth, however.

Hermione could understand this, she really did but there were other ways. She had told him so the other evening, but he was not having it then, and it certainly did not seem that he was having it now. "We can help her too. Take a leap of faith, Draco,"

He rolled his eyes, grumbling down at her, "You're not getting it. My mother will never desert father, she's loyal to the Malfoy name, unlike me," he scoffed at himself, silver hair falling over misty eyes. He had been fooling himself. What had he done? This was all so twisted. Draco felt so much pressure reaching out from every angle and he could not tell where to give in.

He wanted to let go, he wanted to run away. He could jump off the top of the Astronomy Tower and never have to think about any of it again.

But those were the last things he would ever do.

Especially when he felt her tiny hands tenderly come around his elbow and invade him with her warmth. Her large brown eyes, full of all that was good and pure, were staring up at him with genuine sorrow, with the empathy he didn't deserve. He felt his heart clench in the worst way.

"I-I've seen you," said Hermione, unrelenting in her brazen fight for his virtue. "I know you. You've been awful to everyone, yes, you're cruel and you're a Malfoy but... but I think you are better than you know, Draco. You could end up doing a lot of good. I truly believe that,"

His hand was just snaking up to rest against her own, his expression yet again bewildered by her when –

"What is the issue here?"

Interrupted. Madame Pince was glaring behind them, her wrinkled features pinched with irritation.

Hermione had jumped away from the Slytherin at the shrill sound of the old woman's voice, gathering her books, her bag. "No issue at all, Madame. I was just packing up my things. This was just... a last minute er, discussion on our Arithmancy assignment, yes." Draco tried to hide the smirk tugging the corner of his mouth at her blatant lie.

Pince was overall unenthused and preferred to mostly ignore the woeful dramas involving the students unless said drama broke the rules. "Right. Well, if there's no issue, you can find another place to... finish your discussion. Curfews' at ten."

She curtly turned around and walked away, leaving the atmosphere thick with awkwardness. They knew curfew was at ten, Pince had been reminding them that they had two hours before they had to be in their respective common rooms. It was only eight o'clock and in an hour at nine, Hermione would have to go on rounds with Padma Patil.

Draco gazed at the elder witch as she retreated, completely perplexed and Hermione tossed her bag over her shoulder, flushed and mouth agape. It almost sounded like the librarian was encouraging whatever she thought she had seen, and Hermione was betting their conversation had looked pretty intimate.

Hermione scuttled after Draco as he strutted through the library doors and out in the hall. No one was around and it seemed for a moment, like Draco was going to leave as he took a few steps toward the direction of the Grand Staircase.

Yet he slowly, smoothly whirled back. His eyes pinned her down as he stalked toward her, piercing her soul and reflooding the gates. His face was close above, his electricity mingling with hers. "Come with me."

He did not wait for her to decline him, though she wouldn't have. She followed Draco through the corridors until they came to an empty classroom there on the fourth floor. Though she had a feeling, Hermione was not totally sure his intent. Were they just going to keep talking, or did he...?

There was a flick of his wand and the door was locked behind them. In a fraction of a heartbeat, Draco was looming above her again, his fingers clutching the material of her grey jumper at her side. His nose disappeared into the crook of her neck, her hair as he breathed her scent deeply. This was something she just so happened to be growing accustomed to. He really fancied the way she smelled. Hermione wondered absentmindedly, what Draco's Amortentia was like. Was there a chance it smelled at all like her?

He coiled around Hermione, his hand sweeping along her belly. He situated himself directly behind her and she pressed back against him. Draco's hands roved over her midsection, gripping her hips and pulling her closer.

His breath found her ear, his fingers toying with the top edge of her skirt. "I wasn't bred to be good, I've never been good," he spoke gruffly, his tone low. "It can't change, it'll only get worse and harder for me to run from my obligations. It's ingrained in me. My father, and his father before. I'm expected to torture and kill mudbloods like you and shed no remorse about it. The others, they revel in that behavior. Greyback, especially. I really don't want to think about what he'd do to you."

Tears stung the corners of Hermione's eyes as she closed them, pleading inside for Draco not to turn out so far gone. It didn't have to be like this. He professed just earlier, that he could not stand the thought of her harmed, that if anyone touched her they would be dead...

"I'm going to have to forget about you," Draco went on coolly, but he did not remove his hands from her. "To ensure my survival, I'll have to hide the way I..." he trailed off and Hermione's heartbeat rapidly escalated. She knew he could feel her thumping within like a caught, wild rabbit.

When he did not continue his statement, Hermione breathless, asked, "The way you what?"

Draco sighed in her hair, whispering, "The way you make me feel, they'll know."

He actually felt so strongly for her, that he would have to put forth great effort to hide it? She bit her lip, shyly asking despite herself, "What's the way I make you feel?"

"Fucking mad," he admitted brokenly, softly kissing the exposed flesh of her neck and Hermione whimpered wantonly. Over the outside of her sweater, Draco's hands ascended up, slowly cupping her taut breasts, his long fingers digging in. He drove his hips roughly against her bum and Hermione gasped, staring back at him with a fluttering, but heavy gaze. Draco's expression was that of heated fury. His hardened length was straining prominently beneath his trousers, and he pushed onto her so she could feel it well. "I'm so mad for you, witch,"

"Ooh," she keened, her knees trembling as she braced her hand on his thigh.

"Yes, that's right," he grunted, his eyebrow cocked. He was going to lay it out for her. "It's all I can do not to think about your perfect little body against mine, how the fuck am I supposed to pretend I don't want this?"

This.

He twirled her from his embrace and she was facing him. He began pulling her jumper from the bottom up and Hermione dazedly, elatedly helped tear off the offending garment. Draco freed himself of his own jumper, staring into her eyes with ferocious intent as they unfastened the buttons of their white blouses.

They still bore their shirts, but allowed them to fall open, revealing their chests. Draco's was pure alabaster, his torso long and incredibly toned. Hermione wore a white, lace-lined bra beneath her scandalized uniform.

Then he was grasping her jaw with gentleness, brushing the hair from her face. Hermione tugged him nearer by the loosened tie swaying from his neck. He kissed her slowly, coarsely, invading but igniting her every sense. They felt on fire at every touch of their lips, every slip of the tongue.

Draco flipped her around again and Hermione found herself splayed on her stomach onto one of the desks. He leaned over her, hands on either side. He had his own agenda on his mind. "And you?" he questioned, scrunching her skirt up to her waist and exposing her bubbled arse, clad in white panties. "Do you like the way I make you feel, Granger?"

He quickly took his palm and smacked one of her perky cheeks. Hermione's breath caught in her throat, unable to speak at all, only groan intelligibly. The exhilaration inside her was frightening and overwhelming, but amazing.

His mouth found the hot, reddening spot he'd slapped and kissed it better. "Are you mad for me too?" Draco's breath roamed above her, clutching both cheeks in his hands as he dipped inward and laved his tongue against her sodden mound through her panties.

Hermione's back arched, disbelieving of the vulnerable position she was in, shocked by the dastardly acts Draco was doing to her. This was different than the first time, far more carnal. He ripped the undergarments over her bum and down her stockinged legs. She looked behind her, a bashful fist to her chin and watched Draco undo the front of his britches.

He slanted above her, gripping his solid shaft in his hand. He delve himself into her wetness and teasingly rubbed all around her folds without entering. She whimpered pitifully, glaring up at him from his cruel ministrations. Draco was chuckling darkly but groaning satisfyingly. His eyes were rolling to the back of his head – but he needed something first.

"Well?"

"What?" she peeped in her haze.

His hands came around her and harshly squeezed her tits. "I want to hear you say it," he purred, nuzzling into her. "I have to know you're mad about me."

Draco didn't know why it mattered so much, when after his task was through he was likely to never speak to her again but he just needed to know. Her body lusted for him, but did her mind? Did her heart yearn for him how his yearned for her? Didn't she get it? He was dangerously close to throwing everything away for her.

When he inevitably chose the side he had to, would she still think of him? He wanted to imprint himself to her so thoroughly that she could never forget him, so that no one else could compare to what he gave her these few moments they had shared. Even if she hated him.

Hermione wanted to look up at him but she couldn't, when he held her so close in his arms. "I..." she was mustering up her courage. Would he change his mind if she confessed her feelings? Could he not tell how much she felt for him? Why was this so hard to say? "I've always been mad about you, though not at all like this," He snickered heartily at that and a tiny grin graced her lips. That was true for both of them. "But now, these last few days, I can't... shake you," he was pulling and pinching on her pebbled nipples and she mewled in response from it in between words. "I-I want you, practically day and night. I can hardly get anything done... honestly nothing I've ever needed more than you inside me,"

He adjusted at her entrance and she was gasping as his long rod plunged so slowly into her tightness, inch by inch. Draco could already feel sweat lining his brow, "Wish granted," he groaned through his euphoria from above, wrapping an arm around Hermione's belly. They were basically standing upright over the desk. Draco pulled out a bit and pushed in again, his head swinging back from the intense, pleasurable silky friction of her flooding cunt swallowing him whole. His cock filled her to the very brim, over and over he slammed his hips against her arse which bounced onto him so deliciously, "Oh yes, fuck yes, Hermione," his voice was so guttural, so low and it turned her completely inside out as he spoke her true name for the first time.

She was wailing out drunken sounds of delight as Draco hit all those really good spots within her. Hermione barely had to do a thing, couldn't, as he just held her there with one arm and pounded into her relentlessly, mercilessly.

"It's soo good," she managed from beneath his chin and he moaned thickly. She wanted to praise him for how completely divine he was, his efforts, the rugged confidence with which he moved. "Oh yes, I-I love it so much, so good,"

"Yeah?" he growled almost disbelievingly, his pace picking up faster. "You love this?"

"Yes, oh yes,"

"Oh fucking hell,"

This was the best fuck he had ever had. Draco wanted to be able to have this, have her, whenever he could, whenever she wanted, whenever she allowed it.

The choice he didn't want to make? The one where he did not get to have sex with Hermione Granger for the rest of his life.

But he was going to have to.

His thrusts were so hard, so fast now, Hermione was fully leaning over the desk as he continued to take her, fisting her thick curls away so that he could admire the curves and dips of her back. Draco was glad he was lasting longer than his first time with her, savoring every precious second. This view of her was out of this world, with her picturesque round bum displayed for him beneath her hoisted skirt. He watched himself slide in and out of her juicy cunt, his fingers tightening around her hip as she screamed his name, "Draco, oh yeah, fuck,"

Hermione had never known how deep inside her she could be reached until this night. She had no idea sex was going to be this magnificent. The fuss? She understood it now.

Draco reared his hand back and slapped her nice and good over the arse twice, and he suddenly realized he had always wanted to do that to her. He had always wanted to spank the little swot's bare arse over a desk as he drove through her.

"You insufferable little vixen," Draco had no control over the sweet nothings which fell from him while he was inside this witch. He had never been so vocal with the others. Hermione was moaning, whimpering, her body glowing in the candlelight beneath him. She was the most beautiful creature.

He could no longer hold on and with a great grinding slam, Draco busted open, growling and grunting in wild satisfaction. He had never came so hard in his life, spilling himself into her right then.

An idea struck him. A vicious lie that would result in a not so welcome scenario but would solve his Hermione Granger problem. He could follow through with his task unscathed by her policing.

Draco collapsed over her, sweeping her ridiculous mass of curls away and pressing a tender kiss between her shoulder blades. His brain was reeling and his fingers dug into her a little too tightly before he ripped himself away from her.

Hermione instantly felt his absence with a chill in her bones. There was a sinking feeling in her gut, but with everything that was going on in that moment, she could not be sure what it meant. She began quickly getting dressed and fixing the materials of her uniform. Rounds were very soon, and she was going to have to bolt.

"I've got to go," she said, attempting but failing to flatten her sexed-up hair. "Rounds." Draco remained silent, brandishing his wand and casting a contraceptive charm where she stood. "I want to say something though," he nodded solemnly and Hermione watched as his Adam's apple bobbed nervously against the white skin of his throat. "You shouldn't have to pretend, Draco, you... you shouldn't have to forget about me." He was not looking at her and still, not a word from him as she chewed her bottom lip. "Just... just don't forget everything I've said to you, alright? There's still time."

She adjusted her long stockings and tossed her bag around her shoulder, heading for the door.

"Granger,"

Hermione looked back at him, taking in the curious gleam in his cutting, silver eyes. "Yes?"

Draco swallowed harshly, his mouth suddenly so dry. His hands subtly shook at his sides. "There's... there's still time."

There was a beat, and then she smiled at him warmly, a kindling hearth of high hopes in her gaze. "Right."

But Draco was not through with her tonight, he thought as the door clicked behind her. He had something else to say. When she was finished with her prefect chore, he would be waiting for her by the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

-o-

AN: I hope this was as exciting to read as it felt for me to write! If you enjoyed, please consider leaving a review! Part Five in the works. Thanks a bunch for reading and I hope you lovelies have a wholesome, lighthearted rest of your week xx