This Is Me

Never before had they lain next to each other as they did now. After their first time, Hermione had simply dressed and left. The second time they stayed for a while—to fight over the fertility charm—but within minutes, Hermione was gone again. This time, the first time she participated, she had no intention of getting up. She had discovered that sex was a wonderful thing. It could even bring two enemies together for a short time—as they had just proved. She silently hoped that she wouldn't become pregnant so they could do it again.

Draco shifted under Hermione's arm which was draped over him. She lifted it off. "What's wrong?"

Draco turned and looked at her with guilt. "You're not getting pregnant this time." He stopped and waited for her reaction. She was looking past him in disbelief as he continued. "The contraception charm I used lasted a week. I cast it about three days ago—maybe four—so you're sterile for another three or four days."

"What?" Hermione asked sadly. She had quickly forgotten her wish to have to do it again. "How could you not tell me? And use me…again! I didn't know it was possible, Malfoy," she glared at him. "But I think I hate you more than ever."

Draco stammered an apology but was cut off by Hermione's bare back turning to him.

"Can I use my wand again, Malfoy?" she asked quietly.

"Sure," he sighed.

She turned back over him and grabbed it off the nightstand. "Accio clothes," she said and she caught her clothing. She quickly dressed under the covers. When she had finished she searched through her blankets for her wand.

"Looking for this?" Draco asked as he revealed her wand from behind his back.

"Give me that!" Hermione said as she reached across and grabbed it from him.

He gave it up passively but added as she grabbed it, "Go ahead. You can't use it anyway."

"Malfoy!" Hermione whined as she tossed her useless wand aside.

"We need to talk first."

"Change me back," she demanded.

"What?"

"Change me back to me. I hate looking like this."

Draco looked at Hermione's body before realizing what she meant. "How could anyone hate looking like that?" he asked as he turned her plain.

"Because it's not me." Hermione looked at her figure—or lack thereof—and smiled. "This is me." She looked back to Draco. "Can we get this talk over with?"

"Why are you so angry about this?" he asked seriously.

"Because you used me again, and now we have to do it again!"

"You didn't seem to mind when you were screaming my name out a moment ago," Draco smirked.

"You never told me that it wouldn't work, if you would have told me that then we could have waited until the week was over!"

"I didn't want to wait, I wanted you, and I still want you."

"Well I can tell you this, next time—the last time ever—I am not participating and I am not changing my appearance. I despise you; you are such an arrogant bastard!"

"You will participate and you will change the way you look, you will listen to me and do as I say! If you haven't forgotten Mrs. Malfoy, I OWN YOU!" Draco yelled, his temper snapping finally.

"You may be able to control how I look and act, but you can't control how I think!" Hermione retorted. She stood up to leave. Then she stopped and turned back to face Draco. "May I have your leave, milord?" she asked in a disgustingly fake voice.

Draco looked at her with something close to sadness. "Just go."

"Thank you, milord," she said and added a deep curtsy for effect.

Draco sat alone on the bed as Hermione slammed the door in his face. "Fuck!" Draco said angrily, burying his face in his pillow.

He shouldn't have told her.

He shouldn't have lost his temper.

He shouldn't have fallen in love with something that doesn't exist.


A/N: Amber again. Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter. I'm updating much more quickly now in hopes that the quicker I update the more reviews we'll get. We love the attention. blushes

Can't wait to hear your output on this chapter. The next one is the last, but the sequal is in the making. We like to have the stories finished before posting so that the wait doesn't become too great (like it is in the Pageant) and we also are not influenced by the readers. We love your opinion, don't get me wrong, but we like knowing that we came up with everything on our own. I hope you like the end.