For the next few days, Draco had willingly gone to Ville Fleur Etoille to spend time researching and reading with Hermione and he had to admit, the witch was utterly brilliant. He'd always known how intelligent she was, but he'd lamented that fact during school, asserting it was due to her swotty nature and not acknowledging how genuinely she loved to learn.

Her passion for learning was voracious and frankly...

Arousing.

She'd asked him questions, sought out his opinion and encouraged his ideas on different topics that they had read through. At one point, Pierre had entered the library, seen the amount of books, parchment and research paraphernalia scattered all over the tables—turned around and left with a pleased grin on his face.

The fourth day in succession that he had planned to visit, he'd been unpleasantly surprised when he'd arrived and Hermione wasn't in her normal place in the library.

Jean Paul had informed him that Hermione had left the evening prior after dinner, and had not returned home.

"Do you know where she is?"

"I believe she's in London, Sir. Visiting Mr. Potter."

He nodded stiltedly, and made his way back through the floo with a frown marring his face.

Hermione hadn't mentioned she was planning on visiting Potter, and it wasn't like they hadn't been spending the past few days in each other's company, but it made him wonder what was going on.

He went upstairs to his bedroom and grabbed a quill and some parchment, intending to write a letter to his soon to be wife, when he paused mid sentence. Setting his quill down, he concluded that Hermione wasn't the kind of witch who would take kindly to him demanding where she wasn't, and why she was with Potter.

Walking over to his bed, he plopped down on it unceremoniously and stared at his ceiling—trying to process just what he was feeling. It wasn't jealousy. Not really...

Was it possessiveness?

"No, that's not it." He mumbled to himself.

Several minutes passed as he desperately tried to put a name on the foreign feeling he was experiencing—when it suddenly came to him...

He felt disappointed.

Over the last few days, he'd come to actually enjoy spending time with Hermione, and he'd believed a bit arrogantly, that she'd felt the same.

Did they have definitive plans for today—no...but he'd assumed she'd be home and they could continue their research together.

But obviously, Potter was more important.

Rubbing his hands down his face, he couldn't help the sense of frustration he was feeling. He and Potter had always been rivals, but the truth was far more complex. All his life, he'd been raised to believe he was the best. That Malfoy's were the best: the smartest, most cunning, richest, best looking, most pure...

And then he'd gotten to Hogwarts and realized that no one outside of his own immediate circle of Slytherins, viewed him as the best of anything.

No...that title belonged to Saint Potter and Granger.

Hermione...

As a young boy of eleven, twelve and thirteen...it was easy to turn those feelings of jealousy and rage into hate, but as an adult?

He was having a harder time justifying that kind of vitriol—even as it left him feeling so bereft.

The fact that he hadn't once thought about Tori in the past several days didn't help his state of mind at all, and not for the first time he had to wonder if he was even capable of love...

Real love...

Sighing heavily, he sat up and decided that he wouldn't visit Hermione again until she requested it. He had no doubt that Jean Paul would let her know he'd stopped by today, so the next move was solely on her.

He wouldn't look like some poor sad sack desperate for her time nor attention.

As he changed out of his dress robes and into his flying gear, he figured an afternoon outdoors might serve to brighten his spirits.

Back at Ville Fleur Etiolle, Hermione and Harry were just leaving the floo room, when Jean Paul stopped her.

"Miss Hermione, you had a guest about an hour ago."

"Who? I don't think I was expecting anyone."

"Draco Malfoy."

"Oh! I see. Thank you, Jean Paul."

"Of course, Miss. Enjoy your day."

Hermione watched her Father's manservant leave with a weighted sense of dread. She hadn't known Malfoy was going to come over today. Yes, they'd been researching the last few days, but she was fairly certain she'd made overtures to invite for him for each subsequent day to work on her research.

Or had he just assumed?

"You okay?" Harry inquired gently.

"Uhm, yeah. I just wasn't aware that I had invited Malfoy over today."

"Maybe it was implied?"

"No, I'm fairly certain it wasn't." She sighed, as she took Harry's arm in hers. "I'll send him an owl later and see what happened."

"You did mention that the past few days you've been sort of getting along?"

"We have a common interest, so I'm trying to focus on that and not our contentious past. It's been a bit easier than I'd thought it'd be, but it's still hard for me to reconcile that my childhood tormentor is going to be my husband, in a little over a years time."

Harry nodded, but didn't immediately reply as he followed Hermione up to her bedroom. They'd spent the last day cleaning out Grimmauld Place, making it a bit more habitable. The elf heads had come down, as had Walburga's portrait...finally. What they couldn't do with magic, Hermione had suggested taking the wall down the Muggle way. After six hours of demolition, and a screaming portrait that he'd barricaded in the attic with a permanent silencing charm for good measure...his current home was now Walburga Black free.

Kreacher hadn't been upset, which was a surprise, under the circumstances. But perhaps that had something to do with him outing Hermione's heritage. The elf had been fawning over her all night long, and well into the morning.

"I can't believe we spent all night destroying that wall!" Hermione giggled. "I never thought she'd stop screeching!"

He chuckled and said, "Her face was rather funny when she discovered just whom you were. I don't think I've ever seen the old bat at a loss for words."

They both bent over in loud guffaws as they made their way into her bedroom. Closing her door, she went to her closet to grab some clean clothes and was about to head to her en suite when she felt Harry slide up behind her, his arms caged around her waist.

"So? I've been thinking?"

"Oh?" Her grin was playful as she gazed over her shoulder at her best friend, his green eyes alight with mischief.

"Yeah. I'd like to try something, if you're feeling up to it?"

"I'm sure I would be open to most anything, Mr. Potter."

"Good." He smiled into her neck, before biting it softly and relishing in her breathy moans.

"Let's go get cleaned up."

"You already took a shower before we got here, Harry."

"So I did, but that doesn't mean I can't help you. After all, I got you all dirty."

She stifled her giggles by biting her lip, but she nodded and allowed him to usher her into her ensuite, all the while discarding their clothes, until they were standing together in her shower, under the warm water.

She watched in bemusement, as Harry lathered up a flannel and took his time washing her carefully from head to toe. It was both sweet and erotic—especially when he washed her hair and then spent his time conditioning it too. Her gentle sighs of pleasure were clearly affecting Harry, because he was already rock hard.

Once he was done, he gently turned her towards the shower wall, that had several water jets on the side wall and then she felt him move himself against her backside, his erection nestled between her arse cheeks. He carefully reached around her body and cupped her breasts, all the while kissing her neck and nibbling on her earlobe. She couldn't help but squirm and pant at how good Harry felt against her like this. When he pinched her left nipple hard, she threw her head back and moaned out his name wantonly. He then turned her around and replaced his fingers with his mouth, sucking and biting on her breasts, before he slowly kneeled in front of her.

Looking down into blistering emerald green eyes, he smirked up at her wickedly before taking her left leg and placing it over his right shoulder, opening her up to his hungry gaze.

"So, no penetration, right?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm," his chest rumbled as he took his thumbs and gently spread her lower lips that were shaved with a dilapidation spell—getting a good look at his prize. "I think, that I can make that work."

"Harry..."

"Shhh...this is something I've been thinking about Hermione—more than you will ever know."

"Really?!" Her voice came out huskier than she'd ever heard it, while he just hummed in the affirmative.

She watched in slow motion, as Harry moved forward towards her core, which she knew was probably obscenely wet by now...but what he did next nearly had her legs buckling in shock because he pushed his nose into her quim and inhaled deeply...his chest rumbling with pleasure as he groaned in satisfaction.

"I fucking knew you'd smell like heaven." He growled out deeply, causing her to whimper and then the tip of his tongue reached out tentatively flicking her clit. She gripped onto the back of Harry's head, gasping out as her stomach coiled inwards in anticipation. His green eyes then lifted and locked with hers, and then there was nothing but pleasure as Harry used his talented tongue and lips and plied her clit with licks, kisses and sucking...her needy moans filling the shower...her body bowed over him...their gazes never breaking once.

That damnable coil in her tummy, that had been edging the fire in her nether regions, all snapped simultaneously as her back arched, her orgasm washing over her—moaning out Harry's name in ecstasy. When she finally looked back down after a few moments of desperately trying to catch her breath, Harry was sitting back on his haunches, grinning up at her like a fool, his face covered in her essence.

"Wow!" She whispered, and then she knelt down and kissed him senseless, licking and sucking herself off his chin, lips and tongue and loving his answering deep groans. He pulled her down to the shower floor and they lost themselves for a bit, as they snogged each other silly.

After a few moments, she allowed her hand to wander down Harry's chest and reached for his erection, which wasn't quite as hard as she half expected it to be and he pulled back, grinning down at her sheepishly.

"Sorry, love, but watching you come undone...well..."

"Really?" She looked again and noticed Harry's cock twitching, and she hummed. "Looks like he's ready to go again."

Harry threw back his head and laughed, but all he said afterwards was—"How about we save that for another time?"

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. It'll give me something to look forward to."

She smacked his chest, but they were both snickering before she sputtered out, "Simply incorrigible."

"Sure, love." He sighed, then helped her up, and together they dried off and got dressed before walking outside onto Hermione's balcony...laying down on the large chaise lounge and snuggling together.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

She rolled into his body and lifted her head to she could see his expression. "Can I ask a question?"

"Anything, Hermione—you know that."

"What happened with you and Ginny?"

He didn't answer right away but when he did, she could hear the clear resignation in his voice.

"After the battle, when I'd realized you'd disappeared? I went a little mad."

"What?" She whispered, while Harry just nodded, placing a finger against her lips to silence her so he could finish his story.

"Yeah. I was the one to notice you weren't in the Great Hall, and I literally tore out of the castle screaming your name. I thought something had happened to you. That's when I saw Malfoy outside, and I might've lost it for a moment. Grabbed him by the throat with my wand in his face, demanding to know what he'd done with you."

"Oh, Harry!"

"I know, it wasn't well done of me but after what happened to you at Malfoy Manor...well...it made me face a few things I'd been unwilling to admit to."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." He murmured again. "When you offered to go with me out to the Forbidden Forest, I realized in that moment what a fool I'd been. But there was still Ron, and I figured it didn't matter at that point. I'd be dead and he'd take care of you. Later, after leaving Hogwarts and heading back to the Burrow, Ginny confronted me. She'd seen my altercation with Malfoy and called me out on it. Straight up asked me if we had...well, you know, during our time in the run. I told her no, and surprisingly—she believed me. She then asked if I had feelings for you, and I couldn't deny it. I wasn't going to lie to her, not about that. She told me I was an idiot, and I agreed. Told her I cared for her, but marriage and family weren't in the cards for me—ever."

"I don't imagine she took that well."

"Not exactly. She'd said I was suffering from trauma and that I'd change my mind someday, and then mentioned that it wasn't fair of me to expect anyone to go into a relationship not wanting those things...including you."

"She didn't?!"

"Yes, she did. She left, and the next day your heritage came to light in the Prophet. Ron was livid—spewing out his frustration on anyone who'd listen. When he wrote that Howler, Molly smacked him for his stupidity..."

She giggled softly and admitted, "I'd wondered who that was."

"Molly warned him he'd regret sending the blasted thing...but Ron is stubborn and didn't listen."

"I never did ask you directly how you'd felt about it all."

"At first I was hurt, but then the more I thought about it, the more things started to make sense? I think the biggest one was how you could've left, whom I thought were your parents, and obliviated them without being more devastated than you were. When I added up everything—and it took me a couple days to process it all—I concluded that the Hermione I knew, must've had a good reason for not telling me. So I figured to wait until I'd heard from you directly, to give you a chance to explain. I never imagined the situation with Malfoy occurring, but if it hadn't..."

"Would you really not have told me how you felt?"

He rolled her underneath him and cupped her cheek in his hand. "Yes, I wouldn't have told you. I know it's selfish of me, but, love...I'm damaged. I think I have been for far longer than even I care to admit to. There was a time, I'd wished for a family to call my own, but as the war got really bad and I saw first hand, what being with me would mean for someone..." he glanced down at her arm, and she tried to shake her head in reprimand, but he just held her still.

"Listen, love...you know me better than anyone and you've seen my life up close. So many people have died because of me, and I know you'll say that they were just fighting for their right to live...but it's not that simple. My parents, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Fred, Dumbledore, Quirrell...Snape..." the last one was said with an uncomfortable swallow.."and so many more besides. I meant what I said to your dad, that I will always be a target. At least if I'm an Auror? I can stop anymore of those like Voldemort from rising again. If that means I get these stolen moments with you, I'm okay with that too."

"Harry, you do know if I have to choose between you and Malfoy, I'm going to choose you."

"I know that, love. And Godric help me, but I'm almost selfish enough to let you do it. However, I want to you to promise me something?"

"Which is?"

"When you finally decide to give Malfoy a real chance to try and prove his worth to you? You'll let me know, and I'll step back willingly. If you, for a single, solitary, moment—think you can have something real with the ferret, I'll step aside."

"Harry...don't say that!"

"Hermione, I'll always be your best friend. I meant it when I told your Dad that. No matter what choice you make. But until that day comes, if it does...I'm going to enjoy the time we have and if by some stretch of fate you realize that you don't want, or can't have the kind of marriage with Malfoy that you desire—I'll be here to fill that place."

She gazed up into loving emerald green eyes and wondered not for the first time, how in Godric's name she hadn't seen how much pain her best friend had been in.

Still was in.

But she knew Harry well enough to know, he'd never talk to anyone other than her about his pain.

It just wasn't who he was.

"I do love you, Harry."

"I know it, Hermione. I feel it too."

She smiled and pulled his head down so their lips could meet, and talking ceased for the immediate future as they just spent the next bit of time, snogging each other.

Later, after Harry had left—she sat down at her desk with a heavy heart staring at the parchment and trying to figure out just what she hoped to gain with this thing with Malfoy.

Was Harry right?

Would she want a real marriage at some point, and if so?

Would Malfoy ever be capable of giving that to her?

Once her missive was finally written, she tied it to her owl, Sheba, and watched as she flew off into the night towards Malfoy Manor.