As always, a big thank you to my gorgeous beta, MissyJAnne85. Honestly guys, she ripped me a new one with this chapter. I wasn't feeling it with the first draft, but she swooped in, tore it to shreds, made me work for it & now it's a thousand times better because of her. Thank you SO much, my love!

We will see some more smut & angst in this chapter, but no real trigger warnings that I can think of. If you see something that I'm not aware of, PLEASE let me know! This is not my area of expertise, so I apologise if anything is triggering for you.

As always, you can find the Spotify playlist here updated with this weeks songs. Songs are credited in the end notes.

To say that Hermione was happy with her new routine would be an understatement. She felt fulfilled in every aspect of her life. She was happy, and alive, and cared for. Draco really was a most gracious lover, always making sure she was comfortable and enjoying herself. If you had told Hermione two years ago that she would be falling in love with Draco Malfoy, she'd have laughed you out of the room. Now, however, she couldn't believe that she'd never even noticed him before - past transgressions aside.

Ginny and Luna had been unbelievably supportive of the idea, which was sort of a surprise to Hermione - if she was honest. She supposed that other than in her first year, Draco had never really been outwardly nasty to Ginny. Also, there was the fact that Ginny found him outrageously attractive. That seemed to account for more than it probably should, although Hermione did not disagree. Luna, on the other hand, was a little more mysterious. Perhaps he had been kind to her while she was locked away in the Malfoy dungeons. She would have to ask Luna, there was no way Draco would admit to any such goodness - convinced as he was that he was the opposite. Hermione could hardly believe her luck at having two such incredible friends.

However, Christmas was fast approaching, and Harry's invitation to spend the holidays back at Grimmauld Place was haunting her. Had she moved on from Ron? The answer was a resounding 'yes'. In actual fact, she was no longer sure that she had ever been truly in love with him in the first place. She had thought herself in love with him at the time, and her feelings had been genuine. Ron had been a wonderful first love, but she knew now that it wasn't true love. The magnetism she felt whenever she was around Draco, how her senses would come alive, how she could let herself drift when she was with him - she didn't always need to be switched on, alert. She could be comfortable in his presence. If this was how she felt about Draco after such a short time together... Well. She knew that what she had with Ron could not compare to her feelings for Draco.

Was she ready to forgive Ron? Well, that was an entirely different question and one she wasn't sure how to answer. Perhaps she could spend the holiday break with her parents, tell them about her new boyfriend, show them how happy she was. Maybe the three of them could join Harry and the Weasley's at Grimmauld Place for Christmas Day. That would be a nice compromise. She would write to Harry and suggest it before broaching it with her parents. She'd have to figure out a way to keep her parents from asking anyone about Draco, but that was no matter. She'd think of something, she always did.

They were in her bedroom this morning, and Hermione couldn't help but notice how normal it felt to wake up beside him every day. To snuggle into his warmth and run her fingers over the abs she still couldn't take her eyes off of. To feel him twitch beneath her, next to her, into her side as he slowly woke. It had been intoxicating in its familiarity.

She was going to miss him when they went their separate ways during the holidays, but today it was Saturday, and they didn't have anywhere they needed to be for a while. She could snuggle for a little longer.

Hermione dozed off and woke up an hour later to an empty bed, the sheets still warm where Draco had been. She rolled out of bed, slipped her bathrobe on, and padded downstairs to find him. Rather than climbing his stairs, she stood in the common room, and raised her wand, incanting "Homenum Revelio". When nothing happened, she widened her search to the Prefect's Bathroom.

She found him sitting on the edge of the giant bath, playing with the scent nozzles while it filled. "Good morning," she smiled at him as she made her way across the tiles.

"Morning, Granger. Should I add some jasmine to the vetiver?"

"Mmm," she sighed, happily. "Yes, please."

Vetiver, she thought. So that was the other scent she associated with Draco. Now that she had her answer, images of forests in the dead of summer and old leather-bound books sprang to mind. It was the final puzzle piece, her Amortentia scent profile now complete. She didn't need to brew the potion to know it for sure, she could feel it within her very soul. The two scents mixed and rose with the steam from the hot water. It was delicious and heady, intoxicating in its perfection.

The bath was filling quickly now, and he pulled his legs out from the side and started to undress. Even though Hermione had seen him naked countless times already, there was something so much more intimate about baring your body to someone when there was no sexual agenda. Domestic, that was the word for it, she decided as she too shucked off her pyjamas.

Draco took a running start and dived gracefully into the water. Hermione rolled her eyes. He was still such a show-off sometimes. She sat on the edge of the bath and lowered herself down into the warm suds. The mix of their two scents comforted her in a way that she didn't know she needed. She swam through the water until she came to the shampoo station and washed her hair, watching Draco make laps of the pool. He was a very good swimmer, which shouldn't surprise her. He was lithe, quick and toned. Athleticism came naturally to him, it would seem.

She continued to watch him while she washed her hair, her thoughts running in a hundred different directions. He disappeared under the water for a few moments and popped back up - right in front of her. "Oh," Hermione said, startled.

"What are you thinking about, Granger? You're a hundred miles away," He said, pumping the nozzle for the shampoo of his choice. Hermione watched the suds drip from his hair, over his shoulders and down his chest.

"Hmm?"

"What are you thinking about?" He asked again, a wry smile on his face.

"Oh, erm. Let me see. Our last charms class, when I can next get to the library, and what lunch will be served today."

"Anything else?" He quirked an eyebrow. This was something that had recently started to grow on her - rather rapidly in fact.

"No, nothing else comes immediately to mind," she said, a coy grin on her face. She turned away from him to her favourite soap dispenser, lathered it and ran her hands over each arm and then her breasts.

Draco watched her cover her body with suds, his eyes growing dark. He was particularly interested in following the soapy track running between her tits and down just a little further, where the water caught it. Abruptly, she ducked her head under the water and swam over to the stairs. Sitting on the second from the top, Hermione beckoned to him. He swam over to her without a second's hesitation. Draco reached the stairs and came to a stop as she dipped her hand under the water, inserted a finger between her folds, brought it up to her mouth and sucked on it. "I'm a sucker for you," she said, lowering her eyelashes flirtatiously.

Draco growled as he pulled her to him, and attached his mouth to her throat. With one hand holding her to him, he used the other to palm her breast. She redirected his hand to her face, took his index and middle fingers into her mouth, and sucked on them. Hard. Draco jerked against her and immediately released his hold on her neck. "Morgana, I'm feeling heat in December when you're around me," Hermione whispered into his ear.

"Fuck me," he snarled.

"I intend to," she lowered her eyes and her voice. Feeling his cock jump against her stomach, she cupped his balls with one hand and stroked his long, thick length with the other. "How would you like me, Mr Malfoy?" She fluttered her eyelashes innocently at him.

"Exactly as you are, and not any other way," he said before meeting her lips with his.

Hermione had a brief moment to be surprised by the loving comment, before the heat of his kiss burned through her, distracting all other thoughts but her need for him.

He climbed the stairs and hoisted her out of the bath like she weighed nothing, setting her naked arse on the cold tiles. Her protest was lost in her throat when he spread her legs wide, held them apart, and darted his head in between her thighs. Suddenly the cool tiles were welcome as she dug her hands into his hair and held him to her.

Hermione's nerves were coming alive. Draco was slowly licking his way around her, and then speeding up, only to slow down and blow lungfuls of cool air over the most sensitive of areas. He seemed to take great pleasure in having her writhe beneath him, digging her nails into his scalp in a way that should have been painful. The feel of his grin and the gentle scrape of his teeth against her clit had her almost coming undone, pressure building delightfully inside her.

"Draco, I'm going to -" Not come, she finished in her head. He'd pulled his face away from her throbbing, needy and dripping core. He was staring up at her. Her hands were still fisted in his hair as she watched his face flicker through his changing emotions. "What is it?" She asked, the fire in her veins dying.

"You called me 'Draco'," he said, voice hoarse.

"It's your name," she said, cocking her head to the side.

"Yes, but-" he didn't finish his sentence, just pulled her back into the warm water, to the left side of the stairs. He braced her against the side of the bath. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her like he was a dying man, and her lips were the fountain of life. Eventually, he pulled away and rested his forehead on hers. "Granger, I -"

"Yes?"

"I- you're the fucking potion and the pain. A tattoo inside my bleeding brain," he said, shaking his head.

Hermione bit her lip. She wanted him to keep talking. She had a feeling that he was about to say something very, very important. But he was gripping her tightly and slipping inside her. Slowly filling her with all that he wouldn't say. She wondered when - or if - her body would ever be used to him. If she would ever adjust to him immediately without the deliciously painful stretch. Even with those thoughts in her head, she was lost to the feeling of all-encompassing pleasure as he finally bottomed out, filling her completely.

Draco's thrusts were slow, deep, and the push and pull on her centre was potently heady. The water lapped around them as they moved in sync with one another. With her back against the wall, he still clung to her like she was a lifeboat in the middle of a stormy sea. Hermione ran soothing strokes through his hair as she cradled his head to her chest. This wasn't just sex and fucking anymore. This was making love, and even if he wouldn't say the words yet, she could feel them.

His breathing became erratic, and his drive less rhythmic. Ravaging her faster and creating more friction for Hermione's sex to cling to, her body coiling tighter as he pounded harder still, pulling her body down to meet each thrust. Just as she reached climax and clenched around him, Draco stuttered to a stop, plunging once, twice more into her, and loosening his grip on her shoulders, but keeping her clamped tightly to him.

Breathlessly, she whispered in his ear, "I'm a sucker for all the subliminal things no one knows about you," she attempted a smirk, watching him come down from the high when he gently pulled away. "You're making me break all of my typical rules. Only a few short months ago, I swore I'd never share bathwater with you and now look at me." She shook her head slowly, a smile spreading across her face. "Wonders will never cease."

Draco watched her for a moment, freshly fucked and full of him. Wet hair and a sexy grin. All mine, he thought, bringing her in for another kiss.


Deliciously sore, Hermione slid in between Pavarti and Ginny at the Gryffindor table, halfway through the lunch hour.

"You look happy, Hermione!" Pavarti said as she watched Hermione scoop some mashed potatoes and beef stew into her bowl. She was ravenous.

Hermione tried and failed to wipe the grin off of her face.

"Yeah, Hermione," Ginny beamed, knowingly. "Very happy. Had a good morning, have you?"

"Just a really good sleep in," Hermione responded, eyes dancing.

Parvati looked from Ginny to Hermione, and back again with a shrug, accepting their personal joke for what it was.

"What are your plans for the holidays, Hermione?" Parvati asked her.

"I'm not actually sure, yet," Hermione said, her smile faltering. "Harry wants me to come and stay, but Ron lives with him, and well, I haven't quite forgiven him, you see. What about you, Parvati?"

"We're planning a family trip back to India to see all of our extended family. It's very exciting, actually. We haven't been since we were kids!"

"That's amazing, Parvati! I hope you'll have a fantastic time. You will have to write and tell us all about it! I'm absolutely fascinated with India and its culture! What about you, Ginny? What are you going to do?" Hermione turned to face her.

"I was hoping to spend most of the holidays with Harry, but it'll be a fair bit harder to get away with if you're not there as well. I'm actually starting to consider telling mum and dad the truth. You know, sitting them down over a cuppa. "Dad, Mum," Ginny turned to look at Parvati and Hermione in kind as if she were talking to her parents. "You know Harry and I have been together for a while now, yes? Well, you see, we've had sex several times, and well, I'd like to keep on having it. The sex, that is. Orgasms are pure bliss. Why didn't you ever tell me that's why I have so many brothers? Anyway, staying at home over the holidays would kind of get in the way of my plans to get laid. Savvy?" Hermione spat her drink out onto the table and laughed. Parvati took the matter slightly more seriously.

"Harry Potter? Sex? With my little girl? Took your virginity, did he? I'll kill him! I don't care if he saved the world, I'll kill him!" Parvati managed to mimic Arthur Weasley very well for someone with precious few interactions with the man under her belt.

With a grin on her face, Ginny responded. "You can't kill him, Dad! They'll throw you in Azkaban!"

"Don't you try and stop me!" Parvati slammed her hands on the table and stood abruptly. All three girls collapsed into peals of laughter. Wiping the moisture from her eyes, Hermione turned to Ginny and said, "Good luck with that!"


Returning to the dormitory, Hermione found Draco lounging on their favourite sofa, a tumbler of Firewhisky in one hand and a thick, white roll of parchment in the other. A small fire was burning in the fireplace, the wireless was on, and he was watching her with a curious look in his eye.

"What is it?" She asked, walking towards him.

He shook his head by way of response and patted the cushion next to him, indicating for her to take a seat. Once she was settled in, close to his side, he handed her the white scroll.

"I have been instructed to hand-deliver this to you," he said with a wince. It was thick, velvety, trimmed in gold leaf, and very expensive. The black ribbon that held it together disappeared when she touched it, little red sparks sizzling through the air in its place. Hermione looked up at Draco apprehensively as she unrolled it. The parchment shimmered in red and a thick black, elegant script depicted an invitation.

Dear Miss Hermione Jean Granger,

Narcissa Malfoy and her son, Draco Malfoy

Request the pleasure of your company

At their annual Black, White and Red New Years Eve Gala

Friday the 31st of December 1999

From 8 o'clock in the evening

At the Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire

Formal attire in black, white or red is required

We look forward to the pleasure of your company

Hermione read the invitation, looked up at Draco, and then back to the invitation. "You're having a party, and you're inviting me?" She asked, nervously. Had he told his mother about them? Is that why she was holding the elaborate invitation in her Muggle-born hand?

"My mother is having a party. She just likes to put my name on the invitations. You'll notice that my father's name is mysteriously absent. Not that anyone cares about him, anyway" Draco drawled.

"But - she's invited me. Why?"

"I believe she has invited almost everyone who has good standing in our community. Potter and the Weasels, too. Most definitely Potter. We have thrown this party almost every damn year. Apparently, it's a Malfoy tradition now. Maybe this year, I'll actually have something to look forward to - if you agree to come, that is." He raised his left eyebrow, sending a swoop of desire through her. Damn, he was sexy.

Hermione wasn't sure what to think. The invitation was from Narcissa, who apparently wanted to be seen doing the right thing. The invitation was not from Draco. Yet, he was telling her that he'd like her to attend.

"As," she licked her lips apprehensively. "As your date?"

"Perhaps as my unofficial date. You would know it, I would know it. She-Weasel could know it if you like, but it would have to stop there, Granger. No one else could know, or suspect it. My mother may have invited upstanding citizens, but you can bet your last Galleon that there will be less than desirable guests, also. My father's influence and money still fill pockets. There are wizards and witches you'd never guess at being corrupt. That is a hazard of being a Malfoy and associated with my father."

"Oh," she replied quietly. She was disappointed even though she had tried not to get her hopes up. Draco set aside his Firewhisky and pulled her onto his lap.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. That is just how it has to be. Hopefully not forever, but it is for now."

The rush of blood to her head was dizzying. He'd just called her by her first name! She suddenly understood his reaction that morning when she had said his. It was inebriating. She sucked in a deep breath. "Say it again!"

When she looked at his face, his eyes were a dance of solid silver, and his grin was genuine. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Say it again," she pleaded, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

He leaned in close to her. "Hermione," he whispered, breath tickling her ear. He nuzzled at her neck, and she was nearly lost in the sensation of it. The combination with the lust he evoked by simply saying her name, but she pulled herself away. She wasn't finished talking just yet.

"You say my name like I've never heard before. I'm rarely indecisive, but this time I know for sure," she raked her hands through her curls and pushed up from the sofa. He watched her curiously as she stood to address him. "Merlin, Malfoy!" She could feel her vulnerability building, her defence mechanisms sliding into place - a symptom of being scared. "Tell me I'm not alone in this. Tell me I'm not the only one feeling it all." Her eyes were glistening with sudden emotion. Despite what she had thought just that morning, she needed to say it and to hear him say it. Keeping their relationship a secret was fun in one way, but painful in others. She needed assurance.

His eyes stopped dancing and narrowed in on hers. "Granger - Hermione. You're always at the centre of my attention. Have been for far longer than I'd care to admit. You can get whatever you want from me, whenever you want it. Haven't you realised this, yet?"

"Apparently I can have anything I want, but not the few things I need. Bloody hell, Malfoy. Do I need to spell this out for you? When I look in the mirror, it's you in my reflection. I - I'm afraid of all the things that can do to me."

"Merlin's fucking bloody ball sack, Granger. We can't just share a nice moment, can we? Have to make it something bigger, something more !" He picked the tumbler back up, swallowed its contents in one, and slammed it back on the table. Hermione flinched at the sound. "I wonder sometimes when you're gone - if I stay on your mind," he paused to look at her - to let her look at him. "I think, well, two of us can play that game, but when I'm honest - you'll win every single fucking time." He stood abruptly and began to traverse back and forth in front of the fireplace.

He heard her sharp intake of breath and spared her a glance. The tears glistening in her eyes hurt him deeply, but he was too far gone in his rage to react the way he knew he should. Her damn bleeding Gryffindor heart was showing again. Needing him to say things they both knew he felt, but still couldn't bring himself to speak. Once he'd said them, there'd be no taking them back - not for either of them. This witch knew how to push his buttons. The good - and the bad ones.

"Malfoy, I -" she stopped. Tried again, "Everyone before you was a waste of time. You -," she wiped the tears from her eyes. "You've got me."

"I shouldn't have come back to this forsaken place," Draco snarled. "I should have stayed at home, where I was better off alone! But then you had to go and be all polite, and say 'hello' and asking me to fucking kiss you in front of Weasley, even though I had pulled away! I knew then that it was the end of it all. No more hiding my feelings away, hoping to spare us both from all of this shit. I'm fucking in love with you, Granger. Is that what you wanted to hear?" He had stopped pacing, but fear and anger rolled off of him in waves that she could feel. His magic practically crackling to life around him as his chest heaved. "I've been in love with you for fucking years, and now you know. You've heard me say the words. Are you happy now?" Not waiting to hear her answer, he turned away and fled to his room, long cloak billowing in his stead.

Hermione's legs buckled beneath her. Yes, she thought. It is what I wanted to hear. But no, not like that. Morgana help me - am I falling in love with the one that will break my heart for good? Draco Malfoy was damaged. Hermione knew this because so was she. The war had changed her in ways she didn't always recognise, but she was healing, and she was healing faster in his arms. Maybe he was right all those weeks ago. Maybe he was every kind of wrong for her.

Draco was angry, violent, and often unpredictable. He was also scared. Scared of her - and of things unknown to her. And when Draco Malfoy was scared, he was defensive. She made a mental list of the things she knew. While his words had stung her, she knew they cut him deeper. She also knew that healing was a process that worked differently for everybody. Another thing that she knew was that he would never hurt her with anything harder or sharper than his tongue. But words, she knew - still cut deep.

Hermione wasn't sure how long she had stayed on the ground sifting through her thoughts and drying her tears. Eventually, she lifted herself off the floor and walked steadily and with purpose to his bedroom. Maybe she was a glutton for punishment. Maybe she just needed him to hear her say it back.

All of Draco's lights were off, but his door opened under her light touch. He hadn't locked her out, then. He was lying on his side, unmoving. Hermione removed her clothing and hung it over the back of a chair. Picking one of his Quidditch shirts from his dresser, she pulled it on over her head and slipped into bed with him. Draco kept his back to her but relaxed as she spooned him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered so quietly she barely heard him.

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry, too. For making you say things you weren't ready to say."

"You misunderstand me, Granger. I've been ready to say them for a lot longer than you can guess. I haven't said them because I still don't see a way where we can make this work long term. We're safe here, in this little bubble we have. We're away from prying eyes. But out there, in the real world, people won't accept this. I don't want to make promises to you that I can't keep."

"We'll figure it out," she said, kissing his shoulder. "And Malfoy?"

"Yes, Granger?"

"I love you, too."

He didn't move for several precious moments, perhaps he had fallen asleep and hadn't heard her. "Draco?" She tried again. "I'm in love with you."

Slowly, he turned over and looked at her. Searching her eyes for something she wasn't sure of. Then he kissed her. It was beautiful in its apology, passionate in its quiet need, loving in its un-hurried desire, and exquisite in its tenderness.

He broke away, and pulled her closer to his side and rested his head on top of hers. They fell asleep locked in each other's embrace, their hearts beating as one.

Sucker - The Jonas Brothers

Break My Heart - Dua Lipa