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Chapter 6:

After Malfoy left, Harry asked what was that all about. Ron and Hermione both shrugged their shoulder's. They went inside to have supper. When they got there this one owl came down and landed in front of Hermione. She recognize her bird, Silver, right away. She untied the letter from Silver gave him a treat and Silver flew off with the treat in his mouth. Hermione opened the letter and the letter read:

Dear My sweet Hermione,

How are you doing in school? I just wanted to let you know that you have to come home for the holidays, and if you don't there will be consequences. Hope you have fun at that ridiculous school of yours. See you soon, my love.

Love your Stepdad Mark

Hermione put her letter in her bag and left the Great Hall. She ran all the way up to the common room. When she got there Hermione went to the bathroom to have a shower. She couldn't take it no more. Her father wrote her a letter and sended it with Silver. She just gotten her letter today at supper. Hermione turned the shower on and stepped in. She thought the shower would be soothing, but it wasn't. It was as if all the tears inside her were raining down on her skin, and slowly she slid down the tiled wall to sit crouched, face in her hands moaning in anguish, the water pounding on her back. A knock on the bathroom door barely roused her. She heard Malfoy calling her name, asking if she was all right, but it didn't seem to matter, she couldn't stop crying. The door opened, and he came in. She was aware of it, but it had no reality, only her pain was real.

"Granger?" She couldn't move. The water was hot, but she was shivering, that didn't matter, either. Then the glass door slid back, and Malfoy reached in and turned the water off.

"Come on, Granger" he said softly. But she couldn't respond; it was too much effort. A towel was thrown around her, and she was pulled upright. His strong arm supported her, and she surrendered to her need and clung to him, not caring that she was wet and naked and water was streaming into her face from her hair.

"Malfoy," she sobbed "Why are you being so nice to me and all of the sudden you care?"

He held her and stroked her hair. He didn't really know why he was being nice and caring about her all of a sudden.

"Shh," he said. "I'll be all right. He won't take you back and do those things." She trembled convulsively form cold and fear, and she shook her head, droplets of water flinging off her hair.

"No, no, it won't be all right. He'll take me back"

"No he won't. I promise"

"Oh, Malfoy," she cried, tilting her face up to his, "If only I'd known you'd changed. This is all my fault."

"Don't be silly, mud-Granger. It's not your fault. It's that fuckin' basterd's fault."

She buried her face in his chest, wetting his shirt, but he only pushed her back and tried to dry it with a corner of the towel. Gradually she stopped shaking, and as she felt his heart beating against her cheek, she calmed down, her tears stopped. She took a deep, quavering breath.

"Better?" he asked.

She nodded wordlessly. He held her still, and his arms, his chest felt, so good she never wanted to leave their shelter.

"When you hold me," she whispered, "I can almost believe everything will be all right"

"It will"

She knew she had to let go of him-- this had only been an interlude--but she couldn't bear the disolation it would bring.

"Granger," he began.

"I'll go to bed now," she said, but she didn't move. She felt him shift his position; he was going to disengage himself form her, he was… But his head bent and his cheek brushed hers and somehow, miraculously, his lips were on hers. A voice in her head cried danger, but she didn't care. His smell, his warmth, the strength of his hand on her back, the wetness of his shirt from her tears and her hair-- they were too important, too vital to her existence. He murmured something, and she felt his hardness against her nudity, and he pulled her closer. She opened her mouth to receive him. Time ran together in jerky moments, endless and fleeting. Hermione opened her eyes to find Malfoy looking at her, everything he was in his eyes, in the gaze he fastened hungrily on her.

"Granger" he said again, and his fingers tightened on her back. "Granger."

Something inside her burst free, and she knew suddenly and irrevocably that she liked Malfoy, a little. Nothing mattered, not his history with the lady's, nothing. He swept her up effortlessly and carried her into her bedroom. His strength held her in thrall--she was not a small woman. The towel fell away, and she was on the bed, naked, reaching up for him, and he leaned over her, his weight on both arms, his clear blue gaze on her face.

"Are you sure of this?" he asked. Her answer was to unbutton the first button on his shirt, then the next. Her fingers shook, and impatiently he sat on the bed and pulled his shirt off. He lay next to her, on one elbow.

"I never thought I'd do this with you," he said.

"Neither did I."

His arm moved in a swift arc, pulling her close, and now she could feel his bare skin. They lay together on their sides, mouths and fingers halted wherever they wanted, in a sanctuary of their own making, touching, stroking, murmuring sounds that were not words. He undressed, dropping his pants on the floor, and returned to her. His mouth was on her skin, trailing exquisite sensations, on her nipple. His hand brushed her wetness, and she gasped, her hips rising, her body twisting. Time was suspended, reality was suspended, and Hermione lost herself in a maelstrom of pure sensation. There was an absence of everything that had marked her life for so long--no haste, no fear, no worry, no ambition, a banishment of all that she'd thought important for so long. Of all that mattered in the daylight. When he entered her, she stopped breathing for a second, then two. It felt so different, so perfect, and she wanted to hold him there, to keep him, to stop time. But he moved over her, and she felt his hardness growing inside her, and her body wouldn't stop, it was on it's own relentless search for fulfillment. She rose, pressing against him, trying to touch as much of his skin with hers as she could, desperate to pull him into her, more of him. They moved together easily, without hesitation, as if their bodies remembered, despite their stubborn minds. No words were needed, the changes in rhythm understood between them. She felt her body on the brink of explosion, moving faster, her breath quick, almost desperate, and he thrust into her hard--once, twice--and their mouths found each other, hot and searching, and she shuddered, a cry rising from her to meet his.

"Malfoy" she moaned in pleasure.

They lay silent afterward. Hermione was stunned, her mind unable to comprehend what she done, but her body seemed to have learned something her brain didn't know. She was afraid to speak, for there was nothing either of them could say, and she didn't want to spoil what had happened between them. She felt herself drifting into sleep, roused briefly when Draco pulled the covers up over them. Then she drifted again, and she wasn't sure whether she dreamed it or imagined it, but she thought that Draco leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, and said, "I've think I've fallen head over heels for you, Gra-Hermione."

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