A/N:

It's been a while! Life gets in the way, but here we go again I should be able to upload a few weeks in a row, maybe even two a week because when work starts up again it'll be less frequent.

Let me know if you're still reading this! Interest seemed to wane the last couple of chapters, but I have had a few people reach out and ask when the next chapter is out so here we go and thanks for the motivation!

TW: PURE smut ahead haha

Chapter 8

Hermione imagined this must be what it felt like to be addicted to drugs. Once you got that hit after being denied for so long there was an immediate rush of relief quickly chased by pure elation. The tension she had carried in her shoulders and neck for Merlin knows how long left like the snip of a taut thread.

She moaned into Malfoy's mouth. She was high. Neurotransmitters were firing a mile a minute, releasing chemicals that were telling her this was exactly what she needed to be doing. She was completely powerless to resist it. Not even a fleeting thought entered her mind about the inevitable come down that would follow once the rush left them stripped bare.

Their outer robes were pushed off hastily and discarded in a black, obscure pile behind them. Draco had one hand splayed, pressing hard on the small of her back, and the other had already snuck underneath her skirt to grasp a handful of her cotton clad behind. He pushed her hips forward to thrust against his front and he lifted a knee to part her legs so she could connect her tingling core with his thigh.

"Ah...Ah...D-Draco..." Hermione ground herself against his thigh, feeling the warmth of her arousal seep through the flimsy cotton onto his trousers.

"If you want this to stop," he breathed into her ear, his voice ragged, "we probably have about two seconds before I won't be able to."

Hermione had already decided from the moment his mouth was on hers that she was doing this. Instead of answering him she reached her hand into his trousers and firmly gripped his smooth, hard cock. A guttural sound erupted from his chest and his breath blew hotly into her ear.

Malfoy tore her shirt down the middle and buttons rained down around them. He pulled a breast free of its confines and dipped his head to suck hard on her nipple, moaning in satisfaction. He was driving her mad with every pull of his mouth, her nipple puckered and jolted under him. Hermione pushed him off roughly, his brow furrowed into an expression of adorable confusion until she grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. She pulled him forward by the waist band of his trousers and undid the button and zipper with nimble fingers. She sprung him free and promptly swirled her thumb over his sticky tip and started pumping her hand up and down.

They stumbled their way across the room until her back hit a desk and Draco's hands found purchase on either side of her. He gulped deep, ragged breaths as she experimented with different pressures and movements with her wrist. He reached up a hand to wrap around hers, stilling her movements.

"Your turn," he said in between laboured breaths.

Draco grabbed her gently by the hips and she felt her feet dangle freely as he lifted her onto the edge of the bench. He took a moment to take in the sight of her, his eyes raking up and down her body. She looked down to see what he was fixating on - her shirt torn and hanging open with one pert breast swelling out of her bra. He stepped between her legs and hooked his fingers into her underwear, dragging it down her legs until they swayed in a bunch on her ankle. He laved soft, wet kisses on her collarbone as his fingers teased gentle swipes at her slit.

Hermione keened and jutted her hips forward to invite his fingers in deeper. He obliged her and plunged into her at a tortuously slow pace. Her warmth enveloped his cool fingers.

"I need you inside me," she whispered to the ceiling.

Malfoy's breathing stopped for two agonising seconds and she heard him swallow hard. Once he had processed her quiet entreat, he dropped his hand from between her legs and positioned his throbbing member at her entrance. Hermione steadied herself on his shoulders and nodded at him emphatically to dissipate any lingering hesitation on his part.

With one quick push, he was cushioned inside her. They both gasped in unison, a diminutive squeak of pleasure pushed its way out of her as well. They paused that way, for what felt like a lifetime, suspended and joined together in a moment of complete bliss. Draco was the first to move, rolling his hips backward and then thrusting forward swiftly. Hermione let loose a sudden cry, muffled into the crook of his neck.

"You feel... amazing," he muttered into her shoulder.

"Faster... harder... please," she whimpered almost incoherently, lost in the throes of her pleasure.

He reached in between them to gain access to her sensitive nub. He was flicking his fingers up and down like a light switch, each brush sent a shock to the pit of Hermione's stomach, lighting the fuse to her building climax. He drove in and out of her and she met his thrusts with equal ferocity.

"Fuck!" She cried, unable to hold back her hedonistic expression.

He thrust and thrust getting her closer and closer to the pinnacle of her orgasm.

"Come with me." His voice drew her gaze to his pleasure-stricken face.

His words pushed her over the precipice, and she felt herself come undone with undulating shocks and waves of gratification. Hermione felt her core shudder around him, and the sound of a strangled moan filled her ears as he quivered with his own release.

They held each other for a minute, coming down from their respective highs and gulping deep breaths of much needed oxygen. Then he pulled himself out of her, she held back the whimper threatening to rise out of her.

He bent down to the ground to pick something up from the floor. The cool air hit Hermione's exposed chest and stomach, she looked down at herself and was suddenly aware of the state she was in. She closed her legs and pulled her shirt closed. She glanced down at her muggle watch and sucked in an anxious breath as she realised Snape would be checking on them any minute.

"We have to clean this place up," she said, urgency tinging her words.

Hermione pushed herself off the table, feeling the wetness of their mingled juices sliding down her thigh. She dipped her hand into the warm soapy water in the sink and wiped the mess off hastily. Spying her outer robe strewn across the room, she practically ran over to it so she could cover herself up.

"Don't go to sleep hating yourself, Granger," Malfoy said, his voice interrupting her desperate attempts to cover up her modesty. He was buttoning up his trousers and doing up his shirt buttons. Somehow, he made it look like they hadn't just had a ferocious shag two minutes earlier.

I wish I still had buttons to do up.

"We had a rollicking good time," he said, chuckling and dipping his hands in the soapy water to restyle his mussed hair.

Is that what I am? A good time?

Hermione pulled her robes around her tightly to cover her chest, wishing she could use magic to mend her shirt. With her free hand she attempted to neaten the bushy mane curing itself in all directions. Her slippery inner thighs reminded her that she still needed to find her underwear, but she couldn't see them as she tried to discreetly scan the classroom floor. Hermione couldn't stand asking him for help to find her underwear, so she decided to stay silent and walk over the farthest dirty cauldron. She picked up a wire brush and started scrubbing with her back to him.

Hermione didn't know if he was going to try and speak to her again because the sound of Snape's voice made her jump and fling soapy suds into the air.

"Not finished I see. How disappointing."

Hermione turned her head around to see Malfoy had paused mid-ineffective scrub and Snape stood in the middle of the room casting his eyes over every surface. Hermione followed the path his gaze was taking, still trying to ascertain the whereabouts of her knickers.

Can he tell what we just finished doing minutes ago?

She hoped to Merlin that he couldn't smell what had gone on. Hermione thought she might actually die from embarrassment if he made any comments about the distinct odour floating around the classroom.

Her underwear wasn't anywhere. It didn't make any sense.

Then it hit her that Malfoy reached down to pick something up off the ground.

That bastard pocketed my dirty underwear.

Snape took a step, and something pinged at the bottom of his shoe.

Oh, Merlin. The buttons.

He reached down to pick up the button and arched a single brow in question, staring at it intently. Hermione made sure her body was still facing away, covered by her robe. After a few seconds of inspection Snape proceeded to drop the button back to the ground and he spun to exit in a flourish of billowing black.

"Same time, same place next week," he called over his shoulder.

Fuck. We need help.

Hermione stared into the fire crackling in the common room, wringing her hands together and replaying the events of the previous evening in her head again and again and again.

"Oi, 'Mione! Could I borrow your essay for Transfiguration? I can't stomach reading another book on how to turn a tortoise into a bloody trumpet," Ron complained, popping Bertie Botts Beans into his mouth.

"Huh? Oh, sure Ron," she replied, her tone was flat and lacking her usual enthusiasm for academics or annoyance at Ron's lack of perseverance.

"You alright Hermione? You seem distracted," Harry said.

Hermione bit her lip, unsure how much she should tell them. They explicitly indicated they did not want to know if she and Malfoy succumbed to the magic again. But she needed their help.

I don't have to tell them everything.

With a furtive glance around the common room she said, "Actually, I need you to sneak into my next detention with the cloak…" she trailed off, not knowing how much they would assume from her request.

The question of "Why?" was poised on Harry's lips until realisation exploded over his features.

"Oh Merlin," Ron's voice cracked, "It happened again?" His mouth was agape with mushed candy.

"I didn't say that..."

Hermione didn't feel like she was doing a particularly good job at hiding what had happened, but the time for embarrassment had long since passed.

"I think you did just say that." Harry was flushed and looking everywhere except her face.

Ginny had been watching and listening silently, but her interest was finally piqued. "Okay you two, off to bed you pop. Hermione and I need to have a girl talk." She stood up and used both hands to pull the boys from the floor and she gave them a shove in the direction of the boy's dormitory. They looked all too happy to leave, casting her sheepish glances and a mumbled "Goodnight."

Ginny settled herself cross legged in front of Hermione, casting a quick muffliato.

"Tell me everything."

Hermione huffed a dramatic sigh, mentally preparing for Ginny's thorough inquisition.

"Snape left," she revealed, in much the same manner she spoke to her about Luna leaving her and Malfoy unattended.

"And?" Ginny implored, impatient for the specifics.

"And... we... we — "

Ginny charged in, "Christened the classroom?"

Hermione pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before confirming, "Yes."

Ginny's hand flew up to cover her mouth as she let out a little squeak of shock which sounded suspiciously like delight.

"How did you guys do it?"

"I am not answering that question," she primly responded.

Ginny grunted in displeasure at Hermione's refusal to divulge the blow-by-blow recount.

"You have to at least tell me if it was as good as the first time."

Hermione was ready to shoot Ginny down again, but she knew that if she didn't give her something she was in for an even longer night of prodding and prying.

"It was…better... I think," she hedged, looking down at her twisting fingers. Then she decided to just be honest. "It was really good. Different from the first time, more... I don't know… urgent?"

She had barely evaluated her own interpretation of the event in question, let alone shared it with someone else.

"How much do you hate yourself right now?" Ginny queried, her gaze narrowing in analysis of Hermione's fidgeting hands.

She released her hands and shrugged noncommittally.

"The normal amount I suppose. Maybe a bit less. It's quite exhausting to be at the appropriate level of self-loathing at all times," she admitted, knowing that Ginny wouldn't judge her for letting herself off the hook a bit.

Ginny nodded. "I think that it's good that you're easing up on the self-hate. I mean, look at this way," Ginny held her palms out face up in front of her. "You've got Dolohov over here," she gestured to one hand, "Murderer, probably rapist, and overall slimy piece of shit. Then you've got Malfoy," she gestured to her other hand, "Who's basically a baby Death Eater."

Hermione giggled at Ginny's assessment of Draco as the infant equivalent of evil.

Ginny continued, "He's never killed anyone. Even Dumbledore said that when he tried, his heart wasn't in it. Do you really think Dumbledore would have him back here if he was irredeemable?" Her open expression challenged Hermione to argue with her astute, if not a little oversimplified, notion of Malfoy as the lesser evil when compared to others of his ilk.

"I guess you're right," Hermione conceded somewhat reluctantly. Then she added, "It's not just the Death Eater issue that I am conflicted about though. It's all the other parts of him."

Ginny remained mute, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I remember looking at him before all this and thinking he was so haughty and snivelling and weak. I couldn't have been less attracted to him."

Hermione took a breath, steeling herself before confessing the next part. "But now… he exudes a kind of strength, poise and self-assuredness I've never seen in him before. There's also this broken, tortured part of him that I can see glinting in his eyes sometimes. The war has done something to him. I don't know if it's for the better, but he's different."

Ginny's expression hadn't wavered. She placed a comforting hand on Hermione's arm.

"Hermione, the war changed you as well. It changed all of us. You can't go through something like we did and come out unscathed. Some of us barely survived and fell to pieces, and some of us used it as an opportunity to rebuild and come out stronger. I guess only time will tell which one Malfoy is."

A part of her, bigger than Hermione was ready to admit to herself, hoped that he was the second kind.

It was more than a week after Hermione and Draco's secret had gotten out and things were still as uncomfortable as ever for her whenever she deigned to leave her dormitory. Actually, if she was being honest it wasn't much better in the dormitory either with Lavender and Pavarti whispering and casting her varying degrees of curious and critical looks.

Meals in the Great Hall, walks down the corridors, and sitting in her classes usually consisted of pretty equal receptions of visible disgust, derogatory remarks, or direct assaults of unabashed curiosity. Some individuals from the male half of the student population had taken to openly heckling her when she passed them.

She often wondered what kind of treatment Malfoy was being subjected to and she couldn't help but think he didn't have it quite as bad. However, she couldn't imagine that the Slytherins would be too impressed about him sullying himself with someone like her.

"Cheer up, poppet," came the jovial voice of Theo Nott, pulling her from her reverie. He plonked himself down on the seat next to her while she propped her head up with one hand and pushed her food around her plate with the other, not looking up to greet him.

Hermione had decided to face the hoards on her own today. Ron, Harry and Ginny had made a habit of making a scene at mealtimes when the inevitable spotlight landed on her.

"Just because you're not getting any!" Ginny would yell, unhelpfully.

"Push off, nosy gits," Ron would add.

Harry was usually the calmer of the three and he would just try and distract her with inane chatter. She knew they were only trying to protect her, but she would rather pretend it wasn't happening at all.

"Theo, you might not want to be seen sitting here with me. Think of the gossip." She tried to brush him off, but Hermione was so emotionally drained that she honestly couldn't care less if Theo's name was added to the mix of rumours about Slytherin's she had bedded.

He waved his hand dismissively. "Pish posh. I feel rather honoured to be sitting with the girl who tamed the bigoted dragon."

She laughed weakly at his joke. "I don't think those are quite the words people are using." Hermione sighed. "If you aren't here to join in on the fun, what can I do for you?"

He shrugged. "Just wanted to check in on how things were going on your end. Malfoy practically growls and foams at the mouth any time the boys try to give it to him about you. Now they're all scared to bring it up."

He laughed, clearly amused by his friend's antics.

Oh, is that all she needed to do? Behave like a rabid beast and all will be forgotten. She didn't think that strategy would work so well for her.

"I am slightly less successful as you can see," she gestured generally to the hushed conversations and fleeting gazes falling on them. "But I'll get through it."

Hermione's attention was drawn to a louder, heated conversation travelling down the table between Katie and Kellah.

Hermione barely had a second to process what was about to happen before Katie stood over her.

"How could you, Hermione?" she screamed.

Kellah was trying to pull her away, but Katie wrenched her arm free and spun back to Hermione, unreserved fury clouded her usually peaceful features. Her eyes were rimmed red and marred by sleep deprived shadows.

Oh, fuck. I slept with the boy who nearly killed her.

Her conscience nagged at her with this blatant reminder of Malfoy's dark past unravelling in front of her. Hermione took in Katie's pained, betrayed expression and couldn't form the words that would excuse what she did. She realised nothing excused her. Not even powerful magic. She burned in shame at the harsh truth she hadn't let herself fully accept until now. Magic might have started it, but she finished it. She gave in, actively choosing to temporarily push aside all the terrible things he had done.

Ginny's words about Draco being the lesser of two evils rung hollow.

She wasn't sure what possessed her to, but she reached out a shaky hand towards Katie, perhaps begging for forgiveness. "Katie I..I.." her voice shook with the full weight of what the girl in front of her must think of her at this moment.

Katie saw Hermione's hand seeking her own and pulled back, disgust settling on her features.

"How could you sleep with him," she cried, pointing an accusing finger at Malfoy's prone form across the room. He was silent and still as Katie's voice carried across the hall and halted all other conversations. Malfoy's façade didn't betray a single feeling as all eyes turned to bore into him.

"Hey, now —" Theo jumped in, standing up in an effort to stop Katie's verbal assault on Hermione, or perhaps he was defending Draco's honour.

Katie didn't let him finish. "What's this?" She gestured to Theo, her eyes now glistening with unshed tears, "Has Malfoy got his slimy snakes protecting his whore now?" Hermione physically recoiled at the disdain in her words.

"Katie, we should go, this is only making you more upset —" Kellah had renewed her efforts to lead Katie away, holding her by the elbow, trying to guide her.

"It's bad enough I have to be at the same school as him, but to have you, you of all people, allow yourself to be fucked by that disgusting excuse of a man!" She was openly crying now, not fighting Kellah so much as she became overcome with grief.

"How could you do this to us?"

Us. I've betrayed them all.

Hermione didn't dare move or say another word. Kellah wrapped an arm around her distraught friend and led her out of the hall. The ever present, incomprehensible hum of gossip was energised by the display. Hermione flinched when a hand landed softly on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

The last thing she wanted was to be pitied. Hermione brushed Nott's hand off her and stood up.

"I'm fine. She isn't wrong."

She collected her things to take her leave of the deafening buzz in the hall.

Ginny found her curled up in an armchair in the furthest corner of the library. She rushed over and knelt in front of her, placing her hands on her knees. She reached up a hand to lift Hermione's chin to look into her eyes.

"Oh Merlin, Hermione. I heard what happened. Are you okay?"

She released a shaky breath. "Not really. But I suppose I'm lucky it didn't happen sooner. Malfoy hurt a lot of people; it was only a matter of time."

"You didn't deserve that Hermione," her friend assured her sternly. "Even if there wasn't magic involved, you didn't deserve to be treated like that publicly. Maybe we need to reconsider telling people about what's really going on —"

She shook her head vigorously, prompting Ginny to refrain from suggesting what she had already made her decision clear on.

Hermione had asked for everyone who knew the truth, Malfoy and Nott included, to keep the details of the full extent of the situation to themselves. Everyone knowing she was sleeping with him against her will somehow made it worse in her head. In this moment — after her encounter with Katie — she was second guessing that decision a bit, but she ultimately still felt like it wasn't everyone's right to know all the details of her personal issues. There was bound to be a student who would tattle to Dumbledore or a professor out of some misguided urge to help them.

At least at this point if staff were aware at all, which she reverently prayed they weren't, at the very most they would be disappointed or perhaps decidedly disinterested in who she was having sex with.

Hermione loathed to admit that she wasn't sure what the school policy was around students developing sexual relationships with one another, but they were both of age so there was probably not a whole lot they could do about it unless they were caught in a compromising position on school property.

However, if it was found out that magic entered into the equation, that would change their involvement entirely and neither she nor Malfoy were ready for that to happen.

This was what she explained to Malfoy when he tried to argue that he would have to explain some plausible reason as to, "Why I've taken up shagging the muggle-born third of the Golden Trio as a post-war hobby." In the end, he reluctantly agreed that her reasoning was sound.

"It's not any of their business, frankly," Hermione said to Ginny.

"You're right, we will support whatever you want to do."

Hermione squeezed the hand that was still resting comfortingly on her knee.

"I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you guys."

Ginny stood up to envelope her in a tight hug.

"Luckily, you'll never have to find out."

She hadn't so much as spoken to Malfoy in the two days that followed her public dressing down by Katie Bell. They sat a safe distance apart in Potions, no longer needing to sit together after their assignment had concluded. She would sometimes spot a blond head shimmering in the sun of the courtyard or bobbing in a seat at the Great Hall. She would instinctively seek out the source of the raucous laughter she knew to be his if she heard it.

Her brain mentally counted off each day that passed, bringing her closer to her second detention with him and Snape. A knot had twisted in her belly the closer the day came, and it would tighten, pulling dread and… something else into her consciousness if she found herself without a task for distraction.

Hermione tried her best to channel all her focus into her schoolwork and she tried to dispel the cloud that had settled over her relationship with Harry and Ron. They weren't angry or upset with her, but she could tell they couldn't help but view her differently now.

Especially Ron, who she knew was waiting in the wings for her not all that long ago. They had shared a few frenzied, desperate kisses in the middle of the war — both scared out of their minds that they wouldn't make it out alive. Once the dust had settled and their emotions had cooled, it was clear that their actions had been driven by a fear of impending death. She reasoned that if their friendship could bounce back from that, it could bounce back from this as well.

Ginny would occasionally offer to help her research in the library, not coming off quite as subtle as she thought she was. She knew Hermione was resolutely avoiding anything that reminded her of a certain Slytherin.

Hermione knew that if she was being the smart, pragmatic witch she usually prided herself to be, she would dedicate every available minute to unravelling the truth behind the magic affecting them.

But at the moment her defence mechanisms were in full effect and denial reigned over her. Perhaps they could simply run out the clock on this thing. It would have to be one hell of a dark curse to last forever and after this year she was unlikely to ever see him again. On the other hand, if it was indeed a prophecy then it probably wouldn't let up until its terms were fulfilled.

She still clutched to torn shreds of hope that the next time she saw him her pulse wouldn't quicken and the sharp angles of his face and body would simply drift through her mind without pause for the memory of his lips over hers and his hands on her body.

After a couple more days of blond headed, heart clenching stolen glances the tattered remnants of hope started to float away a little more. It was the same. Every time. Her body would react at the mere sight of him and there was nothing to indicate that this would simply go away without intervention.