Title: And She Will Be Loved

Author Name: Melissa Spitfire

Author email: melissa underscore spitfire at yahoo dot com

Category: Romance

Sub Category: Angst

Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror

Rating: R (slightly in this chapter)

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where

Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me! ::grins sheepishly:: And you were forewarned, this is slightly lime in nature. Hehe.

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Verse Four: Butterfly Sleep

Tap on my window knock on my door

I want to make you feel beautiful

I know you tend to get so insecure

But it doesn't matter anymore

Hermione wanted desperately to cry.

She had tried everything to get back to Muggle London, and for almost all day, her efforts have been in vain. Even bribery wouldn't even work!

"Hermione..." Neville whined as he sat down beside her and handed her a glass of pumpkin juice. "Harry and Ron asked me to watch over you while they're gone, yet you haven't really eaten anything decent since they left! Do you hate me so much that you continuously ignore my concern because you want them to hex me into oblivion?"

"I don't hate you, Neville. I'm sorry about that. It's just that... Can't I do something to see my parents? I hate feeling so helpless." Hermione cried out, her glass of pumpkin juice spilling slightly. She couldn't possibly tell Neville about her troubles; he himself had many things bearing down on him. His parents were still in St. Mungo's, his grandmother just got out of the hospital because of a disease inflicted by a goblin, his relationship with Lavender isn't exactly going smoothly, and Harry and Ron even asked him to watch over her. She couldn't possibly burden him more.

Hermione's gaze was transfixed on the bubbly pumpkin juice that she didn't notice Cho sit down beside her.

"Hermione, I tried my best, but..."

She looked up from her glass and smiled sadly at Cho. "It's all right, Cho. Thank you for trying. Thanks for helping."

Cho returned the smile with a cheerful one. "No problem."

"I know how it feels, Hermione... To have your parents..." Neville trailed off.

Hermione squeezed his hand affectionately. "Nev..."

Neville sighed. "... If only I had enough powers like You-Know-Who had, or even Harry's, maybe I could help you. Sadly, I don't practice the Dark Arts..."

Hermione dropped her goblet.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Both Neville and Cho asked her.

She nodded silently as she saw Cho clean up the mess she made. Neville's words dug into her brain. Everyone in Hogwarts knew that Voldemort and Harry were one of the most powerful wizards to ever live, and there were just a few who could match their powers. Dumbledore was still in Hogwarts, though she didn't think that he would be willing to help her, and Voldemort is already resting in peace (and it isn't like she would ask for his help anyway). Now Harry is in Germany, and the only one who could match up with him was Ron, who is also currently in Germany, and she, who is blatantly banned to gain access to every port and restricted areas...

... But then, there ::is:: another one who could match up to Harry, Ron or her... And is within the vicinity...

Finally, it clicked in her mind. "What time is it?"

"Uhm... Two twenty-four." Neville answered. "Why?"

She stood up from the chair and plucked her coat from the coat hanger. "I-I have to go... Thanks for helping, Cho, Neville." And she ran out of the building and into the street, Neville's words repeating in her mind like a broken record.

... Sadly, I don't practice the Dark Arts...

------------------------

Hermione stood in front of a tall building that was rising up the overcast sky and towering above the business district. She had always passed by the Wizarding Business Center, but she never really stopped to admire the structures that now resembled the muggle high-rise skyscrapers.

She never expected to see herself one day standing like this. But when it comes to her parents, or for anyone important to her, she would cross whatever boundaries or restrictions laid out before her to do whatever it takes.

Taking a deep breath and gathering all the strength that she could muster, Hermione pushed the revolving door and stepped into the glass building.

'Here goes nothing...'

------------------------

"Pansy, you know what I'm talking about."

"Honestly, Draco? I don't." Pansy retorted.

Draco sipped his vodka from his wine glass while looking out of the window. "You said so that you'll meet this weekend."

"Oh," Pansy nodded in understanding. "That. Remind me to tell you to be more specific next time."

Draco turned from the window to Pansy. "Pansy, please tell me that I have to be specific next time." He spoke dryly.

"Next time, Draco, be specific." Pansy retorted from her chair.

Draco snickered at their foolishness, but it immediately vanished when he saw a sapphire-clad figure linger in front of the Malfoy Towers. He wasn't mistaken. "Pansy...?"

"What now, Lord Malfoy?"

"I think Blaise is waiting for you already." Draco walked away from the window and sat down on his chair.

"Hmmm, I think not." Pansy retorted. "It's only three in the afternoon. We meet at four."

"Then I suppose you should leave. Don't want to make him wait, right?"

"Oh, you know him. He'd be the tardy one."

Draco almost hissed in annoyance. "You better be early so you have something to taunt him for."

"Are you sending me away?" Pansy raised an eyebrow at him. At Draco's lack of answer, she scowled. "All right, all right!" She stood up and gathered her things. "You owe me for this and for Saturday, Draco. Big time." She smiled smugly before heading out of the office.

------------------------

"Sir, Whimsy says someone is looking for Master Draco, Sir. Whimsy asked if visitor made an appointment, but visitor said it was an emergency. Should Whimsy let visitor see Master?" The elf babbled, and Draco almost laughed at the stupidity of his speech. Couldn't the elf do much better?

"I'm expecting that. Let the visitor in, Whimsy."

"Certainly, Master."

A few seconds later, the double doors opened, and the visitor strode in silently.

"I am awed by your display of Gryffindor bravery." Draco commented. "You just stepped into the enemy's lair. What would Golden Boy say?"

Hermione stopped in front of his desk, her face stoic. "Malfoy."

"Granger." Draco motioned her to sit on the chair across him.

Hermione complied. "Malfoy, I..."

Draco could see how Hermione was fidgeting. Ah, maybe she has changed her mind? "I know I'm irresistible, Granger, but do you miss me so much that you couldn't take not seeing me?"

Hermione scowled. This is not the time for his teasing. "That's not what I came here for."

"No?" He raised an eyebrow. "That's too bad. But I understand that, you're still in denial. Don't worry." His lips formed into a smug smile.

"Cut the crap, ferret." She rolled her eyes.

"Then what is so important that," Draco stood from his chair to stand near her chair. "... Mudblood Granger decided to honor me with her presence?"

Hermione tried her best to remain calm. "Malfoy, about... About two nights ago, I..." She trailed off. She didn't notice Draco actually had color on his pale cheeks. "No, I just... I just wanted to ask you if..."

Draco averted his eyes from her, his eyes focusing on the huge painting of their family at the corner. Truth to be told, he didn't know what came over him two days ago. Blaise and Pansy were just grating on his nerves, and he felt the need to get away from them before he did something severe. Besides, what he did was something unintentional… but not unwelcome. He couldn't help himself. It was just that… She looked so… so… So beautiful that night…

Is he going soft?

Draco Malfoy, famous heir of the Malfoys, cold-hearted and dyed-in-the-wool prat, was going soft? 'And pigs went flying!'

But of course, he wouldn't admit to that. So instead, he tried to divert the discussion. "Ask me what? If I would be charitable enough to take you in after you leave Potty and Weasel? If I would give you a job when you leave them? Well guess again, you had your chance. And you passed on it." Draco scoffed at her, digging his heels on the emerald carpet.

"Oh will you grow up, Malfoy?" She snapped.

"I did, Granger. Or are you blind enough?" He retorted as he gestured his hand towards his head, obviously pointing at his tall figure.

"Look..." Hermione heaved. "I-I-I came here to ask for... For your help..."

Draco cocked an eyebrow at her. "Help?" He laughed. "Help! High and mighty Gryffindor Granger comes to the slimiest, sneakiest, most diabolical Slytherin for help? That's about one of the most hilarious things I've heard!"

Hermione laughed sarcastically, though deep inside, she was silently breaking. She closed her almond eyes as her vision blurred, her tears threatening to fall. "Malfoy... I thought you've changed... At least, two days ago when you just... I should have known… N-Never mind… I-I-I shouldn't have thought about it... Sorry for disturbing you..." She shook her head and stood up, straightened her soft, sapphire velvet robes before turning towards the door.

'She's walking away?' He thought incredulously. What ever happened to all that huge valor she had in her that made the stupid excuse of a Sorting Hat place her in Gryffindor? Where was the lucid thinker that competed with him in school? Where was the bookworm, the brainy, bushy-haired and nosy girl that he had known way back? Was this the effect of Harry Potter's valiant escapades, change her into someone she wasn't?

Draco gritted his teeth in anger as he dug his heels deeper into the carpet, his hands forcing themselves to clench and unclench to calm his nerves. If this was what Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley did to her, then he must take drastic measures. He couldn't just let her walk away, that would mean that she admitted defeat. He had to do something, or else…

… Or else she wouldn't be the otter, the teachers' favorite, studious, know-it-all, Head Girl, bushy-haired and buck-toothed Mudblood Hermione Granger that he…

Draco shook his head as he looked down, a slight sneer gracing his features. "You'll never change, Granger. Fine, run away! Run away from whatever problems you have and wallow in despair just like you always do, pathetic Gryffindor!" He looked at her retreating back, glaring at it ominously and silently challenging and pleading for her to turn around and fight him.

Hermione stopped taking strides and took a few deep breaths, before turning back to walk briskly towards Draco. When she reached him, she felt all her terrible experiences leaking out of her heart; she didn't even care that her tears were flowing freely down her cheeks, and that of all people, it was Malfoy seeing her. She balled her fists in anger. "You evil, despicable, slimy git! How dare you!" She couldn't control herself anymore that she vented out her anger on him and hit him with her fists.

Draco stood as stiff as a board as Hermione pounded hard against his chest and began calling him colorful names. He kept his cool, knowing from experience that women were emotional, and gave her the liberty of abusing his chest by using it as a punching bag.

Hermione swung her fists blindly at his torso, feeling all of her anger gushing out freely. "... You think you know me when in fact you don't know me at all! Just because you're a Malfoy doesn't make you any better than who I am, you, you dirty, scheming, insufferable, scumbag!"

He could practically feel his veins popping out on his forehead with every insult she threw at him, but being a gentleman, he kept his hands to himself, however the urges to hit back was getting stronger and stronger by the moment.

"... Purebloods, mudbloods, as if it made a difference! You stupid, arrogant, arsehole!"

Last straw.

Hermione gasped when Draco took firm hold of her wrists. "L-Let me go... Let me go, you incorrigible prick!" She shouted as she pried herself out of his grasp, but her attempts were futile, because a former Quidditch player (and one of the greatest seekers at that) was far more powerful than a pathetic bookworm like her. Feeling utterly miserable and drained, her hands slowed from pounding at him until it was just merely tapping on his chest, before she totally stopped in her struggle. Hermione felt really spent, her choked sobs echoing throughout the large office, and she unceremoniously grabbed his shirt and leaned on Draco's figure. "Why? Why, Malfoy? I'm... I'm tired of everything... I-I-I don't know what to do anymore..."

He was burning with fury, not because a certain mudblood's hands were rumpling his immaculate coat and soaking his robes with salty tears, but because everything and everyone around her were so unfair. He was human enough to feel pain, and it somehow twisted his heart when Hermione leaned against him for support. He also knew the feeling of everything turning against him, or his efforts going in vain, and no matter how he told himself to never show compassion to anyone, he couldn't help but do just that to one of the people he considered as his mortal enemy. Hesitantly, he raised his hand to smooth her locks, while the other held her tightly to him.

"... I was always protecting other people yet... My parents... Harry and Ron... Neville's gran... I can't protect those who are dear to me..." Hermione spoke minutes later after her sobs calmed down.

Draco felt an irrational tingle start from his heart and spread throughout his systems. He couldn't possibly be of help to her anymore. All these years, the things he did to her only caused her pain and sufferings. Whenever he opened his mouth, he would always say the right words to push her buttons. What else could he do now? Laugh at her misery? Taunt her in her bothered state to make her confused? Call her mudblood like he always did?

"... They wouldn't even let me see them..."

Draco felt her tense against him again. "Granger." He spoke, and when Hermione looked up at him with her tear-stained face, his heart broke in half.

"M-M-Malfoy?"

"Come with me."

------------------------

Hermione felt guilty all of a sudden. Maybe the Gryffindors really have been too gossip-hungry that many of the things they have been talking about in the common room were plainly gossip and had no truth in them.

Malfoy Manor was nowhere near the old castle that they picture it to be -- set on a hill with a humungous, scary black gate, with a draw bridge above a bottomless pit that connects the gate to the mansion grounds, huge statues of gargoyles and scary, evil people that come to life at night lining the walls of every hallway, and that it totally reeked of nothing but evil.

In fact, it was a very homely place. There is a tall, brass gate in front, and towering brick walls that protect the house from intruders. The house flaunted the Slytherin colors, and the hallways were indeed filled with statues -- statues of different artistic tastes and angels -- and portraits... Not of evil people (or are they?), but of the ancestors of the Malfoys, who eerily resembled each other. 'They really are the purest of all purebloods,' she thought.

"Oof!"

Hermione felt her world spinning, and she thought she saw the paintings snickering at her. Then, all of a sudden, the spinning stopped.

She shut her eyes tightly and forced herself to concentrate in the darkness of her mind when a voice interrupted her mini-pep talk.

"I know you admire the paintings of my ancestors as much as you admire me, but do watch where you're going, Granger."

Hermione opened her eyes and saw Draco's hands grasping her upper arms, and his face staring at her wickedly, an eyebrow raised. "Sorry." She apologized.

She thought she saw Draco nod his head a little before turning to walk away, but it was like an illusion. Maybe that was the effect of the bump. But really, she was already wondering where the hell Draco was leading her, what with the many staircases they descended, hallways they walked past on, and corners they rounded. Draco never answered when she asked him (for around six times already) where they were headed to, and she was starting to worry that maybe he'd lead her to a secret meeting and make her a virgin sacrifice for whatever purpose they had. But being Hermione, she wouldn't stop until she got her answer. Like right now.

"Malfoy, where are we going?"

And as expected, no answer came.

A few minutes later and another flight of stairs, Hermione stopped in her tracks. "Malfoy! Did you hear what I've been asking you since we apparated here? Where are we going?"

Draco stopped walking as well, but he didn't turn around to look at her. "Somewhere." He walked again.

She stomped her foot on the green carpets. "No! I swear Malfoy, I won't take another step until you tell me where we are heading to!" She yelled, crossing her arms across her chest.

Draco stopped walking and turned to her. "You said you wanted to see your parents, Granger."

"Well, yes, but--"

"You do. So just close your mouth, follow me and I'll help you." Draco retorted through gritted teeth.

"But how do I know that I could trust you to help me?"

"Are you saying you don't?"

"Well..." Hermione's cheeks were slightly pink. She doubted him all those years when he first joined the Order, but then, he had helped a lot in acquiring data from Voldemort's lair together with Snape. He even saved Harry from the Avada Kedavra that Voldemort threw when Harry was not looking, placing himself in danger, but then... He hasn't changed a bit. He was still an arrogant, pompous Slytherin.

... And most of all, the thought that made her blush deeper, was that two days ago he just... Snogged her... But even though she enjoyed the passionate hormonal rush that they both experienced, he was still Draco Malfoy...

"Well, n-not really..." She managed to answer while she was pretending to rub her eyes in exasperation when in fact she was just trying to hide her blush. "I-I mean, how do I know that you wouldn't lead me into a secret tribunal with people who wanted me to be killed and--"

"Be offered to a twisted, manipulative, power-hungry and horny evil being as a virgin sacrifice?" He finished, and he felt a smirk tugging on his lips at her obvious thinking. "I thought that you were thinking along the same lines, Granger. That's why I'm giving you a choice now. Go back and try to change the events in Muggle London with your broken time turner and get stuck in that hour glass forever, or muster enough of your Gryffindor valor to trust me with this?"

Draco's pewter gaze landed on hers, and she suddenly felt like she was being pulled into the depths of them.

Hermione managed to pull away. She sighed, partly in relief and partly in resignation, before answering him. "Okay. I trust you." She conceded.

"Let's just apparate downstairs." She heard Draco say before he pulled her in and they vanished with a pop.

------------------------

The moment their feet touched the cold floors of the dungeon, Draco saw Hermione drop dead on the black marble floor.

With an exasperated sigh, he kneeled beside her and shook her lightly. "Granger... Granger, we're back. Granger..." Draco touched her forearm and squeezed it lightly to get her to wake up. "Granger." He said in a much louder voice. "We're back, you already saw your parents. Wake up." He shook her again.

Showing no signs of waking up, Draco clucked his tongue in annoyance. "I should've known she wasn't strong enough. Tsk. Granger and her feminist ideas..." He muttered before lifting her up into his arms. He was surprised at how light she felt. He scowled. 'Is she even eating?'

He climbed up the flights of stairs and hallways they took just five hours ago, carrying what seemed only like his pillow up to the ground level of the manor. He reached the trap door and pushed it upwards, crept out of the dungeons and into the drawing room. When he walked outside of the doors of the drawing room, a house elf rushed to his side.

"Young Master, Lardy is going to help you--"

"No Lardy." He cut the house elf off. "Young Master can do this. Go back to your chores."

Lardy the House Elf looked pensive. "But Young Master, Harry Potter's friend..." He trailed off, calling Hermione the name that Dobby once told the Malfoy House Elves.

"I said go back to your chores, Lardy. When 'Harry Potter's friend,'" he spat out with utter distaste, "wakes up, 'Harry Potter's friend' will need to eat as many food as 'Harry Potter's friend' can. Now, Young Master says that he can do this, so Lardy must go back to his chores so Lardy can cook. Lardy enjoys cooking, right?"

Lardy smiled happily. "Lardy loves to cook, especially for Mistress and Young Master."

"Good. Now run along." He drawled out.

Lardy bowed low before him, and then ran down the hallway leading to the kitchen.

"Oh, and Lardy?"

"Yes, Young Master?" Lardy stopped and turned to look at him.

"Young Master says that Lardy must call 'Harry Potter's friend' by her name... The name of 'Harry Potter's friend' is Hermione Granger."

------------------------

"Miss Hermione!"

"Ungh..." Hermione mumbled sleepily as she turned in her bed, savoring the warmth it provided. "Ten minutes, mum..."

"Miss Hermione!"

She placed a pillow and covered her ears to block out the voice. She hadn't slept as soundly and as comfortably as this for months now, and it felt good. She inhaled deeply, savoring the musky scent of perfume on the sheets, and snuggled further...

Musky perfume... Silk sheets... Her bed always smelled of strawberries, not of perfume... And she had cotton sheets...

Hermione's eyes shot open and darted around violently. 'This isn't my room!'

"You can go now, Lardy. Get her something to eat."

"Certainly, Young Master."

She sat up, spun her head around and she almost screamed when she saw Draco Malfoy, garbed in an impeccable black robe, sitting on the wing chair at the other side of the room.

"M-Malfoy! W-What are you doing here?!"

"Why shouldn't I be here? This is, after all, my room." Draco smiled smugly.

"But..." Hermione began to protest, when she remembered it was Draco who helped her get past the barriers the Ministry set for muggle-borns courtesy of his Dark Arts knowledge.

Feeling shy all of a sudden, she clutched the thick sheets to her chest. "Malfoy, I uh..."

Lardy chose that moment to reappear with a whole cart of food. "Young Master, Harry Potter's friend..."

"Lardy! What did I tell you about--"

"Ah, Lardy is sorry, sir!" Lardy stooped low on the floor and began to bang his head against the foot of the bed. "Lardy is sorry, sir!"

Hermione watched as one of her inspirations for the S.P.E.W. abuse himself in front of her, and she couldn't help but feel angry.

Lardy stopped hurting himself and stood up to his full height, which wasn't very tall. "Lardy is most sorry, Miss Hermione."

"It's okay, Lardy. But you didn't have to hurt yourself." She retorted.

Lardy smiled at her before turning to Draco and bowing. "Lardy has brought Miss Hermione's dinner, Young Master."

"You may go."

With a snap, Lardy vanished into thin air.

With her and Draco left alone in the room, she didn't hesitate scolding him. "Why didn't you stop him from hurting himself? He's also living, he deserves the respect and rights that were also granted to us!"

Draco just walked towards the slightly elevated four-poster bed in the room. "Wish I could, Granger. But he doesn't want me to." He pushed the cart beside the bed and sat on the edge.

"And I just bet you would." She shot back sarcastically.

"You hold me in a much evil regard, Granger. Does your definition of pureblooded Slytherins revolve only around cruel and evil?" He grabbed a plate and picked up a croissant from the basket. "I'll have you know that the Slytherin house is the house of cunning and ambition. It's not synonymous to cruel and heartless. Now," Draco pushed the plate on her hands. "You're as light as a feather. Eat."

She stared at the food blankly, and then turned her gaze at him to eye him warily. "Why am I here?"

"Why are you here? You mean you forgot? Hmm... I didn't know that the spell would have that after effect... Maybe I should check on that again..."

"No, Malfoy. Why am I ::here::? I mean, here here!" Hermione gestured around the room.

Draco cast her an appraising look. "Have you forgotten? You... Me... Between the sheets... Bodies glistening in sweat, basking in the afterglow of making love... You couldn't keep your hands away from my glorious body. Then afterwards, you pulled me into the showers, then on the table in the hallway..."

Hermione gaped. "M-Malfoy!" She grew a lovely shade of red. "W-We didn't--"

Seeing her reaction, he sniggered inwardly, and continued his description. "I still remember your voice, panting... Shouting out my name. 'Ooooh, Draco! Oh! Don't stop...'" He made an impersonation of her voice. "... We made passionate love in almost all the parts of this house. Never knew that underneath that stupid Gryffindor robes and intelligent mind you were that sex vixen, Granger. You just grabbed my hands and made me skim your voluptuous body... You even suggested bondage and torture, don't you remember? Very kinky..." Draco smiled seductively, winking at her.

"Not funny." Hermione rolled her eyes, but the mental image projected by his words just wouldn't go away. She shut her eyes, bent her head, her curly locks falling around her, and forced the thoughts out and hid her blush. She could feel an intense wave of heat spread through her body with the mere words of Malfoy. Why the bloody hell did she just experience that?

Pushing her less-than decent thoughts of how a certain blond Slytherin's long digits left burning sensations on her skin at its wake, Hermione bit her lower lip. "You know that we didn't do that, git." She lifted her head up, still flustered, and glared at him. "Really... Why am I here?"

"Uhm... Because you fainted?" Draco answered.

"I knew that, you sodding prick! I'm asking of all places, why ::here::? Do I have to drill it on your puny brain?" Hermione retorted.

"Ah... That. I didn't think you'd overstay your invitation. Knowing you, you'd immediately bolt up and run through the gates and scream like a banshee." His nose crinkled in a smothered laugh. "But then again, you didn't, right? So would you rather have the house elves fix a guest room for you?" Draco picked up a strawberry from the bunch, and threw it in his mouth.

"No..." Hermione watched him as he chewed on the fruit agonizingly slow.

"Then eat. I don't want rumors to start that I'm not a hospitable host. Mother would kill me." Draco got another and plopped it in his mouth.

Hermione stared. How could a slimy, sleazy, bastard eat like a demigod? "I... I'm not hungry..." She managed to choke out after Draco's tongue darted out to lick the juices off his lips.

Draco, of course, noticed how the usually composed Gryffindor seemed to have run out of words at that moment. He wanted to ask her why, but when he saw where her eyes were currently fixed, he almost smirked in satisfaction.

So being the sodding git that he was, Draco picked up a third berry with excessive strength, his fingers bruising the skin of the fruit, and, as if he was an innocent child (which of course, would definitely be ::so:: not him), looked at the fruit curiously as red fluid crawled down the seedy skin. He sensed that Hermione was watching him with interest, and he felt much more confident about the bright and... Dirty... Trick that he devised spontaneously.

When Draco felt the sticky fluid crawling on his skin, he darted his tongue out and licked the glistening juices enthusiastically, starting from his wrist, going to the base of the fruit and up to the tip. He grazed his teeth on the tip of the fruit and bit on it, and without warning, his lips closed in on the fruit and began to suck its sweet essence.

Hermione's throat had suddenly gone dry, and her eyes seemed permanently glued to a pair of thin, reddening lips. She could just imagine what those lips could do to her...

Draco continued to rid the strawberry of its essence and felt behind him blindly for another strawberry. When his hands encountered a seedy fruit, he grabbed it violently and discreetly positioned the food near Hermione's cheek. He, much to Hermione's displeasure, removed his mouth from the fruit, making a sound that of a suction cup being removed, and stared directly at Hermione. "Now," He started, before rubbing the strawberry along Hermione's lips. "I told you to eat." He pushed the fruit into her mouth.

But Hermione just kept her mouth close. "I-I'm not--"

"Hungry?" Draco finished for her, before leaning over and licking the sticky juices off Hermione's lips.

Hermione gasped in surprise. Taking advantage, Draco threw the fruit in his mouth, chewed on it slightly and closed his mouth on Hermione's.

Hermione's quick-witted mind finally registered what was happening to her. Malfoy was actually and literally licking her! Now if only he'd do that on her...

She almost slapped herself. 'Bad, bad, bad Hermione!' Her rational part screamed. When did she start thinking of Malfoy as such?

She jumped slightly when she felt the probing tongue just outside of her lips gain access to her mouth. And being one who never backed down on a... Tough opponent, she moved her tongue against his.

And that was when she tasted the best strawberries in the world, because Draco Malfoy was feeding it to her using a very... Unique and sensual instrument. If for three months she had never eaten anything decent, this time, she felt like doing so... As long as it was Draco Malfoy feeding her.

Draco placed his tongue over hers, feeding her in the process. He felt her teeth scratch lightly on his tongue, pulling on the meshed fruit. He reached behind him again to get a strawberry while he kept his mouth busy, his other hand skimming her through her clothes while she arched her body against him.

When Draco pulled away, Hermione groaned in displeasure, already missing the contact. She leaned over, looking at Draco under her lashes, and pulled at the neckline of his robe.

"Wait," Draco stilled her fumbling hands. Seeing Hermione's confusion, he pushed the small bowl of whipped cream in her hand and placed the strawberry on the other. "Now, you feed me."

Hermione, more than anything else, was more than willing to comply. Shakily, she lifted her hand, dipped the fruit into the cream, and lifted it to Draco's mouth.

And being an insufferable prat, Draco closed his mouth before the fruit even entered it, causing the cream to smudge all over his lips. He grabbed her hands. "You dirtied me, Granger." He smirked. "Now you have to clean it." He said, still holding her hands in a vice grip, and he wasn't surprised when Hermione leaned over and licked the cream off his lips, and began to suckle the cream off his lower lip.

Draco responded eagerly, kissing her with the same amount of passion. He couldn't believe that little miss perfect would turn out to be this... Bold, and beautiful...

Hermione pulled away when she found no other traces of cream on his mouth, but he shook his head. "Not quite yet, Gryffindor." He grinned cockily, gesturing down to his torso. Some of the cream just dripped on his exposed chest.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That can be fixed, Malfoy." She reached out and used her middle finger to wipe the offending cream.

Draco felt a jolt of electricity shot up through his body at the mere contact, and felt all of his blood rush into his head as Hermione fluttered her eyes close and sucked the cream off her middle finger enthusiastically. His excitement grew stronger when she moved in front of him and used her tongue to lick off the remnants of the cream on his chest. She pulled away slightly after finishing, and looked up at Draco to see that he was looking down on her.

"Hermione..." He breathed, bringing his hands to rest on her shoulders and squeezing it lightly, before pushing her down on the sheets and breaking the restricting barriers between them.

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A/N: I'm sorry, I kinda suck in writing stories that rate more than a PG-13, as this is my first attempt, however I did try my best. And if it offends you (terribly), then I'm apologizing in advance.

Also, I wouldn't be able to post all of my fic within this year because our internet connection's screwed up… I'm just at an internet café as of press time. Sorry. Again.

Happy New Year to all!