Chapter 5


Draco sat glumly at the dining table. His Mother was casting dark glances at him yet still he was unable to make the scowl on his face disappear. Illuminated by the candelabra in front of him, he knew the shadows on his angled features were deep. He felt a small twinge of guilt, knowing that he was not the only one who was sitting here miserably and glanced up to see his Mother's blue eyes slide off of him as she pushed some peas around on her plate.

He looked away quickly and his eyes landed on the empty chair at the head of the table. Normally his Father would be sitting there, sipping a glass of amber whisky or blood red wine to celebrate the evening. This year however, the empty chair only made Draco lose what little appetite he had left. His fork clattered against the dish as he let it fall.

"Draco," His Mother's voice sounded in the same tone she had talked to him with as a child. Draco rolled his eyes and avoided looking at her. Instead he stared blankly down into his plate of barely touched food. "Finish your food."

"I'm not hungry." Draco muttered and reached for the wine goblet in front of him.

"You need to eat, Darling," Narcissa continued.

"I said," Draco paused as the lip of the goblet rested against his lower lip. "I'm not hungry."

"You're looking thin," Narcissa's tone changed. "I'm worried about-"

"I'm not a child anymore, Mother!" He snapped and locked eyes with his Mother.

She jumped in her seat a little at his sudden outburst. Draco felt another twinge of guilt as hurt flashed briefly in her deep blue eyes. He took a long sip of the wine to drown it out.

"Don't pester the boy, Cissy," His Aunt's scratchy voice cut in.

"Don't tell me how to parent my son!" Narcissa retorted, turning towards her older sister.

Bellatrix, her husband Rodolphus, and his Brother Rabastan were all guests in the Manor. Or at least, that is what his Mother called them. The three escaped convicts were still in hiding from the Ministry and had taken refuge in Draco's ancestral home. He had never known his Aunt growing up and the years in Azkaban must have only antagonized her deteriorating mental frame as far as he could tell.

His Father had not been thrilled to offer then quarter, but had done so at his Mother bequest. Without Lucius as the main power force in the house though, Bellatrix was pushing her limits and Draco could see then strained tension between his Mother and her Sister clearly across the table.

"-You've always babied him," Bellatrix's curt voice cut into his thoughts.

"How would you know?" Narcissa muttered darkly. "Not like you've been around."

Bellatrix sat up straighter in her chair. "I was serving the Dark Lord!"

"You were serving a lifetime sentence." Narcissa's mouth barely moved as she uttered the words.

The darker witch's hands slammed down on the table, her charcoal eyes flickering with the reflection of the flames from the hearth.

"I'm not locked up anymore." She hissed. "The Dark Lord freed me, yet…" She leaned forward towards her younger sister. "Your husband is spending Christmas Eve as a feast for the Dementors!"

Narcissa gasped loudly. The air seemed to freeze around the small group of what was left of Draco's family in the oversized ornate room. Bellatrix sneered seeing the hurt on her Sister's face.

"Don't speak about my Father like that," Draco spat out.

Bella's dark eyes swiveled towards him and he saw the excitement in them as she spied a new victim. "Yes," She drawled. "You certainly are your Father's son." Her thick lip curled up, baring mottled teeth.

"That's right." Draco raised his chin and glared back at her.

A tense moment passed between them and Draco felt the eyes of the other members of the table darting back and forth between him and his Aunt, but he held fast, not letting his iron-grey eyes slip from hers.

"Enough of this." Narcissa finally said firmly. "Draco if you're not going to eat you may go to your room-"

"You can't order me around like a child-"

"Bella, while you are in this house you will respect the Malfoy name," She continued without missing a beat. "And all who bear it."

Bellatrix huffed and rolled her eyes. "He'll have to earn my respect if he wants it." She muttered darkly then her dark eyes gleamed across the table at Draco once more. "We'll know soon enough."

"Yeah, you will." Draco countered back and grit his teeth. He knew if he stayed at the table much longer there was an increased chance someone would pull out a wand and having no desire to keep company with them any longer, Draco pushed himself up from the table, grabbed the bottle of wine and stalked out of the dining room.

Malfoy Manor was a large house with a long foyer running down the middle of the first floor with spacious rooms coming off of it. Draco took a swig of wine from the bottle and made his way to the grand staircase that led to the private rooms. The hallway was lined with portraits of his ancestors, most of them drowsily nodding in their frames. Draco had always been a bit annoyed by his dead relatives' flat eyes staring down at him or their condescending opinions on trivial things like his footwear.

Tonight, thankfully, he slipped past most of them without their notice. He passed his Father's study knowing the door was locked. His Mother had closed it up the day his Father had been arrested and only opened it twice since then; once for the Ministry as they ruthlessly raided his house and the other when Draco had seen her coming out of it purely by chance. He had asked her if he could go in, but she merely shook her head and told him his Father would want it exactly how he left it when he returned.

If he returned, Draco thought darkly as he made his way farther down the hall. Not everyone survived Azkaban, even short sentences. They did not allow visitors on the small island so he had no way of knowing how his Father was coping or if he was being taken care of. His Mother was constantly sending requests to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to try and get them to reconsider letting her visit him, but they would not budge.

He wasn't sure, if given the chance, if he would travel across the North Sea and face the dark cells of Azkaban to see his Father again. Draco… admired his Father, in a way. He was raised to be the pride of Pureblood society and would have made any Father proud, but Lucius was not any Father. He was stern, strict, and expected excellence at all times. When Draco came home at the end of his first year at Hogwarts and had failed to make the top mark in each of his classes, Lucius had not tried to hide his displeasure.

Instead Draco had hid the bruises.

Second year he had made the Quidditch team and could not have been more thrilled, but when his Father had come to his first match and he had failed to beat Potter to the Snitch, Lucius had not even waited on the Pitch for Draco to land. He had run into the stands, looking for his Father, but was informed by Professor Snape that his Father had to leave on urgent business.

Snape was a talented liar, but Draco still knew the truth.

He had made it to the large double doors of his room and his hand landed heavily on the handle. The wine was starting to soak into his brain. He tumbled inside, slamming the door behind him. He chugged another few mouthfuls of the aged wine that probably cost more than most people's entire Christmas dinner, decorations, and presents put together and stumbled over to his bed, kicking off his shoes.

Draco both resented and respected his Father. He knew the world they lived in was a harsh, cruel, and dark one. Lucius had clawed his way to a prominent position and Draco respected that about him. But his Father had a tendency to turn that same ruthlessness on his own family. Draco had learned early on the valuable skill of keeping himself under control in order to avoid his Father's wrath.

But tonight was an exception. He turned the wine bottle up again and let the dark red liquid dribble over his chin slightly as he sucked it down. He had kept it all together for so long, he had to for his Mother. Narcissa had lost her composure for a while after Lucius was taken and screamed and threw herself on the dark marble floor, beating it with her fists. The house elves had taken her to her rooms and she had not come out for three days.

But Draco had taken it all in stride. He had not let his head fall an inch as he walked through Diagon Alley nor had he let his hand shake as he held out his arm in placement of his Father's to his new Master. Draco sank onto the bed. He had traded an overbearing Father for a Dark Lord. What was the difference really? They both required many of the same things of him; although his Father had never given him an order to kill.

He closed his eyes and let the world swirl sickly around him. If he could only reach out and grab something maybe it would stop spinning but it was gaining speed and momentum and would not slow down no matter how tightly he closed his eyes.

That's what his life would entail- murder. Either he would murder someone or be murdered in turn. It was his fate and there was nothing he could do about it. All his years of keeping himself under control meant nothing now that his entire world was spinning out from underneath him. He felt like he was being flung through space, far, far away from the warmth of the sun into the cold, unfeeling darkness of the void.

He tipped the bottle back and drank down the last dregs of wine still in there, licking the cold glass for the last drop before letting the bottle clatter loudly onto the floor. Drinking helped. For the few hours he could drown himself in alcohol, the weight of his task did not lie so heavy on him. Well, everything was lighter underwater, Draco mused, chuckling to himself.

But there had been one other thing that he found that helped, not even a thing, but a person… No. A thing. Granger was a thing. Draco pressed his palms into his eyes. Granger was a distraction, nothing more. But he had never needed a distraction so badly in his life. Between his Father, his Mother, his Aunt, his school work, his task, his Master, and his inevitable murderous conclusion Draco was at his breaking point.

But maybe it wasn't him that needed to be broken.

He was surprised to find that even a glance from her toffee brown eyes made something in him jump. A few words, even snapping ones, made his blood run a bit quicker. And Sweet Salazar touching her? Fuck…

He had barely made it back into the common room that night before he grabbed Pansy and pulled her down the stairs into his dorm with him, shoving her to her knees in front of him. Holding onto her head, he closed his eyes and made sure not to look down at her black hair, instead imaging running his fingers through caramel curls…

Draco threw one arm above his head and rested the other on his lower stomach. Any other night he would slide his hand further down and dive into his favorite fantasy of Granger bent over a table in the Library. He had stared at his hand for most of the trip back on the Hogwarts Express the day after. Gazing at it curiously. Strange that the fingers that curled inside her were only a few inches lower than the scorched mark on his arm that labeled him as her enemy.

Drunken thoughts swam lazily through his head. Was Granger a member of the Order? Did they take people that young? It didn't matter, he told himself, if she wasn't already, she would be soon. And the day might come where he faced her across a battlefield. Would that same hand hold the wand that cast a killing curse in her direction?

There had been a time where he would have been pleased to hear the news of Granger's demise. He hated her. She bested him at every subject, something his Father had never forgiven him for. He had tried to torment and humiliate her, hoping it would drive away some of her talent, but nothing seemed to work. She just kept on glowing like the fucking sun.

But it had felt so good to bask in her warmth, her heat… Draco's eyes shot open and he stared up at the high ceiling. That's what he needed. He needed one good shag from her and then he could put that distraction to rest. That's all he really wanted from her anyways. He might not be able to beat her marks in classes, but he could fuck the bitch.

And he would. It had almost started as a game, trying to get in the goody good's knickers because no one else was really a challenge anymore. The closest he had to challenge recently had been Cho Chang last year and the most challenging part of that was to try and catch her when she wasn't crying over either the boyfriend that died or the boyfriend that dumped her. Really, she had been easy pickings.

But Granger was different. She wasn't just for fun, she was… an experiment. She had a strange and willful pride that he was surprised to see in a Mudblood. His Father had always said they were a slow, dull sort but then again Granger was not your average Mudblood, her marks in class showed that. It would be interested to see how much it would take to break her. But more than that, he wanted to know how far he could push himself before he broke.


"Draco."

The sound of his name was muffled, distant, and soft. Draco had drifted far into the depths of his mind, chasing bouncing curls through dark stacks of books for the better part of the night.

"Draco."

There it was again. He screwed up his eyes as light penetrated through his closed lids, not even granting him the option of darkness anymore. He shifted under the duvet, turning on his side slightly towards the sound of his name. Draco pushed a few loose strands of pale blonde hair off of his face and was greeted with the deep blue eyes of his Mother staring down at him.

She held the empty wine bottle in her hands.

Draco pushed himself up to a sitting position on the bed. Or at least tried to. Halfway up his head began to pound mercilessly and he ended up grabbing it with one hand and leaning on the other's elbow to support himself.

"I thought you might want to come down for Christmas morning," Narcissa said in an oddly bland voice.

"Uh, yeah," Draco muttered.

"But that was five hours ago."

He opened one eye and glanced back at his Mother who was sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Oh."

There was a long pause in which Draco wasn't sure if he should try to explain himself or apologize. He opted for neither.

Narcissa gave a small sigh and set the wine bottle down on a mahogany table beside his bed.

"I suppose it doesn't matter." She said finally.

Draco faced the harsh light to watch her shoulders fall slightly.

"I, uhm," Draco pushed himself up successfully this time. "There should have been a present for you downstairs." He finished lamely.

"Yes, thank you." She forced a smile on her face. "Ashwinder skin?"

"Runespoor." Draco answered. "With puffskein lining." The gloves he had purchased for her had been extravagant, but without his Father here this year, he had wanted to give her something special. Something that would give her Pureblood society friends something to talk about other than her Husband's fall from grace.

"Thank you." She said again.

"You're welcome."

Things between them had been uncomfortable, both dealing with their grief. He loved his Mother, but recently he felt distant from her. At first he had thought it might have been the reappearance of her Sister. Ever since Bellatrix had come back into his Mother's life she had carried around a tension in her shoulders that anyone else would have missed, but Draco noticed daily. But deep down he knew it had nothing to do with his Aunt. It was the mark on his arm.

He glanced down at it. Black, twisted, and scarred into his pale flesh. It had been months, yet still an eerie red bruise surrounded it as if it had not healed entirely. He felt the hair on the back of his arm raise slightly and looked up to see his Mother staring down at it with him. Her ocean blue eyes poured into him for just a moment with all the words she couldn't say.

She knew what that mark meant better than most having seen it on her Husband for years. She knew that it meant he wasn't her Son anymore. Now he was a servant for the Dark Lord. And if he failed, he would not be granted a sentence in Azkaban. Draco crossed his arms over his chest, hiding it from view.

"Dinner is at six." She said as she stood up. "I expect you will be able to make it downstairs by then?"

"Yes, Mother." Draco said. Good, that would give him a few hours to soak and sweat out the alcohol in a hot bath.

Narcissa picked up the wine bottle and replaced it with a rectangular package with a black ribbon on it.

"Happy Christmas, Draco." She said before turning and leaving him to his hangover.


Draco woke back up to a late afternoon sun shining in the long windows of his room. His mouth was unbearably dry and he tapped a crystal glass with the tip of his wand, muttering, "Aguamenti" and gulping down the water quickly, repeating this three times before he slaked his thirst.

He stumbled into the bath adjacent to his room and slipped out of his boxers before slipping into the scalding water. He watched his pale skin turn pink in the intense heat and hissed as his left arm dropped into the water. The skin there was still tender. He glared down at the mark for a moment, then leaned his head back and rested it against the cool marble of the bath and closed his eyes again.

Draco wrapped a robe around himself and walked back into his bedroom. The carpet was soft and plush under his feet and he shook his head, letting small drops of water spray from strings of his hair. The sun was beginning to set now and he knew he could not miss dinner tonight no matter how much he wanted to stay locked up here in his room. He flicked his wand and trousers, a shirt, and a fine robe flew from his wardrobe and laid themselves out on his bed in front of him. He began pulling at the tie on his robe when something caught his eye.

Picking up the present his Mother left on his bedside table earlier today, Draco turned it over in his hands a few times before pulling the black ribbon off of the wrappings. The paper fell away onto the floor and in his hands lay an old yet surprisingly well preserved book. It was bound in leather that may have one time been a shade of bright red, but now looked like dried rusted blood. In gold filigree the title read "The Sacred Twenty-Eight".

He knew this book well. It was a compendium of the Pureblood families written by Cantankerous Nott a few decades earlier. More than that, this was the copy that had resided on the shelf in his Father's study. Draco opened it and paged through it, reading names he knew by heart.

There was one name he knew would never grace the pages of such a book- Granger. His blood was as Pure as you could get, untainted by common Muggle filth. The same filth that she was full of. It should disgust him, but instead he could not deny just how curious he was about her. Someone who should be no better than the dirt on the bottom of his shoes had somehow clawed her way into his brain and had dug herself in.

Draco tossed the book onto his bed and dressed himself. Tonight. He would make it through dinner, for his Mother's sake. He would hold his head up high, befitting the Malfoy name he now carried as the Master of the house. He would give the traditional toast and carve the roast beef and remind his guests that this was Malfoy Manor. Then much later, when he was back here and alone, he could think of her again.


He climbed the stairs slowly, each step heavy as he slowly made his way back upstairs. Dinner had been… trying. Tonight Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabstan decided to celebrate and they all indulged a little too much in drink. His Aunt's cackling laugh had echoed around the dining room and seemed to fill his head until he could hear nothing else.

Narcissa had tolerated them so Draco had done the same. It was the least he could do for her after storming out the previous night and missing Christmas morning. But when Rabastan had waved over a house elf and ordered it to bring another bottle of wine, Draco had given a small shake of his head and the house elf had disappeared quickly from their company.

"Nephew!" Bellatrix called from the bottom of the stairs and Draco's head turned over his shoulder. "Come back down here, I want to talk with you." She was smiling sickly, baring her ruined teeth and Draco fought revulsion at the sight of them.

"It can wait until the morning." He said in a low voice. His Mother had already retired to her rooms and he didn't have the energy to put forth the effort to handle his Aunt alone right now.

"He can't," She hissed and ran a long nailed finger up her left arm.

Draco sat stunned for a moment then blinked his eyes. "He hasn't called me. If he's summoned you I suggest you go. Now."

Bellatrix chuckled darkly and shook her head slowly making her dark curls fall into her face. Rodolphus and Rabastan appeared at her shoulders out of the darkness. They all wore strange expressions of excitement. Draco's hand twitched on the railing, readying himself in case he had to draw his wand.

"He already called me," She went on. "And I, of course, rushed to his side." She stuck her lips together in a sort of pout and nodded her head heavily. "He gave me a gift," She whispered. Draco's brows furrowed as he looked down on his extended family. "He said we can… have a little fun tonight." Draco watched her face carefully as the excitement on it turned to glee and her dark eyes gleamed. "I wanted to invite you along too."

He knew what this was; they were going out to terrorize some Muggles or something of the sort. It was almost disgusting how happy she was to do this. She enjoyed inflicting pain and terror in people in a way he had only ever seen in one other person- their Dark Lord. She really was his most faithful servant.

"I'm tired." He said. It was all he could offer right now.

"Draco," Bella cooed and took a few steps up. "It's tradition," She pouted and stopped a couple steps short of him. Then she reached out those long nailed fingers and grazed them over his hand on the bannister. It twitched under her touch and he forced it to stay in place. "And you're one of us now."

Granite eyes locked onto obsidian ones. He could refuse. He could turn and walk into his room and lock the door. He could lie in bed and let his thoughts drift back to where he had left them earlier. Granger was waiting for him in the back of his mind.

Or he could follow Bellatrix back down the stairs and into the frozen black night. Would they think him weak if he did not go? Would the Dark Lord? Draco kept his breath steady. He wondered what his Mother would say if she knew what her Sister was offering him? But he wasn't a child anymore; he was one of them.

Bellatrix grinned.


"Goodbye, Mother," Draco kissed her cheek, gripping his leather bag in his hand.

"Please write soon," She said softly, blue eyes deep as she looked up at him. He had grown taller than her by his fourth year and now measured the same height as his Father. He gave a flat smile and a quick nod. Draco had always hated goodbyes; they tended to get drawn out and people gushed emotions over him, but he always kept himself in control.

"I do wish you wouldn't stay at that…" She wrinkled her nose. "Awful Inn."

"I told you, I have business there." Draco said simply. He wanted to stop into Borgin and Burke's before heading back to school for the second term and it would be easier to spend the night at the Leaky Cauldron than travel back to the Manor just to travel to London again tomorrow. Plus, he was eager to get away from his Aunt. Every time he looked at her he saw what she had done that night… What he had done that night...

Narcissa straightened his coat. "Just like your Father," She whispered and when she looked up, Draco saw a few shining tears in her eyes.

"He'll be home soon," He said in a low voice, trying to comfort her. "Once I have completed my task the Dark Lord will set it all right again and it will be just like it was. Better, in fact."

A shadow passed over his Mother's face, temporarily making her look much older than she was. She gripped his hand tightly for just a moment and he felt the intention behind it. He wanted to say more, but couldn't find the words.

"Please be careful."


The door creaked to a close behind him and Draco stepped out into the darkened street of Knockturn Alley. The air was biting cold here and he felt damp seeping into his clothes quickly. He pulled the collar of his coat around his face and hunched his shoulders slightly to conserve heat, taking long strides away from Borgin and Burke's.

His visit had gone surprisingly well. Mr. Borgin's eyes had gone wide when he saw Draco enter his shop and had promptly closed it, shutting the shades so the young Malfoy would have privacy. Draco had inspected the sister cabinet intensely. It was so similar to the one he had spent the last few months working on it was almost hard to believe they were different cabinets at all, but on closer inspection this one seemed to be in slightly better condition. It seemed that Mr. Borgin had been cleaning it at least which in this shop was nothing less than a miracle.

He turned down a side street and after a little while saw the glowing gold windows of Diagon Alley shining back at him. The shops still left open were getting ready to close and the shopkeepers were busily sweeping the floors or restocking goods so they could hurry home to their families. Draco wandered alone through the twisted street. He almost winced at the offensively bright lights of Weasley Wizard Wheezes and glared back at it. Signs for "You-No-Poo" and Edible Dark Marks were plastered in the windows.

"You'll be sorry for that," He muttered under his breath and watched the small puff of white vapor glow distastefully, reflecting the orange light from the shop. He did not linger long and continued on down the almost empty street in the direction of the Magical Menagerie which he could smell before he could see. Much to his surprise he saw a familiar head of bushy curls walking out of it, waving happily back into the shop where the shopkeeper tapped the sign with his wand and the word "Open" changed to "Closed".

Draco stood in place, stunned to see her here. Granger was tucking something inside her bag as she moved towards him. It wasn't until there were only a few feet apart that she looked up and saw him. Granger slid to a stop in front of him, doe eyes wide and little mouth open in a small O shape. Draco drank in the sight of her. She was wearing a thick striped sweater with a scarf tied around her neck. Her curls flared out from under her wool hat looking almost like they were trying to escape. He realized they had been standing in the middle of the street staring at each other for quite some time.

"Granger." Draco said almost as a greeting. He didn't realize how much her physical proximity would affect him this way. His blood rushed through his veins created an intoxicating heat that flowed through him. He did his best to remain still, hoping she didn't realize.

"Uhm, hi." She said in a small voice, wringing her gloved hands.

"Buying Potter a new collar?" He drawled, falling back on his old habit of teasing her.

She narrowed her eyes a little. "No."

"Maybe a leash for Weasley then," Draco commented.

Her cheeks flushed pink and he was quite sure it had nothing to do with the cold. Weasley. He'd hit a nerve.

"I was buying some treats for my cat." She said waspishly and Draco fought the smirk that tried to appear. The awkward tension had passed and they were back at each other. But not exactly in the way he wanted.

"You mean that furball that follows you around in the corridors is a pet?" He said snidely.

Granger crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin. "His name," She enunciated clearly, "is Crookshanks."

Draco rolled his eyes as she continued to glare at him. He hated to admit it, but arguing with Granger was entertaining. The way she pressed her lips together, straightened her back, and shook her hair back let him know that deep down she must enjoy it too. Why else would she still be standing here?

"Are you just going to stand in my way all night or did you plan on fucking off?" He asked in a bored tone. Sweet Salazar, he loved that small look of shock on her face.

"Maybe you're in my way," She argued back, "Did you ever think about that?"

Draco took a step closer to her and could smell vanilla and cinnamon coming off of her. She smelled good enough to eat.

"No." He growled and watched her tawny eyes searching his and for a moment swore he saw a flicker of something in them. "See, it's always my way." Her breath floated in between them like a cloud and Draco wanted to inhale it. "So either move or come with me."

Granger paused, staring up at him with those big eyes he so desperately wanted to see looking up at him from his bed. His blood was still pumping quickly through him and he felt a rush of it to his groin.

"Where are you going?" She breathed out.

This time he couldn't stop the smirk. "Leaky."

"Oh." Granger said blinking. "Me too."

Draco leaned forward slightly. "Well isn't that interesting."

"Not really. I mean, it's the way back to Muggle London and plus, everyone visting stays… Oh." She blushed pink again and Draco wondered if her ass cheeks would turn that same color if he smacked them.

"Well Granger, I'm freezing my bollocks off out here and there's a warm booth at Leaky that's calling my name," You'll be calling it too, "So keep up."

Draco moved past her, careful not to let their arms touch. He wasn't going to touch her until he was good and ready. Until she was good and ready.

He heard her huff and then the sound of her footsteps following him all the way to the back door of the Leaky Cauldron.


He slid into the booth gracefully, shrugging his black coat off his shoulders and folding it beside him. The Leaky Cauldron was surprisingly empty. Normally the night before students were to return to Hogwarts from the holidays it was packed with families eager to beat the rush in the morning, but tonight the place was dank, dark, and deserted.

Granger stood nervously in the middle of the pub, twisting her feet sideways as if unsure where she was supposed to go. He watched her through his pale lashes and could not deny he liked her nervous dance just a little more than he should have. She bit her bottom lip and those caramel colored eyes turned towards him. Another rush of blood straight to his groin and Draco shifted in his seat.

Her chest expanded with a large breath and then she made a beeline for his booth, quickly sat down, and glanced around to see if anyone noticed. Draco noticed her breathing was slightly faster than it normally was as she hastily pulled the scarf from around her neck and the gloves off her hands. They were almost shaking as she rested them on the table for a moment only to pull them back into her lap.

"I think we need to talk."

How he hated those words. She could have called him a purist piece of shit and he would have minded less. Pansy had often said that phrase to him and it was always followed by quite a bit of whining, sometimes tears, and rarely anything good.

"Talking is thirsty work." Draco replied and waved his hand in the air to signal Tom, the barman. The old man shuffled to the end of the bar, throwing a rag over his shoulder.

"What can I get for you?" He asked a little too chipper for Draco's taste. He was obviously starved for customers and eager to please them.

"Fire whisky." Draco ordered and then glanced across the table to Granger, raising an eyebrow when she did not speak.

"Oh, uhm," She fumbled with her hands. "Just a Butterbeer, please."

Draco noticed she was trying to pull out some gold from her bag when he nodded at Tom again and two glasses floated over to their table. "Don't worry about it, Granger." He muttered.

Granger frowned as her Butterbeer landed in front of her, a bit of it slopping over the side. She stared into the foam as Draco took a sip of the amber liquid and let it burn all the way down.

"What's wrong?" He asked as he set his glass back down.

"You-" She stopped short, clearly choosing her words carefully. "You don't have to buy my drink."

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's a drink, Granger, that's all."

She lifted her eyes back up to his and he saw the wary look in them. She didn't trust him. She didn't even like him. But again he saw the small flicker of something else pooled deep inside her.

"Look, if you don't want it-"

"No! I mean," Granger sighed. "Thank you." She finally said and took a small sip of the Butterbeer. "But this doesn't… doesn't mean anything."

"Damn right." Draco quipped. "I just didn't want to wait on my drink because you couldn't find your gold in a timely manner."

Granger stared at him again and Draco let his face become a blank canvas. He wasn't sure if he liked the way she seemed to be trying to read him. Or maybe it was that he liked it too much. Draco took another sip of his drink.

"Good." She nodded. "Good, as long as we are both… on the same page."

It would be easy to keep buying her drinks until he leaned across the table and told her to go upstairs with him. He bet she was a lightweight so he could probably have her undressed in under an hour…

"And that's why I want to talk to you," Her voice cut into his thoughts.

"Is that really what you want to do to me?" He asked in a low voice, leaning forward slightly.

"Yes." She said firmly but he saw her hands shaking on the glass of Butterbeer. "I've had a lot of time to think over the holidays and, well, I think what happened… Well I don't think it should happen again."

"You think too much." Draco replied simply and took another drink.

"Maybe you don't think enough," She retorted. "Or maybe you just think with-" She nodded and her eyes cut to where his lap was under the table in a pointed glance.

"Is that what you thought about over the break?" Draco's voice was deep and quiet. "Did your hand feel as good as mine?"

She gasped and her doe eyes went wide. Is that what she would look like when he slid himself between her legs for the first time? He had to know.

"No-"

"No?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"No, I mean," Granger huffed and he saw her trying to pull herself back together. "I mean I didn't…" Her cheeks blushed pink again.

"Liar."

Granger stared at him until the blush crept up around her eyes and then took a long drink of Butterbeer.

"How'd you do it?" He leaned forward over the table.

"I hardly think that's-"

"Which hand?" He glanced down at her hands holding the mug of Butterbeer on the table. The one on the handle tightened its grip. Draco glanced up to her face again and she dropped her eyes down to that same hand. He reached out and ran a finger over the back of it. "What did you touch first?"

"Malfoy-"

"I asked you a question, Granger." He said with a bit of steel in his voice. "You remember what you do when asked a question, don't you?"

Her eyelids fluttered for a second before she answered. "I…" She breathed out shakily. "I just… did what you did."

Draco ran the tip of his finger down the length of hers. "Did you use this one?" He whispered.

Granger swallowed. "Yes." She breathed out.

"And…" He repeated the action with the next finger. "This one?"

He could feel her skin heating up under his touch and her face was cherry red now. She nodded.

"How was it?" He asked huskily and felt his own skin heating up. The fire whisky was burning inside him and the heat spread through his blood, pumping quickly all in one direction.

"Good." She said in a small voice.

"Good?" Draco pulled the two fingers off the mug and wrapped his hand around them. "But mine was better?"

She shifted in her seat and crossed her legs. As if that would keep him out.

"Different," She breathed out.

And what, uh, what did you think about while you had these," He ran his thumb over her fingers. "Inside you?"

Her lips were parted and she was breathing heavily. He could only imagine how wet her knickers were at this point.

"Just how it felt," She said softly and watched his fingers move over hers.

"How I felt, you mean," Draco purred. "How it felt when they were my fingers in you."

She tucked a few curls behind her ear with her other hand. "Yes."

"And what made you come?" Draco sucked on his bottom lip. He could feel his cock straining against his trousers, wanting to get to the girl in front of him. He was going to fuck the shit out of her. Just ravage her. He was going to-

"I didn't." She said plainly. "I-"

"So you played with that sweet little pussy and didn't even-"

Granger pulled her hand off the table and folded them in her lap again. Her eyes darkened as she stared at the drink on the table for a moment. "That isn't going to happen again," She started.

"Need me to finish you off?" Draco asked with a smirk.

"No-" Hermione said firmly and opened her mouth to continue.

"Then will you finish me off because hearing about you fucking yourself has got me all hot and bothered."

"Malfoy!"

"What? Don't tell me you aren't creaming yourself right now thinking about it."

"Oh my goodness," She grabbed her scarf and gloves off of the seat. "This was a mistake. All of it was. I'm leaving."

She was halfway up when Draco growled, "Like Hell." And jumping up, blocked her from rising from the booth. The fact that her head was now level with his waist was just a bonus. Granger's gaze fell to his trousers and the sharp outline there. "Sit your ass back down."

Granger sat back down. Draco lowered himself into the booth next to her. He could smell the same vanilla and cinnamon he had before and let his chest expand with it before stretching his arm out around the back of the seat. "Now," He leaned forward and Granger stiffened as he neared her, grabbing his fire whisky from the other side of the table and dragging it in front of him. "Finish your Butterbeer."

"I don't want it." She answered back.

"Don't be rude-"

"Rude?" Granger exclaimed. "You're the one who-"

He placed his hand on her knee and gripped it. He felt her body freeze in place and took another sip of his fire whisky before leaning in close to her. "I'm the one who made your pussy-"

He felt the tip of her wand poking him in the ribs. Draco glanced down to see her vine wood wand gripped tightly in her hand. He sighed and looked back up at her with a bored expression.

"It's wrong, Malfoy." Granger said, raising her chin. "You don't even like me."

"Who said that?"

"You did!"

"Oh come on, Granger," Draco didn't fancy having to chase her back down again. "That has nothing to do with-"

Her wand left his ribs and he felt it press into his already tight trousers.

"Watch it!" Draco jumped back. Granger shot him a nasty smile. He glared at her. She was right; he didn't like her. He fucking hated her. Hated her because no one else would have been clever enough to pull on a wand on him like that. "Be careful with that. You're going to want him in working order-"

"Shut up!" Granger hissed. "I don't! I don't want to do this anymore! I don't like…"

"What? What don't you like?" Draco leaned back closer to her again. "Because you liked everything that night."

Her eyes darkened with thoughts. "I don't like the way you make me feel."

"Yes," Draco purred and put his hand back on her leg. "You do. In fact," He moved his hand up higher onto her thigh. "I think you secretly love it." He locked his rain grey eyes on hers and licked his lips. "I saw it in your eyes when I told you to sit back down. I saw it when I told you to answer my question. You like being told what to do."

Granger was shaking in front of him; obviously uneasy with the fact that they both knew he was right.

"Don't fight it," Draco pulled on a curl and let it bounce back up. "It's just the way you are."

"How… How do you know?" She asked shakily.

"Because, I know how I am and now I know why I could never get you out of my head." He pushed her hair over her shoulder and was greeted with another wave of the cinnamon vanilla that was Hermione Granger. "You don't have to worry about anything. I remember your 'rules'. All you have to do, my little Mudblood, is exactly what I tell you to."

She bit her lip and Draco remembered the sweet taste of them. She brought her eyes up to his and the flickering in them flared into a small flame.

Granger nodded.

"Good girl," Draco smirked and ran his hand up a few more inches until he reached her hand. "Now, let's see what this hand can do, hmm?" He pulled it forward and placed it on the bulge of his trousers.

"Malfoy!" Granger whispered fiercely.

"Shhh," Draco moved her hand over him slowly. "You need to be quiet right now, okay? No one can see us back here, but if you keep making noise you'll cause attention."

Granger tried to glance around him, but the booth Draco had chosen was one tucked far in the back. He popped open the button on his trousers and pulled them open. Granger glanced down nervously and Draco chuckled. "It's okay, go ahead and pull him out."

The feeling of her skin against his flesh was almost enough to make him lose it. Draco hissed in a breath as she pulled his hard cock out under the table and held it in her hand. It was obvious that she had never done anything like this before, but he found her inexperience endearing. He grasped her hand in his and slid it up and down a few times, showing her how to please him.

"Just like this," He said in a husky voice. "And-" He tightened her grip just slightly. "Yes," He said in an almost groan as he leaned back.

Granger seemed entranced watching her hand move over him. She held him just like he showed her, keeping the same movement and measure. He liked watching her face almost as much as he liked watching her hand on him. Something was shining in her eyes and an expression of enthusiasm came onto her face.

"Little bit faster now," He breathed out and Granger quickened her movements. "Ah, there's a good girl." Draco rolled his head to the side and brushed his fingers through her hair. His muscles contracted and his chest began to rise and fall heavier as she stroked him pleasurably. The fact that Hermione Granger was sitting here, taking orders on how to properly jerk him off was perhaps that most enticing thing about this whole experience. "Tighter."

Once again Granger followed his order. He stretched his long legs out under the table and angled himself to give her more room. He could have busted right then and there, but wanted to make this last for as long as he could. He had fantasized about this girl more times than he could remember. The Mudblood who had always beat him… Draco smirked at the irony.

She glanced up at him with her tawny eyes and bit her lip. Draco's cock twitched and he almost lost control. Granger's hand stopped moving. "Keep going," Draco groaned, needing her to go back to stroking him. She started again and he rested his head back and looked over at her again. She was clearly enjoying herself. She had that lip in between her teeth again and she squirmed in her seat. She smiled as she glanced back up at him and her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

"Oh fuck," Draco muttered as he watched her pink tongue retreat back inside her sweet lips. Next time he would have that tongue running up and down his length. Next time he would have a fistful of her curls, pushing her head down onto him. Next time he would-

Draco bit back a groan as he shot himself out under the table. Granger's hand kept moving and he pushed his hips up into it, releasing a few more times before he unclenched his fists and sighed heavily. His heartbeat sounded loudly in his ears. He felt like he had drunk the whole bottle of fire whisky, not just one glass. Slowly she stopped and the world came back around them.

A quick wave of his wand and the evidence vanished. Granger pulled her hand back into her own lap as Draco fastened his trousers back up.

"Come upstairs."

"I can't," She almost sounded disappointed by this.

"Why not?" Draco frowned.

"Malfoy…" Granger sighed.

"Granger…" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"It's late. I need to get home."

"I know what you need." Draco grabbed her hip and pulled her towards him.

She took in a deep breath. "Not tonight."

Draco breathed out and pulled his hand back to where it was resting on her knee again. With the other, he downed the rest of his fire whisky.

"Drink your Butterbeer, Granger." He said. He caught the smallest of eye rolls in his peripheral vision. "It'll keep you warm and it's cold out there."


Hermione collapsed onto her bed, mind racing with wild thoughts. Never, in her whole life, had she ever done something like that. She had gone down the trapdoor, helped Harry free Sirius, and fought Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries, but she had never done that or anything close to it. Especially not with someone like Draco Malfoy.

She had done a lot of thinking over the past couple weeks at home. She had missed Harry and Ron terribly. Even though she was still angry with him, she missed Ron's friendship. He had always made her laugh at unexpected things and things with Harry just weren't the same without him around. She still didn't think she could stand to be around him and Lavender, but she hoped eventually they would work something out.

And when they did how could she ever explain what she had done with Malfoy? So she had decided to call an end to it. As much as she was attracted to him, it was not worth jeopardizing her friendships. But tonight… Godric, tonight…

He was right, after all. She did enjoy it when he told her what to do. More than enjoyed it, she reveled in it. For a few brief moments she didn't have to worry about anything, didn't have to plan, didn't have to think. Her legs had almost carried her upstairs and to his room as soon as he had mentioned it and only her quick mind had stopped her from following him past the point of no return.

Hermione bit her lip as she thought of the way he had felt in her hand; strong and thick. Without meaning to, she wondered how he would feel in her. Warmth spread down her spine and in between her legs. Clenching her thighs together, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the dark ceiling, resting her hands on her stomach, tapping her fingers against the back of her hand. The same hand that she had used on herself before.

She had laid in her bed, just like this, and when the thoughts of Malfoy wouldn't stop she had reached down, closing her eyes as she explored herself. But she had stopped when her mind suddenly took a sharp turn and she had a fleeting image of bright red hair and crystal blue eyes. Her fingers drummed against her skin and slowly turning into caresses. She ran her fingers over her stomach to the band of her knickers. If she focused, she could still feel the warmth of him against her palm

She had never done anything like what she had done tonight… And more than that, she wanted to do it again.

Hermione slid her hand underneath the band.


A/N: Lots of Draco for you in this one. I feel like it was important to set some background information on him in place. Hopefully I will be able to start updating once a week! At least that is what I am shooting for.

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