A week into January and the weather had reached its coldest. Hermione was standing in the kitchen pantry, rubbing herself trying to keep warm as she searched for that hidden packet of biscuits she'd stuffed somewhere. It'd be a lot easier if she wasn't so stubborn and had turned the light on.

"Looking for something?" Malfoy asked from behind. Hermione already could tell he was leaning against the entry frame with his hands stuffed into his pockets. That was his judgemental look.

"Ah huh!" She exclaimed, reaching behind the canned tomatoes to get the ginger biscuits. "Found you."

Apparently they had expired two weeks prior. Oh well, she thought, worse things have tried to bring her down.

She hadn't seen Malfoy much of tonight. He had skipped dinner with an excuse of an upset stomach, and then didn't go out to the gates until after 1am. Hermione had already eaten two rounds of sandwiches, a bowl of noodles and a candy cane by the time he came back inside to meet her in the kitchen.

His hair was extra fluffy when she turned to face him. He appeared to have napped without combing afterwards. A rather strange breaking of habit for the blond.

"Are you alright?" She asked. "You look rather tired, still."

"I'm fine. I slept all afternoon and into the evening."

"Was it your scar?"

That sounded odd being said out loud to anyone else that wasn't Harry Potter. Especially Draco Malfoy.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked, hard. "No, I think all this staying up late finally caught up to me."

To be fair, she didn't blame him for being exhausted. While they used to simply talk for a few hours over food, now they had opened the floodgates to snogging while everyone else slept. Well, if you'd call it snogging.

Some nights they would only talk. Other nights they would talk and climb on top of one another. There was no real pattern to it, however, they hadn't gone to bed before 5am since the new year started.

"Do you want to go back into my room and sleep for a little longer?" Hermione offered, placing the biscuits back on the shelf.

"No, I don't like sleeping all that much."

Malfoy hadn't made a custom of staying in Hermione's room at night. During the day if he ever needed an escape she could usually find him sleeping on top of her sheets, but he always returned to the attic at night. She gathered that he needed to isolate himself so as not to feel suffocated by her.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

His silence spoke for him. She had not figured out what nightmares haunted him yet, though, if he wanted her to know he would tell her. Maybe missing out on the knowledge of what Death Eaters do behind closed meeting doors was for the best.

Hermione went to leave the pantry, "I saved you some dinner, if you wanted some." He blocked her before she could exit.

"Perhaps a bit later."

She looked at him confused until it clicked as to why he was staring at her neck. The glamour charms she'd been using had probably faded, and now the blue and purple marks he'd given her were on full display.

"You know I have to wear higher neck sweaters now because of you," he purred. "It is awfully time consuming."

"That would be because you are paler than parchment, Malfoy. I can be more gentle if you'd like?"

He shook his head from side to side, unhurried. "Not a chance. Although, this marking right here," he pointed to a glamoured spot under his jaw, "hurts. Perhaps you can heal it for me?"

She hated how easily he could make her giddy. One day she'd learn how to do the same to him.

"What would you prefer? For me to heal you with my wand or," she stretched on her tiptoes to skim her lips over the lump in his throat. "With my mouth?"

He wrapped an arm around her body and pulled them together tightly. "Your mouth."

His wish being her command, Hermione kissed him where it hurt. Soft at first, then forcefully, to ensure they might have to use three charms to cover it up tomorrow. His fingers fed through her hair as she did so.

He tugged her by the roots so she was forced to look up at him.

"Where is your wand?" He said, deeply.

"On the dining table."

He backed them up so they were against the shelving and shut the door behind him with his foot. "Guess you'll have to be quiet this time."

The smaller space was immediately pitch black, leaving only an outline of his silhouette for her to see. It lowered, and she heard the sound of his knees hitting the ground, followed by the feeling of his fingers on her pyjama shorts.

Hermione gasped and sucked in her stomach at the chill of his lips below her navel.

"You're going to need to be a lot quieter than that for what I want to do to you." He whispered onto her skin. "Tap me three times if you want me to stop."

She nodded, then said, "Okay," realising he couldn't see her.

Her pyjamas were shimmied down to her ankles, then were tossed to the side once she stepped out of them. Malfoy kissed the inside of her knees on both sides. That was a type of pleasure she concluded she liked a lot.

He made to her inner thighs and left her burning with every peck along the way.

Hermione wanted so badly to make a noise when he skipped the part of licking her over her knickers, and went straight to pulling them aside. As if it was a reflex, she put one leg over his shoulder, hungry for more.

She was dripping wet without the aid of his mouth.

Malfoy seemed to know she liked to be teased before given what she wanted. He ran his tongue along her entire cunt, and stopped before the sweet spot, then did it once more. He truly was gifted.

Without taking a breath, he ripped her knickers into shreds then used his hands for a more useful role of massaging her bum. Hermione wanted him to rip every pair of her knickers she owned.

"I'll buy," he finally sucked on her clit, "you," suck, "a new," suck, "set."

She couldn't even respond, her eyes were at the back of her head.

He's definitely said that line to other witches before.

Malfoy buried his face deeper into her and inhaled the musky scent that was filling the walk-in cupboard. He wasn't just good with his mouth, he was good with his nose too. The pointiness of it made her jerk repeatedly.

His tongue swirled clockwise, then anticlockwise, then in a criss-cross formation. He came up for air and she could hear him panting. It was equally as heavy as her own breaths.

She could have cried when he lifted her leg off his shoulder and stood back up. He found her neck and wrapped that same leg around his calf. There was no ignoring how hard he was, nor was there any denying that she was soaking his trousers from how she grinded against him.

If it weren't for the fact that he told her he had planned something, his belt would have already been on the floor.

They swapped between who was snogging who, although Hermione liked it more when he was snogging her. He seemed to agree by how quickly he'd take back over.

His right hand sauntered down her stomach and he stopped kissing her neck when he arrived at her cunt.

"You're going to drive me mad with how wet you are."

She blushed in the dark.

"Let me show you what I can do with my hands?" He said that as a question more than a statement.

"I have to warn you," she swallowed, and struggled to regain her breath. "I haven't liked it in the past, with other-"

"Don't challenge me with a good time, Granger. I'll take pride in proving you wrong." He nibbled at her left ear, "over," then her right, "and over again."

Hermione panicked for a split second, and he probably felt her tense. "Tap me three times, yeah?" He relayed. "I'll stop when you want to."

"I may never want you to stop."

He tilted her chin up and when she thought he was going to kiss her on the lips, he went for the tip of her nose instead. "You'll tell me to stop tonight."

A middle finger went through her folds and slipped inside her. Hermione bit his shoulder to stop herself from moaning. It didn't really work, her shriek came out muffled if anything.

Malfoy slowly and steadily pushed his finger in and out of her while using his other hand's thumb to rub her back. He was relaxing her. As uncomfortable as it first was, she sunk into his touch and spread her legs apart for him to go deeper.

The only other person who she had done this with was Victor. He was rough and didn't care for the significance in which that moment held to her. He even scratched her. Internally.

Once she warmed to the motion of Malfoy's movements, she leant back into the shelving.

This allowed him to return to his knees. The addition of his mouth on her clit made her cry out silently, then take a big gasp. He picked up the pace and her hips followed his lead.

"Do you want more?"

She bit down on her back teeth then said, "Yes, please. I want more."

Obliging to her request, Malfoy carefully slipped in a second finger. His arm was long enough to cover her mouth with his palm when she groaned. She was grateful he did, because that would have woken someone up.

It was getting rapidly hot and Hermione was sweating. He pumped to a speed she could handle and distracted her from the unfamiliarity of such thickness inside her with his tongue. If this was what it was like at first, she was nervous about how good it would feel when she was used to it.

A "Fuck," quietly fell out once or twice, then an "Oh, God," when he got quicker.

Her knees were giving way and Malfoy had to hold her up by pushing her against the shelves.

"Tell me when you're close," he insisted.

"I'm so close."

He curled his fingers at the perfect angle, "Yeah?"

"Y-yeah."

There was a build up that seemed to last a lifetime. She was staring into nothingness and when she closed her eyes to picture his face, she knew she was going to come.

"Don't stop," she told him. "Don't stop. I'm going to-"

His palm slapped over her mouth again and she whimpered into it as he sucked on her and didn't retreat from his fast working pumps. She came around and all over her fingers.

Heat surged through her entire body.

She lost all control over what she was doing and had to hold onto the pillars on the shelving to stop herself from falling. Though her arms had apparently lost their strength too and she crumpled over Malfoy's shoulder. His free hand kept her in balance.

He pulled his fingers out, cautiously. Both her insides and her outside were sensitively raw.

"Fuck, you taste so sweet," he said, standing them up. "The sweetest I've ever known."

Hermione was still panting when he stuck his fingers in her mouth and made her taste herself. She couldn't quite comprehend what was going on but swallowed anyway. He was right, she did taste sweet.

"Did that feel better than…" He trailed off and probably realised that there was a possibility the other person who had touched her like that was Ron. She quickly saved him from himself.

"Victor. And yes, you have salvaged my beliefs in the power of a man's hands."

His arm slung around her lower back, keeping her upright. Hermione rested her forehead on his chest and took a moment to compose herself. She'd be lying if she said she didn't want to stay like this all night.

Malfoy bent to pick up her torn knickers and pyjama bottoms. It was still pitch black, however their vision had adjusted by now. He helped her back into the untattered clothing without too much fumbling. Though, it didn't hurt for his hands to keep roaming up her legs.

"Do I have to tell us to stop now?" She asked. Her pitch came off similar to a child asking to stay at their friend's house for five more minutes.

"We've explored enough uncharted territory for tonight."

"Why?"

He exhaled with a bit of a growl to it. "Because like you, I'm worried I won't be able to stop."

Hermione sat on the thought that Malfoy was only doing with her what he had done with girls in school. This was new to her but it isn't new to him. He wasn't remoulding his pureblood traditions for the sake of a muggle-born, it was clear she wasn't worth that extent of rebellion.

Stepping back from his hold on her, she left the pantry without a follow up protest.

She knows now when she isn't wanted.

There were two mugs laid out on the kitchen table. He must have been going to make tea before he found her searching for the biscuits. She ignored them, took her wand and as casually as possible made her way upstairs.

Draco Malfoy would not have been the first pureblood in his family to fool around with girls born from muggles, the temptation to sin was too strong. However, he also doesn't want to be the first to define himself as a blood traitor either.

Hermione felt like a fool. Like a right idiot for falling for it.

She went to the bathroom and cast a muffling charm to prevent anyone from hearing her hyperventilate. The mirror above the sink showed her the reflection of the lovebites all across her neck. A memory of Cho telling her that Malfoy used to make girls show off his claim on them, played across her mind.

Jealousy made her question why he hadn't done the same to her.

The answer was there. He'd denied that her being a mudblood didn't matter to him, but it was apparent that it did.

With a plan to end this pantomime naturally, Hermione splashed herself with cold water and went to her bedroom. On cue, Malfoy was standing by the fireplace, scanning some of her books. He turned without an expression.

Hermione fiddled with the hemming of her shirt. "I think this should end. I need to go to bed," she said timidly.

He raised a brow, "Did I say something to offend you?"

"No. I just want to go to bed."

The sadness in her voice didn't help her argument. She went to walk to her side of the bed but Malfoy grabbed her by the wrist.

"What did I do, Granger?"

She couldn't look him in the eye. If she did, she might not be able to have the strength to stay controlled. "If I'm in the wrong here, I need you to tell me," he pleaded.

"I don't know how to be something that you want, Malfoy."

Okay, that came out of nowhere.

He frowned and tightened his grip on her wrist. "Who said that I did not want you?"

"You did, and Cho as well. Before you and I started meeting up she told me about all those stories from school where you made the girls you shagged not use a concealment charm. I know you did it to mark your territory and you wanted everyone to know those witches were yours. I also know that you don't ask me to do it because you're using me as a mere distraction from whatever is going on in your head.

"At first I thought I was okay with it, because if Draco Malfoy is using me, at least he is using me. Not Cho, not Ophelia, me. And maybe my ego is equally as big as yours, and that made me feel better about myself. But I'm not going to be made into looking like a fool any longer simply because you're sheepish about doing things with a muggle-born."

So much for being mature.

Malfoy flicked between staring at different parts of her face. "Are you done?" He said, letting go of her wrist.

Folding her arms, Hermione gave one last low blow. "Also, I am not a consolation prize for your inability to follow in your parents footsteps."

"First of all," he stepped in closer so that their chests collided. "We are not in school anymore, Granger. I was an insecure prick at Hogwarts who needed validation from everyone I knew. Do you really want me to make you show off your bruises to your little friends?"

"Well, no, but it is the principle of-"

"Second. I made myself abundantly clear that your blood status is irrelevant to me. I've picked glass from your skin, I know we bleed the same. There is nothing I want to do more than to throw you onto that mattress right now and claim you as my own."

That image was going to replay in her brain for the rest of eternity.

"I stop us because as fine as I am with you being a muggle-born, you will come to regret giving yourself up to a Death Eater."

"That is not your decision to call. It's mine."

"I am saving you from making a mistake."

Hermione put her hands over his biceps. "I told you, I don't like being saved."

They stood, chest to chest, for a minute. Malfoy stepped away first to remove his watch and place it on the nightstand, all while staring her down. He stripped himself of his shirt and jeans, then pulled back the covers to her bed.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Going to bed."

"You're not going back to the attic?"

"Not tonight. Now, enough fighting and get in."

It took her feet a while to translate what they were being told to do. She walked over to her side of the bed and sat down first to remove her bra. The wiring of it was making her feel claustrophobic and she didn't have the energy to care about how much her breasts bounced when she laid down next to him.

He was on his back, and she mirrored the position. If they were going to be facing or not, that was going to be on him, not her.

They both stared at the ceiling, not saying anything. Hermione wanted to know what the point of him staying here was.

"You got a part wrong in your speech before," Malfoy broke the silence.

"Oh, do tell."

"I never shagged any of those girls in school. I've never shagged anyone."

She wasn't quite sure she heard him correctly. "What?"

"Everything that I know is everything that I've shown you. Here on out it is the blind leading the blind."

This was a new brand of guilt that Hermione was experiencing. She literally just yelled at him for not giving her his virginity.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume. You are very good at that sort of stuff and I gathered-"

"You gathered my undeniable sex appeal was irresistable to other witches. I don't blame you, I do ooze arousal."

She rolled over and punched him in the hip. "Piss off, I am trying to genuinely apologise here."

His chuckle that followed was deeply soothing. "There is nothing to apologise for. Subconsciously, I probably did not tell you because I wanted you to see me in the highest regard. Being vulnerable is not my strong suit."

"Yes, well I should not have gotten angry with you over something you have the right to deny."

He turned to his side with his arm under the pillow and did that manoeuvre again where he pulled down her bottom lip with his thumb.

"Give it time, and you will come to your senses," he said.

Hermione shifted so that she was almost laying on top of him. Her right hand felt for every scar that stood out against his skin. Some were older that were ragged and white, others were thick and made him hiss when she traced them.

"Tell me some of these have good memories behind them," she said.

"There are a few from my reckless childhood. We can blame Potter for the ones along my chest, but Goyle gave me the ones on my hip. He truly was bollocks at throwing spells."

"What about this one?" She pointed to a dent under his rib.

"A brooming incident. Three fractures in the summer after fourth year."

"Did it hurt?"

He smacked his lips. "Will it make me seem tough if I say yes?"

"Maybe," she lent over to kiss it. "Depends on how long you stayed at St Mungos."

"I didn't. I healed myself. Badly, mind you."

Hermione 'ooed. "You are very tough."

Her hand travelled past his stomach and down to his underwear. She traced the outline of his cock and moaned when it twitched for her.

"I thought you wanted to go to bed?" He teased.

She kissed him on his collar bone. "I came to my senses."

There was a lot of restraint between them to not take this where it hadn't been before. Hermione forced herself to go slow and cup his entire length on the outside of the black material he wore. Her wand was on her nightstand, but she wanted him to have to be quiet, too.

She reached in under the elastic and did what she did on the outside, on the inside.

"Tell me what you want," she whispered. "Do you want me to make you wait for it?"

His eyes were shut and his head thrown as far back as it could go into the pillow. She licked his exposed neck from the bottom to the top of his chin. He gasped at that.

"I want you-" he breathed through her tracings, "I want you to stay up here with me."

"You want me just to use my hands?"

"Mmhm."

Hermione lived for challenges. She decided that she wouldn't use her mouth at all, and wrapped her hand around his base. Tight. He grumbled and cursed her surname.

Without her tongue, it was drier than when she had done at new years. She thought about spitting like last time but came up with a better idea. Letting him go for a second, he opened his eyes when she pulled back the blanket and she made him watch her finger herself through her knickers.

When there was enough moisture, she brought her hand back to his cock and lathered him in her wetness.

"Fucking hell," he growled. "You're ruining me."

Her pumps were basic to start, then worked their way up to a fast twist. He convulsed forward and she edged him back to a slower movement.

She fixated on his tip, utilising her thumb to make him say her name again. Everytime he said it, it was a reward. Her hand worked hard for that achievement, switching it up so he couldn't get used to anything, and surprised herself with how hard she could grip him.

He liked it most when she was rough.

Her arm was moving so fast that she was even puffing along with him. "Tell me what you're imagining."

He fought the words then said, "Your cunt."

"What about my cunt?"

The swearing didn't feel as dirty as she expected. She pumped him fast three times and then slower twice, keeping that pattern until he answered.

"How good you'd feel when I'm inside you."

"Ah huh."

"How wet you'd be for me."

It was not hard to imagine, Hermione was dripping from pleasing him. She moved up to a kneeling position and took off her shorts to bring his hand to see for himself. His fingers were soaked instantaneously.

"That's all from you," she praised and a tiny amount of pre-come came out of him. This gave her more freedom to stoke him better.

"Shit, I can't hold on much longer." He slipped a finger inside her and she stopped breathing.

She grinded on his hand at the same rhythm that she pumped him. Her nipples were rubbing against her sleep shirt and her breasts were bouncing up and down. Malfoy was watching them with an unbreakable bond.

It took everything in her not to straddle him and let him make her his.

He curled his finger inside her and she cried out into her free palm. She stopped moving on him and concentrated on making him finish. Her pumps went to a constant rapid pace.

"That's it," Malfoy panted. "Good girl. Keep go- Oh, fuck!"

He threw a pillow over his face and came all over his abdomen. Hermione kept going and didn't slow down until his finger fell from her insides. Her heart was beating a thousand miles an hour.

She read once that men need space after they've finished sexual actvity, so she slid away from him to retrieve her wand from the night stand. She cleaned them both up and let him take a moment while she sat near his knees.

His cock was still twitching when he took the pillow from his face and stuffed himself back into his underwear.

"Come here," he instructed. Hermione crawled to him and laid down on her back beside him, not touching. "Turn over to face the window."

She did as she was told and rolled. He moved hair away from her neck and kissed a line down to her shoulder, then swung his arm around to tug her against his chest.

"You've officially ruined me, Granger."

A smile crept up on her and she bit it down. "I need to practise. I want to be top of the class, and coming second to you is not good enough for me."

"Do you need a study partner?" He asked, mockingly. "I'd be happy to volunteer."

"We can meet at the library after curfew, if you want? I'm a prefect, I'm allowed to be out of bed after hours."

Her bum was met with his crotch. She wriggled around so that they fit like a puzzle piece.

"Have a library kink, do we? That doesn't surprise me."

"No different to your potions lab fantasy that you no doubt have."

"Slytherin locker room, actually. Specifically the open planned shower stalls."

Hermione huffed a laugh. His hand came up under her shirt and stopped at the dip in her middle. She was very aware of how much weight she had put on these past months and the size of her stomach was a newly discovered insecurity.

"How many witches have you held like this?" She asked.

He moved his palm to rub it along her entire side. Up every curve on her leg, to her bum and back to where he had it on her stomach. "You are the only witch I have held like this."

That was questionable, but she kept quiet.

"May I make a confession?" He asked.

"Yes."

"I have never-under clothing, I have never…"

She waited for him to finish the sentence but it seemed he struggled with how to say what he wanted out loud. For the first time, Hermione was able to read his mind.

She guided his hand up her chest, giving him permission.

He kissed her neck again as he felt her right breast. He held as much of it as he could then dropped it to move to her left. Hermione slid back a little to give him more room to explore. It was sort of beautiful how gentle he was being.

The memory of Theo resurfaced but Cho's advice to not let him ruin her intimacy swept it away. Her heart was scared for a few seconds and she took purposeful control of her breathing. She reminded herself that Malfoy asked for permission, and he wasn't going to hurt her.

She could tap three times.

His thumb traced over her nipple and her breathing hitched.

"You're too good for me," he muffled into her hair. "Way too fucking good."

She did not believe him, if only for the delusions that 4am brought.

As small as it was, Hermione was in a state of euphoria knowing that he was giving her one his firsts. Most of her teenage life she had been told how blessed she was to have a larger set of breasts, and yet until now she didn't know it was such a good thing.

Malfoy got a fair share of handling in before he spun her around to face him.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hi."

His chin rested on her hairline. "For whatever it is worth, I do not believe you are a consolation prize. You are nobody's consolation prize."

"I was angry and did not mean to say that."

"Being angry is just as good as being drunk. There is always truth hidden beneath everything confessed."

Her eyelashes fluttered against his sectumsempra scar. Even after all that sweating, he still managed to smell like honey and vanilla body wash.

"Do you think that what we're doing is simply a desperate measure to distract us from what's happening outside of this farm?"

He exhaled. "Of course it is a desperate measure."

"Is that why you are hesitant?"

"Yes. As well as what I told you before, about my past catching up to you."

Hermione wondered why he chose her to be his desperate measure. She knew why she chose him, but the know-it-all in her needed to figure out why it was her and not Ophelia, or Cho.

"Tell me about the other girls you have been with," she partly demanded.

"Why?"

"Something drew you to them. I want to know what that was, in the name of curiosity. You don't have to share with me what you did, I just want to know what you find attractive in a witch."

He laid back down on his pillow and gazed back up at the roof. "Should I go alphabetically or in chronological order?"

"First of all, gross. Second of all, chronological."

They both smiled with their teeth. Hermione propped herself up to lean on her elbow and ran circles around his old wounds while he talked.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "It was the fall of 1994 when Draco Malfoy returned to Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, with a brand new thirst for witches. His friend, Blaise, had shown him a muggle pornagrpahic magazine over the summer, and it was then that they learnt the beauty of tan lines and laced lingerie. Over the first term, there were several nights spent in overly steamed showers, wanking to flashbacks of legs spread wide open and lathered in soap."

"Ah, the origin of the Slytherin locker room fantasy."

"Priseicely." He drew that word out. "One day, in Herbology, one of the Patil twins had charmed her skirt to sit at the top of her thighs, giving a very purposeful preview to what was happening underneath. Now, Draco Malfoy was the cockiest of all of his friends, so in order to impress them, he dragged Padma into a supply closet after class. There was nothing about her personality that he particularly enjoyed, she just happened to be his first find for relief."

Hermione winced. "A little harsh. Why did you ask her not to cover up the markings you left her?"

"Draco was a very insecure teenager. He wanted to prove to his classmates that he was a man, and humiliated girls in order to do so."

"Right."

It was coming together now that he hadn't asked to cover herself up because he no longer needed to prove that he wasn't a child. Nor did he care about impressing other people anymore.

"Daphne Greengrass' persistent need to follow Draco everywhere he went is what drew him to her. At first, it was strange and he did not fancy other blondes, but then she started to play with his hair in class. That is a weakness of his. He only fooled around with her once, on the quidditch benches. Her clinginess was irritating after that and he used Amanda Brocklehurst to shoo her away. Amanda sent Draco messages in the form of paper doves telling him she thought he was cute. Draco took offence to that and showed her that cute was not the appropriate word to describe him as."

"So that is why she bragged about you being her Yule Ball date that day. I remember her telling the other girls to back off in the toilets."

"Yes, Amanda assumed she was going to be Draco's date to the ball. That was proven otherwise when Pansy Parkinson pulled him into an empty classroom and begged him to take her, using her mouth. Both vocally, and in other creative tactics."

Malfoy halted in his story and Hermione grew anxious that they had hit a trigger point. "You don't have to talk-"

"It's fine," he flicked his nose with his knuckle. "I want to talk about her."

She brushed his hair back and let him continue.

"Pansy Parkinson had been in Draco's life for a very long time. It was set in stone that they were to one day marry once they had graduated from school. This worried Draco. Pansy had a spunk to her that could not be duplicated. She was funny, but only by being cruel. She was beautiful, but was not humble about it. She had the confidence to rule the world, and strived to do so. Pansy was everything, but not what Draco wanted to marry.

"He gave into her persuasive ways and took her to the Yule Ball, then told her he needed space the next day. There were slip ups where Draco was lonely and called upon her, that he cannot deny. However, he soon found new company in Ophelia Jane."

This is what Hermione came for. She braced herself for the worst.

"Ophelia Jane was every wizard's dream witch. Her laugh was typically what they fell for first, however Draco was two years younger to Ophelia and did not care for something as fickle as a laugh. She was more mature than the other girls that he had been with, and went to her to learn how to master his skills. This was a business deal to Draco, not romance."

"Really? You weren't magically connected to the sparkle in her oceanic blue eyes or anything?"

He tilted his head to smirk at her. "I don't trust blue eyes. I find more comfort in those with brown."

"Dick."

"Anyway—Draco's father went to Azkaban the summer after fifth year. This was a wake up call for Draco when he was suddenly pushed to be the head of the household. An evil wizard was taking reign over the country, and living in his childhood manor. During his time back at home, Draco decided it was time to step up for his family's sake. He began to court Pansy to please his mother, and he took the Dark Mark to save her too."

"Then what?"

"Then everything went to shite. Draco lost a part of his soul trying to murder the world's greatest sorcerer, and staying with someone he did not love. After numerous breaking points, Draco surrendered to himself and joined the right side of the war, but the price cost him his girlfriend's life."

Hermione could feel his heartbeat. It was steady and not at all erratic. She contemplated asking him if he had ever properly snogged any of those witches but decided against it.

He had talked about Pansy without doing damage to anyone or anything. That needed to be acknowledged.

She came off her elbow and laid parallel to him. "Thank you for sharing that with me. You are a very good story teller."

"I'm not quite finished."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Continue."

"Draco Malfoy was at his lowest point when he was taken to a farm to pull him from the edge of death. He burnt his Dark Mark off on the stove whilst his old schoolmates and aunt were sleeping the night they arrived. That nearly killed him a second time. Then, one day a swot named Hermione Granger caught him sneaking around the house."

She smacked him, "Hey!"

"Hermione might have been a swot, but she was the type of person Draco couldn't walk away from. She was irresistible, and out of bounds. Maybe that was why he needed to be around her, because he knew he shouldn't. Hermione was more than that though, she was more than an act of defiance, she convinced Draco that life was worth living again."

As if he had the sauve to swoon her so easily like that. Hermione might have needed to splash herself with water again.

Malfoy pulled her into his side and placed her arm over his torso. "Draco also secretly adored Hermione's hair. Okay, now I am finished."

"I knew it!" She exclaimed. "I don't know what Ophelia taught you when you were together, but I may need to thank her for moulding you into this person that makes me weak in the knees."

"Excuse you, that is all my own doing. You can thank me directly for that."

She held him tighter, "Perhaps another day."

"Swot."

"Prat."

This night had felt like it had been going on for a week. Hermione felt emotionally whiplashed having survived the rollercoaster.

Daylight was peaking through the crack in the curtains warning them that people would wake soon.

"You should sleep," Malfoy said as he curled into her.

"We should."

His body warmth made up for her lack of pyjama bottoms. This desperate measure was one of the better ones she'd pulled lately. Sleep came easy, and her worries momentarily faded away.