Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling. That's who it belongs to. Yup.

A/N: From this chapter on, I'm stepping up the rating to R. Because--well--Pansy gets involved, and as we've all noticed, Pansy is a little on the I'm-a-whore side. So....yeah.

Draco woke gradually. He felt warm and safe for perhaps one of the first times in his life. His father had never abused him, but Draco had never felt particularly safe in his house. There was no love lost between the pair. And his mother was no help. She was a cold, heartless woman who watched her son with emotionless eyes whenever he came into a room. He had never had a real feminine presence in his life. Even though he loved Hermione, they argued a great deal. Never in earnest, but they usually squabbled. It was part of the dynamic of their relationship. But now he felt a warm feminine presence around him, and just let himself bask in the comfort that emanated from the feeling. He could feel the warm ground at his back, and the soreness in his body. Beneath his head was a soft body, and fingers moved absently and slowly through his hair. He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Hermione.

The sunlight filtered through the branches of the willow, and looking up at her as he was, it created a halo around her hair. He blinked rapidly, not quite sure of what he had seen, and the halo disappeared. Hermione smiled down at him, her eyes just as heavy-lidded as his. "Hi," she said softly, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Draco smiled up at her sleepily. "Hi," he murmured back. "Did you just wake up?"

She nodded and suppressed a yawn. "Yeah. I didn't want to wake you. You looked so peaceful."

Draco grinned lazily. " 'Peaceful'?"

She arched one eyebrow at him. "Yup," she said wickedly. "The great Draco Malfoy actually looked 'peaceful'. That's a shocker, isn't it?"

"Quite," he drawled. He sat up and waggled his fingers at her, his eyes heavy-lidded. "C'mere. I wanna hold you."

Obligingly, she lay down beside him as he rolled onto his back. She cuddled up against him, one hand resting on his heart and her head on his shoulder. He played absently with one wayward curl of her hair, fascinated by the different shades of brown in just one curl. They were silent for long moments until Hermione spoke quietly. "That wasn't a dream last night, was it? You were really in my room."

Draco's body tightened for a moment, then he made himself relax. "No," he said softly. "It wasn't a dream." Then he said nothing more.

Hermione nibbled on her lip as she remembered. Then she asked softly, "Why did you stop?"

Draco's body tightened as if he had been prodded with an electric shock. Finally he said quietly, "You were half asleep. I didn't want your first time to be like that. I want you awake." He said it in an amused voice, but she sensed the intensity vibrating in his words.

Hermione tilted up her chin to study his impassive face. She pressed a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I love you very much," she said simply, and his arm tightened around her.

"I love you too," he said, his voice sounding slightly choked. "I don't know why. I shouldn't."

Hermione stayed pliant in his arms instead of stiffening up as he had feared. "Why shouldn't you?" she asked him, her voice tranquil.

He hesitated, not wanting to worry her about his father's nebulous threats. So he told her a half truth. "Because you're a Gryffindor and I'm a Slytherin, honey. It's almost unheard of."

He felt her wilt slightly, and bit his tongue. He hated to make her unhappy, but he'd rather have her unhappy than burdened with his problems. "Yes," Hermione said sadly. "I suppose it is." Then she fell silent.

"Are you going to tell Potter?" Draco asked her softly. "Do you want me to be there?"

Hermione shook her head against his chest, burrowing a little closer to him. " Yes I'm going to tell him, and no, you can't be there. It will be bad enough when he finds out that you beat up Ron." She poked him in the ribs for that bit of stupidity and he grunted and fended off her offending finger.

"Stop poking me," he grumped. "I'm not going to apologize for it, Hermione. I did what I needed to do."

Hermione sighed in resignation. "We've already been over it, Draco. He was trying to keep me from going out alone."

"Which, I might add, was not one of your brighter moments," Draco growled, shaking her slightly.

She grumbled beneath her breath, but had to mentally agree. Going out alone without her wand hadn't been smart. But she'd had to prove to herself that she could do it. Stubborn witch that she was, Hermione thought ruefully, she could no less. She absently traced figures on Draco's chest. "What do you think those objects are that Dumbledore was talking about?"

Draco stilled and his hand clenched in her hair. "Something that you're not going to attempt to retrieve, I know that much," he said shortly. "So you can get that idea out of your head right this second, Hermione Elizabeth."

She grimaced. "I wasn't thinking about that." He craned his neck to give her a scornful look.

"Don't try to bullshit me, Hermione. I know what you were thinking."

She muttered and grumbled, but finally sighed. "Fine, fine. You're right, in any event. If Dumbledore can't even get them, then I certainly can't. So there's no point in me venturing into the Forbidden Forest, potentially running into Deatheaters and the like."

Draco narrowed his eyes at me. "Promise me that you won't go looking for them," he said quietly, his eyes intent.

Hermione hesitated, and Draco's eyes sharpened. "Promise me," he said sharply.

She sighed gustily. "Fine, fine, I promise," she said testily. "Happy now?"

He relaxed by degrees. "Slightly," he muttered. "I know you won't break your promise. You're too much of a Gryffindor."

She sniffed indignantly but didn't respond to that. "I wonder if Bill is still here," she said softly. "I'd like to talk to him. He looked really broken, Draco."

Personally Draco didn't give much of a damn about any of the Weasleys. Ginny was tolerable, mostly because she was a woman, had a speck of sense--unlike her brothers--and was Hermione's best friend. If he had to be in a room with any of the Weasley brothers for more than a hour he'd gladly avada kedavra himself. Ginny he could tolerate. But he knew that even though he didn't care about the Weasleys or Potter, Hermione did. So he bit his tongue and just nodded.

Hermione nibbled absently on her lip, barely noticing Draco's reticence. "I want to know what happened, Draco. Especially with those two Aurors that died. Cassie and Kevin? Was that their names?"

Draco nodded again, considering it. He hadn't heard anything from his father about any movements in the Deatheater forces. Maybe this had just been a group of rogue Deatheaters. He mused on that for a moment, then dismissed it. If some Deatheaters had gone rogue, they would be terrorizing Muggles, not trying to get closer to Hogwarts. Besides, rogue Deatheaters didn't last long, unless they were very canny spies. Voldemort didn't tolerate disloyalty.

Draco mentally mulled over the problem, barely noticing that Hermione was still basically talking to herself, figuring out the problem in her own way. He listened to her briefly:

"---I wonder what the objects could be? And I wonder how many Deatheaters were there? Maybe they wanted---"

He tuned her out and considered the problem himself. Although Hermione was an extremely smart and courageous witch, her rose-colored glasses were still firmly seated on her nose, although a little cracked. Draco had no such difficulty. He knew perfectly well that Voldemort would sacrifice hordes of Deatheaters if it gained him something he wanted.

So what, Draco mused, did Voldemort want?

Potter, was the immediate response. Those objects in the Forbidden Forest. That was, if Voldemort even knew of their existence. But since Dumbledore seemed oddly convinced that Voldemort was aware of these objects, then Draco concluded that he did indeed know where they were, or at least that they were in the Forest. The question was, did Voldemort think he had the strength to try to retrieve them? Or the reserves of Deatheaters to try to wear down the wards? Draco frowned, remembering that comment of Dumbledore's. Dumbledore had mentioned trying to wear down the wards, but that wasn't a common technique used to try to break wards that were raised around something, particularly something as powerful as these objects were supposed to be. So how did Dumbledore know that it was even possible to wear down the wards?

That thought raised a bevy of other conflicting thoughts. Dumbledore was obviously familiar with these objects. And he said that they were things of great power. Which meant that they had probably been documented somewhere. If Draco and Hermione wanted to know about them, they'd have to do research. Draco inwardly grimaced. Research was more of Hermione's area than his. He perked up at the thought, then grinned to himself. He'd just get her to do it.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she looked up at him with solemn eyes. "We're going to have to do research," she announced. "The objects will be talked about in books if they're so all-powerful. So we'll have to go to the library."

Dammit, Draco sighed. Foiled again. When Hermione started to get up, obviously ready to head for the library right then, Draco pulled her back down. "C'mon, Hermione. We can do it later," he said persuasively. "Let's just stay here for a while."

Hermione hesitated, torn between the desire for knowledge and the desire to stay close with Draco. Finally she sighed and sank back down beside him. "You know, you're a real pain in the ass," she muttered as she settled back into the crook of his arm. He grinned crookedly at her and twirled one curl of her hair around her finger.

"I know," he said cheerfully. "What time is it? We want to make sure that we're gone before everyone returns from Hogsmeade."

Hermione glanced at her watch, which was blinking 'Two minus one equals. . .' Hermione glared at the watch. She hated math. Her parents had given her the watch in second year in the only time that they had ventured into Diagon Alley. The stupid watch just involved too much math for her on a daily basis. "It's one o' clock," she muttered, lowering her wrist.

Draco nodded. "Tell me about Muggles," he said impulsively, and Hermione gaped up at him.

"I beg your pardon?" she sputtered.

He glared down at her and sniffed indignantly. "It's not that shocking, Granger. After all, I'm dating a witch who's Muggle-born."

Hermione blinked up at him with huge eyes. "But--Draco--you don't like Muggles."

"My father doesn't like Muggles," he corrected her. "I don't much care for them either, but then I haven't really been exposed to any. But from what I've heard they're filthy creatures." He said the last with all the pomp and arrogance that only pureblood wizards could achieve.

Hermione glared at him and hit him. He grunted, rubbing at his sore ribs. "What was that for?" he muttered.

"For saying something like that! My parents are Muggles and they are not filthy creatures, Draco Malfoy!"

"All right, all right," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Your parents aren't filthy creatures," he said dutifully. "Are you happy now?"

She glared at him suspiciously and at his gentle tug settled back into the curve of his arm. "Well, since you feel that way I feel like it's my duty to educate you," she said loftily. Draco rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. She was so adorable when she was irritated.

She opened her mouth, then hesitated, not quite sure where to begin. The Muggle world was so vast and different from the wizarding world. It was like trying to explain a rainbow to a blind man. Eventually she brightened. "I know! I can just show you!"

Draco arched his eyebrows. "How are you going to do that? We can't leave Hogwarts."

"That's okay," she said with a mischievous grin. "We'll just go to my room. I have some Muggle things there."

As Hermione bounced to her feet and brushed herself off, Draco smiled wickedly. So they were going to her room, were they? He rose more slowly and picked up her satchel and slung it over his shoulder, his eyes glittering with all his familiar Slytherin devilish glee. Hermione glanced around for her satchel and saw that Draco already had it. She smiled and kissed his cheek for his thoughtfulness. It always surprised Draco how easy she was to please. The smallest things made her unbelievably happy. He loved to surprise her, to do things that she liked just to see the way that her eyes lit for him.

Hermione emerged from the shield of the willow branches and glanced around. The grounds were deserted, but she started walking purposefully toward the castle anyway. Draco followed a moment later, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, looking deep in thought. Once inside the castle, they maintained a careful distance; Draco about ten feet behind her. Once they got to the Fat Lady painting, the Fat Lady sniffed at them. "So it's you two again."

"Yes," Hermione said politely. "The password is bloomsbury buggies."

The Fat Lady looked slightly mollified and swung open at a stately pace. Hermione went inside and peered into the common room. It was completely deserted, so she ushered in Draco. She grabbed his hand and dashed up to her room, giggling. Even Draco was grinning, unable to resist her boundless enthusiasm as they dashed up the stairs and into her room. She closed the door behind them and locked it. Didn't want Ginny walking in on something inappropriate, Hermione thought mischievously. She was a prefect, after all. Had to set an example. The thought made her grin.

Draco glanced around her room. It was meticulously neat except for the bed, which was in the same disarray as his had been when she left it. Her large bay windows were spreading light throughout the room. She had a whole bookcase in her room filled with books. There were piles of books beside it, as she had run out of space in the bookcase itself. Against one wall was her long dresser, on which she had her girly things. Fascinated by them--he had never seen feminine things--he walked over to it and lightly touched a perfume bottle with his fingertips. He lifted his fingers to his face and smelled her scent on his skin.

"So this is why you smell so good all the time," Draco murmured, not glancing at her.

"I suppose so," Hermione said softly, watching him as he looked at her all her things. Tears wanted to come, but she pushed them away. He was so out of place in her room. Despite that there were no flounces or lace, the room had an undeniable aura of femininity. And he was very definitely masculine. But he fit somehow. He fit with her. Who would have thought? she thought sadly, tears welling in her eyes again. She swiped at them impatiently and watched as he touched gentle fingers to a picture of her with her parents. She was laughing in the picture, her eyes sparkling and her teeth bared in a huge grin. She couldn't have been more than six, with the same deep brown eyes and same mouth that was quick to smile, even then.

"You were cute," Draco said softly, his mouth curving in a small smile. Behind his back, Hermione swiped away another stray tear.

Look at me, she thought with a rueful sigh. As bad as a watering pot and he did nothing except look at me in a picture when I was little. You've got it bad. But when Draco turned to look at her, her eyes were dry, and she was smiling at him. Draco felt his throat clutch a little when he saw her.

She was illuminated in a pool of warm sunlight, and her smile was lovely. Her eyes shone. She held out her arms to him, and he walked toward her and put his around her. He felt her hands move against his back, and he buried his face against her throat. Her hands tangled in the strap of the satchel that he was still wearing, and she drew away. "Here," she said softly. "Let's take this off." He stood passively as she pulled the satchel off and laid it on the floor. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. He just looked down at her, and his thumb brushed over her cheek.

She reached out and laid trembling fingertips against the top button on his shirt. He felt his breath break, and he stood silently as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. She took a deep, steadying breath as all the buttons came undone, and slowly pushed the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall unheeded to the floor.

She licked her lips as he was bared from the waist up. She touched soft fingertips to the defined muscles in his stomach and felt them ripple beneath her touch. A giddy thrill went through her as evidence of her power over him swept through her. She brushed her hands up along his chest and over his strong shoulders, reveling in her power to touch him as she chose. He watched her with eyes that burned, but didn't touch her. Her fingers slid over his neck and tangled in his hair for a moment.

"You're beautiful," she said softly, raising her gaze to meet his.

He laughed harshly. "You've got that mixed up, love. You're the beautiful one here."

Mesmerized, Hermione shook her head slowly as she touched him and felt his tension wind tighter and tighter with each brush of her fingers. "No," she said, warmth spreading through her. "You're beautiful. The way mountains are beautiful. The way the sunrise is beautiful."

His hands went to her hips abruptly, as if he couldn't stop himself from touching her anymore. He stared down at her as she looked up at him. "May I?" he asked her very softly, and she nodded, still looking up at his face.

His slid his hands beneath her shirt and felt her stomach quiver as his hands brushed over it. He drew the shirt over her head, leaving her in nothing more than her pants and bra. Her body gleamed in the warm sunlight and gold gilded her skin. She stepped up against him and her arms went around him, her hands moving slowly over his bare back. He pressed a kiss to the junction of her shoulder and neck and felt her shiver in his arms.

Draco felt almost dizzy. He had never experienced something like this before. His time with Pansy had been heartless and cold. He had walked away from screwing Pansy and not felt anything. In the beginning with Hermione, she had already been worming her way into his heart, so it hadn't been like that. But he hadn't cared about her as much as he did now. Even last night had been different. That had been almost surreal, like a dream. Now it was broad daylight, and she was completely awake. When she looked at him, he felt ten feet tall and like he could take on the world. He had barely touched her, yet it felt almost unbearably intimate. He had never felt closer to another person in his whole life as he did right now to Hermione Granger.

He brushed his knuckles over the swell of her breast and felt her tremble before she locked her knees. He smiled down at her, his eyes as warm as a liquid sea of mercury. "Don't want you falling now, love," he murmured, and laid her on the wrinkled bed.

He stood there a moment to admire her. She lay sprawled on the bed as if she were a pagan sacrifice. The virgin sacrifice to the dragon, he thought dryly before he shoved away those thoughts. He crawled up on the bed and stretched out beside her. She looked up at him with eyes that held a touch of apprehension. "Draco--" she whispered. "I'm a little scared."

"Don't be scared," he whispered, his eyes gleaming. "I'd never hurt you, Hermione. I swear it on my life."

"Promise it," she said suddenly, her voice fierce. She gripped his fingers with odd intensity. He blinked, startled at her change of mood, then nodded slowly. "I promise it," he said quietly. She relaxed against the bed again and looked up at him with complete trust in her eyes.

"Touch me," she said softly. "Please."

He sucked in his breath, feeling his heart hammer wildly. But despite the turmoil inside him, his fingers were gentle as they skimmed over her skin that had been warmed by the sunlight. He locked down the things that he wanted and his body clamored for. She wasn't ready for those things. This time was completely for her. To show her how much he loved her. If he couldn't express the multitude of feelings inside him adequately in words, perhaps this would illustrate them. She unbuttoned her pants herself and threw them away, then did the same with his.

He skimmed a fingertip lightly along the inside of her thigh and felt her body tremble violently. He stopped and glanced up at her. "Feel good?" he said softly, and saw her bite her lip.

"Yes," she said, her voice a little strangled. "Yes, good."

He smiled to himself and pressed light kisses to her belly and moved his way up. She twisted beneath his ministrations, her breath coming more quickly. When he finally slipped into her what seemed like hours later, she gasped as pain seized her. Her fingers dug into his back and tears sprang to her eyes.

Draco pressed kisses to her face and resisted the urge to move. His muscles trembled before he locked them. Don't move, don't move, he chanted to himself, frantically trying to remember his multiplication tables. Anything to keep from losing control. Finally he saw her ease, although there was an odd look on her face. "Are you okay?" he gasped out, trembling from head to foot with strain.

"Yes," she said, blinking up at him. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Thank Merlin," he muttered in relief, and moved within her. She arched her back with a cry and clutched at him. When the end finally came for both of them, he collapsed on top of her in exhaustion. They lay in silence for long minutes before Hermione pressed a gentle kiss to Draco's throat.

"You're a wonderful man," she said softly.

He muttered unintelligibly against her neck. Smiling to herself, Hermione wrapped her arms more tightly around him, tears of joy standing in her eyes. Mixed with the joy was a little sadness. She wasn't a virgin anymore. She had given herself completely to Draco in every way that she knew how. She had given herself--body, heart and soul. He held her life in his hands, whether or not he knew it. She just hoped that he was careful with it.

Finally Draco stirred and raised on his elbows to look down at her. "Are you okay?" he asked her, his voice rough, and she kissed him tenderly.

"Yes, darling," she said quietly. "I'm very okay." Then she smiled beatifically at him. His jaw tightened and he kissed her. She tasted desperation in his kiss and held him close, responding to him with everything that she had in her.

He drew away from her, his eyes hard and intent. "Marry me," he grated out.

Hermione gaped up at him, her mouth swollen. "What?" she gasped.

"Marry me," he repeated. "Merlin, marry me, Hermione. I don't know how to live without you."

Hermione stared at him and then burst into tears. He blinked down at her, then glared. "Well is being my wife so bad?" he huffed. He stood it another minute, then sighed in defeat and cradled her close. "I'm sorry, darling," he crooned. "Don't cry, don't cry. I understand--you don't want to marry me right now. It's okay. Don't cry."

"It's not that," she sobbed. "I want to be your wife. But--but Draco, what about your father? He hates me. He hates Muggle-borns. What will he do?"

"Damn my father," Draco snarled. "I'm not going to let him live my life for me."

Hermione looked up at him, biting her lip. "But Draco--everyone will know. You didn't want anyone to know."

Draco looked down at her, her cheeks still flushed from their loving, and felt like he would drown with his love for her. "I don't care," he said softly. "I don't give a damn. I never did."

Hermione blinked up at him, startled. "But--you didn't want anyone to know! Even when I suggested going public, you didn't want to!"

Draco shrugged restlessly, unwilling to tell her the circumstances that had prevented their relationship from becoming public. "I don't care anymore," he admitted. "I want you in my life, Hermione."

Hermione's mouth trembled once as she laid her palm against his cheek. "You don't have to offer marriage to have that, Draco," she said softly. "You have me for as long as you want me."

His eyes burned down at her and he swallowed down the lump in his throat. He was a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. Slytherins didn't cry. Instead he pressed a feverish kiss to her lips, then withdrew almost immediately. "My father is not an issue," he told her firmly. "This is between you and me. That's it. Now tell me, Hermione Elizabeth Granger-- will you be my wife?" His voice was soft, and she could have listened to it forever.

She smiled up at him, tears glittering in the depths of her eyes. "Yes," she said simply. His face split into a grin and he swooped down to hold her possessively close.

He looked down at her with sober eyes. "I won't be an easy husband," he admitted. "I'm a pain in the ass and set in my ways a great deal of the time."

Hermione's mouth quirked in a smile. "You think I don't know that?" she teased. "You're not telling me anything new."

He made a face down at her and continued. "I'm possessive and overprotective. It bothers me to see you around Potter and Weasley."

Hermione sobered immediately and laid one hand on his and curled her fingers around his. "Draco, you have nothing to worry about. But they're my friends. Don't make me give them up." She looked up at him with beseeching eyes, and he swore softly and raked his hand through his hair, making it stand on end.

"You're bad for my willpower," he muttered, and she smiled and pressed a kiss to his fingers.

"No, I'm good for your bad habits," she corrected him, and he made a face.

"Well see about that," he muttered grumpily. He looked down at her with steady eyes. "No one can know about it until it's done," he said quietly. "Not even Ginny. I don't want my father to have a chance to sabotage it. Once it's done, it's done. There's nothing he'll be able to do about it. So no one can know, Mione."

Hermione sighed heavily. "More secrecy?" she asked sadly. "When will I be able to walk down the hall and hold your hand, Draco, and not worry about anyone seeing?"

"I'm sorry, baby," Draco said apologetically, sighing. "But that's the way that it has to be. I don't want to take chances with you."

She looked up at him with clear eyes. "Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm helpless, Draco," she said steadily. "I can take care of myself."

"I don't think you're helpless," he denied hotly.

She just smiled and didn't respond. Then she drew his head down to her for a kiss. "Enough of this talking," she said with a serene smile. "We're engaged. I just want to lie here with you."

Draco quirked one eyebrow at her. "Just lie here?" he said, grinning, and she grinned back at him with perfect accord.

"For now," she said, winking. "But I make no promises about later."

Draco laughed delightedly and then lay down beside her and drew her against his shoulder, feeling an empty space in his heart fill.