Apparently my chapter lengths are going to be longer from this point forward. I don't know...the characters are making decisions for me now. All future chapters aside from the last one are written! Thanks to my lovely beta. Betawork done by etoiledelune. Another shoutout to the WIPtember crew for their constant support. As always, thanks for being here! Also, with the rumors of FFN shutting down swirling, please know this fic is cross-posted on AO3 and Wattpad so it will still be available. peace and love, sam

Voices swirled around the room. Everyone was yelling and arguing about the right way to respond. Obviously, the Slytherins and Potter had seen their fair share of bad press. But the Gryffindors all thought that refuting the statement publicly would be the best course of action. The Slytherins thought a strategic campaign was required so that they looked sensible and more believable.

Tracey and Lovegood had joined them and just watched the chaos. Draco knew Tracey was calculating the best way to get everyone on the same side, as was her way. Lovegood was probably just watching their auras turn purple and glittery or something.

Draco couldn't be bothered to chime into the conversation. He was too busy watching Hermione.

They'd found her just staring at the paper. Frozen. Pale. Eyes glazed over.

She was in shock and hadn't noticed the others arriving until Draco gently pried the paper from her hands.

"Hermione?" he prompted tentatively. Theo held his hand out for The Daily Prophet and Draco passed it over without taking his eyes off his witch.

She hadn't responded but she gripped his hand so tightly that he felt bones shift. The rest of their group was reading the article and it was quickly getting out-of-hand.

"Not here," Pansy commanded. They quickly moved to an unused classroom and took up perches on desks or benches. Some of them remained standing, like Potter who was just pacing.

And now here they were. Fighting about how to solve this problem without even noticing that Hermione Granger hadn't said a single word or made eye contact with any of them the entire time.

Fucking oblivious idiots.

Draco wanted to scream at them to look at her. To look at the woman they were all talking about and demand that they help her first. They could fix this mess later but they needed to snap her out of this emotional coma before she broke.

Just as he was about to do just that, Luna Lovegood beat him to it.

"Perhaps Hermione would like to weigh in on the plan," she said in her calm, dreamy voice. "But I think maybe she might be processing it all right now."

The room suddenly fell silent and all eyes turned to Hermione. It was like they abruptly realised how very wrong this all was, how very strange she was acting. Potter looked absolutely horrified that he'd missed it—that he'd been such an absent-minded friend.

"Hermione? Talk to me, please," Draco whispered pleadingly, though he might as well have shouted it for as quiet as everyone else was.

Hermione shook her head slowly, staring fixedly at a point on the ground. Draco moved closer so that his leg was pressed against her. She was freezing—more so than usual—and Draco hoped that his body heat would jolt her out of this fugue state.

She opened her mouth and then closed it, her body curling in on itself. It was breaking Draco's heart to see her like this. So scared and…defeated.

"Malfoy," Potter said quietly. "Mind if I try?" Draco nodded but didn't move.

"I think—perhaps I should try alone."

"No," Draco snapped. "You're out of your fucking mind if you think I'm leaving her right now."

"Draco, let him try," Theo urged, clapping a hand on Draco's shoulder. "They were friends long before the rest of us were in the picture."

He didn't want to. He didn't want to walk away from her when she was struggling. Potter hadn't helped her when she needed him to so why would he trust this stupid sod to help her now?

Draco saw Hermione shiver slightly and some part of him ached to just take all her pain. To make it all stop. He'd endure the suffering if she got to be as carefree and happy as she'd been yesterday.

Which is why he decided to suffer through the torture that was letting her go in this moment.

He grabbed his robes from the chair behind him and transfigured them into the familiar fuzzy blanket from those nights in the library. He wrapped it around her and tucked her into the little cocoon.

"I'll be right there. You just say the word and I'm right back over here the second you need me, yeah?" Draco murmured into her curls. With a quick kiss to her temple, he left the room to let Potter try and get through to her.

—

It felt like Hermione was watching the scene play out on a stage. She was as much a part of the cast as she was a spectator.

She couldn't force herself to tell them what Ron had said.

She didn't want to talk about the article.

She didn't want to talk about Ron. Ever. Again.

Let him tell the press whatever he wanted, she didn't care. She wouldn't beat him at this because he was right. The wizarding world had happily labelled her a whore once before when she'd been a young girl, what would stop them from branding her as an adult?

Hermione was done. She couldn't muster the energy to do anything else about it.

Watching Draco's shoes disappear out the door stirred the panic that had been hovering in her chest since Ron had walked away from her. Where was he going? Where were they all going?

Was she going to face this alone? Again?

"Hermione?" Harry. Harry was still here. She should look at him.

No. Then he'd see that she was hanging on by the barest of threads. He'd see she was still so broken despite all her progress.

One fucking article and some cruel words was all it took to push her back to square one. Pathetic. Fucking pathetic.

"Please look at me. I can't—I want to be able to look you in the eyes for this," Harry begged. With what felt like Herculean effort, Hermione turned her head to look at a spot on his forehead—just above his eyes.

His mother's eyes, she thought. Lily Evans, another bright Muggleborn who'd been punished for dating the wrong man.

"I'm sorry. You followed me to hell and back and I—I just left you there. I moved on and you just suffered in silence. Like you always had," Harry said mournfully. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. You deserved so much better from me. Not because I'm the Chosen One—" a sarcastic smile that drew a small twitch of the lips from her "but because you're my best friend."

She finally met his eyes then. Both of them were on the verge of tears, now. What a pair they made.

Mighty Gryffindor war heroes, blubbering in empty classrooms.

"But this is not about me right now. This is about how to help you realise that Ron is scrambling. He's played all his cards now, but you haven't. Hermione, you have all the evidence. Memories. And you have Lavender," Harry spoke with such conviction that Hermione could feel a fire stirring.

"Merlin, can you imagine how you'd have reacted if I said that to you back in sixth year? Lavender Brown as an ally and friend…will wonders never cease?" he joked.

A small smile and very quick watery chuckle escaped Hermione.

"There you are, coming back to us now," he mused.

"Harry," she croaked. "I don't know that I can do this. I don't know that I can put this all out there for everyone to dissect. They'll have opinions…can you imagine what Skeeter will write if I speak to the press?"

"Skeeter will write whatever she wants. Find a new reporter. Tell them everything you want to tell them. And as for everyone else? They weren't there, Hermione," Harry said firmly.

"But I stayed. They'll crucify me for that."

"You also left," Harry argued. "You tried with him, Hermione. You tried to let him grieve and let it go. You tried. So many fucking times. You gave him so many chances, too many chances, and he threw each of them down the drain."

Hermione felt his conviction burrow deep into her soul. He reached for the hand that was slightly poking out from the blanket Draco had draped around her.

"You finally got sick of his shite, of his lies, of his manipulation. And. You. Left." He gently squeezed her hand with each word to emphasise his point. "That was brave. You knew it'd be hard and that he would be a twat about the whole thing. But you still left. You did the right thing and anyone who doesn't recognize that…fuck them."

"Could you imagine if I'd said that to you back in fourth year?" Hermione asked, trying to ease the tension.

"One, I would've been shocked at your language. You didn't used to use such filthy language, Miss Granger," he teased. "And two, I'm pretty positive that you did tell me to ignore the whispers of a certain blond Slytherin more than once over the years."

They both chuckled at that. Oh, how times have changed.

"So? What are we doing?" Harry asked, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a side-hug.

Well wasn't that the million-Galleon question. On one hand, she wanted to move on and leave the whole mess in the past. On the other, she knew it wouldn't stay in the past. If today proved anything, she couldn't just bury it under happy memories.

She'd need to say her part. She needed to tell her truth and confront all the feelings in the realm of public opinion. This couldn't be a secret that she carried around anymore or else it would taint all of the good she was finding in her life.

Maybe…she should call her old mind-healer.

"Call them all back in," Hermione sighed. Harry looked confused. "Oh, Harry…you didn't think they all left did you? No, they are all right outside the door. Probably trying very hard to not eavesdrop, but still right there."

Harry hopped off the desk and pulled the door open to find Blaise and Ginny on their knees, almost falling forward when the door that had been supporting them disappeared.

Theo just laughed and twirled his wand. Clearly, someone had cast a Silencing Charm and not told the others about it.

Harry helped Ginny up with a disapproving look.

Draco wasted no time entering the room and he was back at her side. Eyes flitting over her face, cataloguing any changes from the few minutes they were separated.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm good," she put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him close for a quick kiss. "Now, let's strategize."

Draco smiled at her, a smile filled with relief and pride. And they strategized. Hermione found a way to bridge the gap between the long-con plans developed by the Slytherins and the quick-fuse denials suggested by the Gryffindors.

They had a plan and Hermione would write to their reporter of choice later that day to set everything up. She would fight back this time. And she would fight back publicly, laying it all bare for everyone to see.

It was the only way this would work. She couldn't hedge her bets or look like she was being selective in the stories she told. The public would only be swayed if she had the better story. Ron had skimped on details—because he didn't actually have any. But she had everything.

Hermione was going to play her hand. And she'd bury Ron Weasley's reputation with it.

—

Draco barely remembered how the rest of the day had gone. He spent the classes with Hermione watching her and trying to anticipate what she needed. He spent the classes without her wondering how she was doing.

Now, they were holed up in their usual spot in the library. Hermione had shifted closer to him almost instantly after they sat down. Draco didn't mind, he'd let her do whatever she needed.

"I can't focus on Runes," Hermione whined. "I love Runes. But I just can't make myself care about these translations."

"But if you don't do them, then you'll only be four weeks ahead!" he mocked while twirling a curl around his finger.

Why did he ever make fun of her hair? It was marvellous. So much fun to play with and so soft. He mentally added this to another thing his younger self was an ignorant twat about.

"Har har," she grumbled. Hermione turned to look at him and rested her chin in her palm.

"Distract me," she demanded.

"I think you're the one doing the distracting," he mocked, making a show of studiously working on his own translations.

Hermione started poking his bicep and repeating his name, like a little kid begging for attention. Draco continued to ignore her but smothered his laughter by pressing his lips tightly together.

She huffed and shifted in her seat. Draco still refused to look at her, but then he felt a hand on his thigh which drew his attention to her.

Or rather, the empty chair she had been sitting in. His eyes dropped down until he saw her on her knees. He turned toward her and she settled herself into the gap between his legs.

"Finally got your attention did I?" she teased. Her hands inching up his thighs toward his belt buckle.

He was stunned. They hadn't done this and she'd certainly never taken control like this. He watched as she slowly unbuckled his belt and drew the leather through at a tantalising pace. Draco groaned when her hands left him to grab her wand and cast the silencing charm.

Hermione only smirked up at him before carefully putting her wand back in her bag. She took her time, pulling her hair behind her and putting it in a low, loose ponytail. His stunning witch pulled his zipper down and took him out of his pants.

Watching her lick her lips as she stroked him a few times was the ultimate seduction. Just when she leaned forward, mouth open, Draco had second thoughts.

Draco was not one to complain about an attractive and willing witch getting him off with her mouth. And his fifteen year old self would've smacked him up the back of the head for telling her no.

But she'd been through a lot of emotionally triggering things today. And she would go through even more once she sat down with a reporter.

Her drive and determination was such a turn on and he wanted her to be rewarded for that decision.

She deserved all the rewards and praise for doing the hard thing despite knowing what it would cost her.

"Hermione, not tonight," he said hoarsely.

"You always say that," she complained. "Is there something wrong? Are you worried about how I'll react? Because–"

"No. Don't do that. No," he commanded. "I could very well die a happy wizard right here if you sucked my cock, and I do think about it…often." Hermione leaned forward again. Draco gently threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her up to his face.

"But, I think it is my solemn duty to make up for lost time. To reward you for all the incredible," a kiss to left cheek, "brave," a kiss to her right cheek, "brilliant," a kiss to her jaw, "and selfless actions you've already done."

Hermione moaned and her hips shifted ever so slightly. Merlin, he loved how needy she got in bed. How she just wanted to chase her pleasure and let go.

It was exhilarating to bring her to this point.

"Consider it the unspoken part of my parole. I, Draco Malfoy, must repay my debt to wizarding society by giving one Hermione Granger, war heroine and Brightest Witch of Her Age, all the orgasms and pleasure she wants for as long as she'll have me."

Draco flipped them and moved his hands to her wrists. He encouraged her to grip the edge of the table. "Keep those there for me, please," he requested.

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. He watched her fingers flex along the wood.

"Good girl, Miss Granger."

She moaned loudly. "Oh god…well that's new."

Draco tsked as he drew one leg over his shoulder. "Is it? Are we really that surprised that you like a little professor/student roleplay?"

Her breathless laugh turned into a pleased groan when Draco dragged his tongue up the bare skin of her inner thigh. Oh, this would be fun.

"What was that? Did you say something?" He moved her skirt up and tucked the front hem into the band. His hands massaged her outer thighs.

"No, I—" she broke on a gasp as his teeth grabbed the band of her panties. "Prat."

"I don't know what you mean, I haven't said anything," he said innocently, looking up at her from his knees.

"But you're—you—oh…" Draco had pulled her panties to the side and was slightly blowing on her clit while his other hand inched around her arse and slid under the fabric of lace knickers.

She was glistening and her hips were lifting in miniscule motions, searching for friction. Draco placed an open mouthed kiss in the crease where her hip met her thigh. Then he put her out of her misery.

Draco dragged his tongue through her folds, slowly. Deliberately. But his nose bumped her clit as he went and Hermione squeaked at the sensation. He finally brought attention to that little bundle of nerves that was practically throbbing with need.

He sucked and licked. A few light nips of his teeth had Hermione panting and sighing above him. But then he felt fingers threading through his hair and he regretfully pulled away.

"Where did I tell you to keep those hands, darling?" Draco asked gently.

Hermione's frustrated groan preceded the retreat of her fingers. He looked across her thigh to see her resuming her grip on the edge of the table.

"Good girl," he said before resuming his mission. He brought her close to the edge over and over again. Until she was dripping down her legs and his jaw was starting to feel sore.

He didn't care if he'd have to drink through a straw for the next two days because of muscle strain, he fucking loved the taste of her. Loved to feel her hips grind against him as she lost herself to the totally selfish act of seeking her own pleasure.

But she hadn't moved her hands again, so Draco thought it time he finally gave into the begging he'd heard repeatedly falling from her lips. "Please" and "I'm so close" and "I want to…" interspersed with moans and pants.

So, Draco held her hips in place and maintained a steady and firm pressure with his tongue. Then he eased two fingers inside her as he sucked her clit, hard. Hermione shattered and the time spent teetering on the edge of release made her scream as she finally found the orgasm she'd been chasing.

Draco gently curled his fingers to help her ride out the length of her orgasm. Her walls spasmed around him and her hips continued a rolling motion as she came down. He watched her breasts rise and fall under the fabric of her white shirt while she panted.

Her head was thrown back and her curls were a waterfall down her back, the tips brushing the top of the table.

Draco moved his way up her body and stayed close to her as he rose. His face inches from her stomach, breasts, collarbone, and finally her face. He hadn't bothered to wipe off her arousal and he looked at her hoping she recognized how much he enjoyed this.

Her eyes were bright and clear under heavy lids and fanning eyelashes. She met his gaze and he saw her arms shift as though she were going to pull him forward.

But she stopped.

Because he hadn't said she could move them yet.

So instead she leaned forward to kiss him. And it was sloppy. Dirty. She moaned as she tasted herself on his lips and tongue. As the sticky wetness transferred from his cheeks to hers. Her legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer.

He was still so achingly hard for her. And she rolled her hips against his cock, still out of his pants from earlier.

"Draco, please," she begged into his mouth.

"Please what, love?" he asked as moved her hair aside and kissed slowly down her neck.

"Fuck me like I'm not breakable," she demanded. "Make me feel wanted and sexy. Make me feel strong."

"You don't need me for that," he said, looking into her eyes. "But if it helps…" And then he slammed into her.

Her gasp almost made him regret it, almost made him stop. But then she kissed him and whispered, "Yes."

So he took up a punishing pace. Draco gripped her hips so tightly, he worried about bruises. But Hermione was grinding against him and meeting each thrust eagerly.

She still hadn't moved her hands and her obeying that tiny order stirred something very primal in him.

He went harder, faster. He grabbed a thigh and drew it out wider to let him go deeper. Draco felt vicious but anytime he looked at Hermione, she was so lost in the pleasure that she barely seemed to notice.

Draco, after a single moment of hesitation, raised a hand to her throat and rested it there, using his thumb to rub a firm line along the straining tendons. Hermione could still breathe, still move. But the feeling was there, a pressure that he could increase if he wanted…but he wouldn't.

"So beautiful," he breathed into her neck. "Just perfect. Perfect for me."

Hermione was close, he could feel her tightening and the hitch in her breath…it was pushing him closer to the edge. Draco pulled back and looked at Hermione's flushed face, her mouth open and eyes closed.

He slid the hand on her throat up to cradle her jaw. "Open your eyes, Miss Granger," he commanded. And her lids rose slowly, like the movement was too difficult.

"Good. Just keep looking at me. Look at me like that." He sped up his pace and watched her eyes as she came around him. He stared deeply into those dilated pupils as he poured himself into her.

Draco let all the feelings for her flow through his gaze. Let her see that has much as he could fuck her hard and fast like she asked, he would love her the entire time. He would caress her and praise her before he ever hurt her.

They maintained that eye contact as they came down. Breaths mingling. When Draco finally pulled out, he took the time to clean them both up. Gently. Slowly.

He massaged the muscles in her calves, in her thighs. He took each hand off the table and rubbed her palms in soothing circles while he kissed her finger tips. Finally, Draco leaned his forehead against hers and placed a playful kiss on the tip of her nose.

Hermione scrunched her nose up at the gesture and let out a girlish giggle. So very unlike her but also so perfect for the moment.

"Was that too much?" he asked tentatively. Draco didn't want her to be hurt or upset, but he knew he'd probably left a bruise or two. And he hated that idea.

Hermione shook her head, her nose brushing his. "I'm a little sore. But the good kind of sore. And if I get full body massages every time we do it like that, I will not complain."

Cheeky little witch.

He snorted and his head fell to her shoulder. "Fair enough." He felt Hermione's hands on the back of his neck and smoothing over his back and shoulders. She kept up the repetition and he realised it was her way of soothing him. Of reassuring him.

He raised his head after a few minutes and offered her a hand to help her hop down. "Come on, let's go to bed. I'm suddenly very exhausted."

Hermione grabbed her bag from the floor, presenting him with a nice view of her arse. "Hmm, how exhausted? I was hoping for another round." Then the little witch winked at him over her shoulder and took off running through the library.

Draco laughed and quickly grabbed his belongings to rush after her.

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