A/N: Hi everyone! Happy Monday! Just want to say thank you for all the amazing reviews you all have left me! I'm still so floored how much this had blown up and we are just barely a third of the way through! I hope you enjoy this chapter, we are working our way to the meat of the story. Only a few chapters away now. ;) Also would like to address updates may be a little slower then they had been, but I will still be posting at least one chapter a week!

Beta love to Srastrr!

Chapter Six: I need your help

Draco had knocked on the door for nearly ten minutes, though it had felt like an eternity. He had tried looking through the windows too but Hermione had sealed those as well and placed a barrier so he couldn't look in. He had tried a few spells to try and break it but even he knew Hermione's wards were too difficult for even him to thwart.

He still couldn't believe she had used the Levicorpus jinx on him. Was what he said to her really that bad? What if...

What if he had called her a Mudblood?

Sighing for the umpteenth time since he had left the Greenhouses to wander the corridors, Draco stopped at a nearby window to gaze out over the Lake. Maybe he should try to find Neville or Susan and make them talk some sense into the witch. He had tried apologizing, but she just wouldn't hear it. He felt like a complete and utter arse.

"You look rather downcast."

Draco looked over his shoulder at Remus, frowning at the man in his tattered suit. "Just enjoying the view."

Remus looked over his shoulder and out the window with a small smile. "And why would a beautiful view like this warrant a frown?"

Draco sighed, Remus Lupin was the last man on earth he wanted to share his feelings with. "What do you need, Lupin?"

Remus gave him a knowing smile and clasped his arms behind his back as he stepped next to Draco. "It's a week before the full moon."

Right, Wolfsbane Potion. "Come with me down to the classroom and I'll make you a batch." Draco led them down to the Dungeons and nodded in passing to a few Slytherins mingling in the chilled halls.

When they entered the Potions classroom, Draco set about collecting the ingredients needed. Wolfsbane, powdered silver, crushed moonstone and valerian root filled his arms. He deposited the items onto his desk to set his cauldron above the conjured fire. Remus casually sat atop one of the student's desk nearby, looking around the room with idle curiosity.

Draco added the powdered silver once the water boiled and started chopping the valerian root, eyeing Remus while he inspected the room. The werewolf met his gaze and gave him a lopsided smile.

"Sorry, it just always fascinates me how different you and Snape are. He always kept this room so dirty and cluttered. Where you and Slughorn have always kept it meticulously clean and well-organized."

Draco snorted as he dropped the bits of Valerian root one by one into the now silver liquid. "You're not the first to tell me that, but thank you. I'll take it as a compliment."

Remus nodded and leant back on his hands as he watched the bits of root splash into the liquid. "So, why so glum, Draco?"

Draco caught himself as he nearly added two chunks at once. He mumbled a swear; if he messed even one thing up he'd have to throw the lot out and start over and these ingredients weren't cheap. He shot a glare at Remus' scarred face as he continued dropping the bits in at the correct rate, "I'm not glum. I was just looking at the Lake." Even Draco could hear how pathetic that excuse sounded as he dropped the last piece into the cauldron.

"Uh-huh, right. It wouldn't have something to do with our favourite muggleborn, would it?"

Draco dropped the ash wood stirring rod he had grabbed and it clattered onto the floor loudly. "Lupin, if you're just going to distract me, get out. I can bring you your potion when it's done."

Remus let out a soft chuckle, "Sorry. I just couldn't help but notice you two haven't been on speaking terms recently and then you got completely sloshed and fell down some stairs last night... How is your head, by the way?"

Throbbing in pain? His skull felt like it was about to explode at any moment?

"Terrific," Draco mumbled out as he stirred the contents clockwise seven times. He left the potion to simmer and began measuring out exactly 225 millilitres of crushed moonstone, setting it aside in a silver cup. Remus waited patiently while Draco worked, a glint of humour in his eyes. Solely focused on his work, Draco slipped on a dragon-hide glove before unwrapping the wolfsbane, set it on his cutting board and pulled apart the leaves and flower petals.

He really did not want to have this conversation with Remus. He didn't want to have it with anyone. But his guilt was eating away at him and he needed... as much as it pained him to say, he needed help. He dropped the contents of the flower into his mortar and pestle, working it into a perfectly juiced slush before finally looking at a waiting Remus.

"Hermione just... I don't know what happened last night. I don't remember what I said or did. I just remember her looking upset and I tried talking to her earlier but she... shut me out." He pinched his lips together before he accidentally spewed out that he had been jinxed. His pride had already suffered enough bruising for one day.

"Ah, and you're afraid you called her a you-know-what?" Remus asked matter-of-factly.

Draco shot him an incredulous look. How did this man seem to know exactly what he was thinking? Well, not exactly or he'd know that the image of Hermione panting hard and pressed up against a door with her eyes full of lust had also passed through his mind.

Draco nodded mutely and added the juiced wolfsbane to the potion. It sizzled and sputtered, turning a dark blue before a rancid odour filled the room. Both he and Remus' faces screwed up in disgust and Draco began to stir, which eased the smell considerably.

"When was the last time you used that word, Draco?" The older man looked at him expectantly, like he already knew the answer.

"Not since the war."

"Have you thought of it? Said it in your head but not aloud?"

Draco frowned while he racked his memories, "No... no, I haven't."

"Then why would you think you would call her that? It doesn't sound feasible." Remus crossed his arms and sat forward with a smile.

Feasible. No, it was entirely feasible. That word may not have been used by Draco in a long time but it was still in his head. It was still in his memories of hurling it at Hermione. His rational sober mind would never use it but he didn't know what his drunken brain might do.

"She's just so mad at me. What else could I have said?"

Draco's nose crinkled at the fact he had even used that word at all. As a child, yes, he had used it as commonly as any other word but now as a teacher, he had seen what words could do. He had heard vile things spewed from the mouths of other children and he had seen the pain it had inflicted on the bearer of them. Words like that could cause wars, split families apart, and used to try to justify killing. He had seen it all and he vowed to never do so again.

The only other logical explanation would have been that he had said something equally as mean but why wouldn't she have told him?

Having stirred the cauldron in the shape of a crescent moon 10 times, he sprinkled in the moonstone and watched to make sure it melted correctly. He then waved his wand over the potion and smoke the same colour as the liquid began to emanate from it, spilling out onto the cobblestone floor.

"I think you should write to Harry."

Draco nearly dropped the vials he had grabbed from his desk. "Potter? Why the hell should I do something like that?"

"Because he's the only one that knows how to handle an upset Hermione." Remus took the offered vials once Draco had filled them with the Wolfsbane. "Plus, I can tell you like her and there's no use waiting, Draco. The war taught us all that."

He then vacated the room with his weeks worth of Wolfsbane, leaving Draco alone. The blonde wizard mulled over his words when he realized that was the first civil conversation he and Lupin had had in over four years.

It had taken two weeks for Draco's resolve to break. Two weeks of Neville and Susan being gits towards him. Two full fucking weeks of Hermione ignoring and avoiding him. He now understood why she had been so upset with him, it was driving him mental.

He had tried asking his friends to speak to Hermione for him, but they only replied with "We don't know what you said to her, but you dug your own grave." He wanted to smash his fucking head into the wall.

Draco didn't know what else to do and his irritation was reaching dangerous levels. So, he had reluctantly written to Potter.

It was a simple letter,

'Granger's mad, I need your help. When can we meet?'

Harry's reply to it had been in the same no-nonsense tone.

'Noon, Sunday at the Three Broomsticks. Try not to make it worse till then.'

With a growl at Potter's insinuation, Draco had crumbled the damned thing and threw it straight into the fire.

On Sunday, Draco dressed simply in a dark green button-down shirt and black trousers. He pulled on his thick grey peacoat and set out to Hogsmeade to meet Harry. For the end of November, the air was chilled more than it normally was. He hoped they had a strong winter, he loved the cold and the snow.

He was glad this wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend for the students, so only the shopkeepers, residents and Madam Rosmerta would bear witness to him meeting the Boy-Who-Lived. Stepping through the Three Broomsticks threshold, he immediately spied the black mop of hair at a table in the back. Rosemerta called out a greeting to him and he gave her a nod in return. He had patched things up with her once he was hired, explained as best he could why he had Imperio'd her. She thankfully understood and forgave him, another weight off his chest in his endless sea of apologies. And he no longer needed to worry about his drinks being spat in.

Rosmerta said she'd bring over the usual, but Draco cut her off to order a gillywater. As nice as a butterbeer sounded, alcohol was not his friend at the moment.

"Potter." He said in greeting, sliding into the booth's bench across from him.

"Draco," Harry said back, a smirk playing at his lips.

Draco frowned, "You know I prefer you to call me Malfoy."

"Well, I'd prefer it if you called me Harry." He leant back in his seat as Rosmerta approached with a large butterbeer for Harry and a glass of gillywater for Draco. She turned to Potter and was about to open her mouth, probably to start spewing some nonsense about the War and the saviour, but Draco cut her off.

"Thank you, Rosmerta. Please make sure no one disturbs us."

She pressed her lips together with a surprised look but nodded silently and went back to the bar.

Harry chuckled into his drink and adjusted his glasses. "Now where were we? Ah right, call me Harry and I'll call you Malfoy."

Draco set his glass back down rather roughly, some of the liquid spilling over the side to the table. "If you just came here to fucking annoy me I'll ask someone else for help."

He was seething, and Harry laughing even louder at Draco's reaction didn't help. He made to stand from the booth but before he could completely slide out, Harry placed a hand on his arm.

"Relax, will you? Merlin, Blaise warned me you get crotchety when you're mad."

Draco slid back into his seat and crossed his arms, glaring daggers at the black-haired wizard. "Blaise can fuck right off."

Harry grinned and took another sip of his butterbeer, "So, what kind of help do you need that warrants an in-person meeting? You said Hermione was mad, what did the ever-perfect Draco do now?"

Draco opened his mouth but Harry cut him off. "And just do you know, if the next words you utter are that you called her a mudblood, I will hex you."

Rage built up at the fact Harry said the exact thing Draco was worried about. "Will you shut up now so I can talk?"

He gestured for Draco to speak and sat back, butterbeer in hand.

"I got... drunk at the Halloween Feast and I don't really remember what happened." He stared at the gillywater in his glass, wishing the damned thing would just fill the room and swallow him whole. "I remember sitting at the table and needing more firewhiskey and then...nothing. Next thing I know I'm waking up in the infirmary with a splitting headache from falling down the Dungeon stairs."

He shot a glare to the raven-haired boy when he let out a chuckle but continued. "Longbottom said I left the hall and Granger followed after me. I tried to talk to her but she was extremely angry with me. She won't tell me what happened or what I said and she's been ignoring me since."

A few details may have been left out, like her hexing him or the fact the reason he was avoiding her was because of the dirty dreams he was having, but no one needed to know about any of that. Least of all Harry Potter.

Harry sighed wistfully into his now empty glass. "This is too good. I can't wait to go home and tell Blaise all of this. Draco Malfoy needing my help, because he pissed off my best friend. It's too perfect."

His grin had Draco livid and his words came out like fiend fire as he spat them out. "I swear on every dead family member I have, I will tell Blaise every single dirty secret I've learned about you over the years. If I recall correctly, there was a small period of time between Ginny and Blaise where you were trying to get into Marcus Flint's trousers..."

Draco smirked triumphantly as Harry's face heated at his words and he mumbled out a "Never getting sloshed around you again."

Harry pouted and ran his hand through his permanently messy hair. "Hermione has a... thing."

"A thing?" Draco looked at him like he had three heads.

"Yeah, a thing."

"What the bloody fuck does that mean, Potter?"

Harry snorted, "You know I'm breaking about a million best friend rules by telling you this."

"Do I look like I care?"

"She likes you."

The floor fell out suddenly from underneath him. Draco's mind was reeling as he tried to process his words. Potter must have been joking, or he meant something else. She liked him as a friend, sure. That had to have been it but Draco needed clarity. "Excuse me?"

Harry pressed on as if he hadn't heard him. "Ever since you stole her shoes, apparently. Which was really weird. Do you have a shoe fetish or something?"

Draco tried to speak over Harry but his words got lodged in his throat at that question. Harry looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer that Draco was certainly never going to give. So he went a safer route. "What do you mean she likes me?"

Harry gave him a pointed look as if to say they would come back to the shoe fetish but he answered. "Listen, I'm only telling you this because I know she's never going to say anything, and by the way you're acting, you weren't planning on it either.

"She came over one night after her birthday, freaking out because you guys were becoming friends. That you liked Hagrid and were best friends with Neville and Susan, that you stole her shoes and made a weird comment and the only thing she could think of was shagging you against a desk. Which was really gross to listen to, by the way. Do you need me to go on?"

No, no he definitely did not need Harry to go on. She was thinking of shagging him against a desk?

Hermione Granger. Prissy little know-it-all. The reason Draco couldn't sleep. She wanted to fuck him? Against a desk? The very idea made him turn rock hard in his trousers right there in the middle of the pub.

Draco couldn't believe it, surely Harry was just having a go at him in retaliation for threatening to tell Blaise about Marcus. "You're lying."

Harry grimaced, "Nope. She was in quite a state of panic, just so you know. But Blaise and I helped work out her thoughts and-" Harry sighed dramatically. "She fancies you, though I think it surprised her."

Draco's entire body felt like it was floating. The woman that had been invading nearly every waking and subconscious thought fancied him.

And she was currently extremely angry with him to the point of avoidance.

"Fuck." Draco leant forward and rubbed his hand over his face. "So what do I do?"

"There's only one thing to do when you like a girl like Hermione and she's mad at you," Harry said matter-of-factly. "You have to leave her alone until she approaches you. If you try to confront her she'll just get defensive and it'll make it worse." Harry paused, "Either that, or she'll curse you into next semester."

Draco arched a brow, "So I just... do nothing? That's your sage advice?"

"Yup. Play the victim card, 'Woah is me' really milk it. You're good at that."

Draco glared at the Boy-Who-Lived, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Why the fuck had he asked for his help again? At least one good thing came from it.

He now knew Hermione wanted him as badly as he did her. The only question remaining was, what did he do with this information?

Draco couldn't stand it anymore. It had been a week since he got Harry's completely unhelpful advice, which meant another week of being ignored. He thought knowing that she wanted him would set his mind at ease, but it only made his dreams intensify.

Which meant every little thing she did made his blood pump harder and his cock twitch with desire.

Hermione had left the minute he sat at the table for dinner that night. He would have been angry, except he got to watch the way her bum jiggled ever so slightly in her tight cream-coloured jumper dress as she walked. His eyes flickered down to find a pair of burgundy over-the-knee heeled boots, leaving only a sliver of thigh exposed between them and the dress. He watched that offending piece of flesh as she rounded the corner out of sight and he took a deep breath trying to calm the hard-on rising under the table.

He couldn't do this anymore. He had to talk to her, he needed to hear it from her mouth that she wanted him or he was going to go absolutely insane from want.

Fuck.

He glanced at Professor Vector and cleared his throat. "Vector, did Granger say where she was going? I have something I need to discuss with her but she left before I could." Well, at least it wasn't a lie.

"Oh, I believe the library. She's always coming and going from there you know-"

Draco had stood, cutting Vector off from any further conversation and he all but ran out of the hall, not even bothering to tell Neville and Susan where he was going. He was glad he hadn't eaten anything, because his stomach was a bundle of nerves as he came upon the Library doors a few minutes later. He silently stepped through and found the main room empty, even Madame Pince was missing.

Now he just needed to find Hermione.

He walked through the empty stacks and found her in the last row, all the way in the back. She was sitting in one of the many wooden chairs, reading a large tome spread out on the desk before her that he couldn't give a fig what the subject was. His heart was pounding in his ears and his mouth had gone completely dry as he stepped into the row.

Hermione's eyes shot to his and his steps faltered.

She shut the tome with a loud thump and pressed her pink painted lips together. "Malfoy, what are you doing here? Did you follow me?"

Yes.

"No. I just..." Fuck, everything he had wanted to say to her left his head the instant her liquid honey eyes met his. He had thought he would create this long flourishing speech but her searing look made his head clear completely. Or maybe it was the way she chewed on her bottom lip. "I just... wanted to talk."

Well, at least he had managed to say something.

She stood from the chair with a pinched expression. "I have nothing to say to you."

She stepped up to walk past him, but Draco was blocking the only exit. She arched a brow that suggested danger should he try to stop her but he didn't care. He had to talk to her.

"Potter told me not to do this but I'm sick of being ignored. I'm sorry for whatever it was I said. I'm sorry if I called you a m-mudblood." He stumbled over the word, so unused to saying it.

Hermione's mouth popped open and she took a few steps back from him. "What do you mean, Potter told you not to? You spoke to Harry?" She seemed completely uninterested in the fact he had apologized or that he had said mudblood.

"I didn't know what to do! Lupin suggested-"

"You spoke to Lupin about this?!" Hermione's voice sounded shrill with mortification.

Draco looked at her with furrowed brows, what was the issue? If anyone should be embarrassed it should be him for having to go to two bloody Gryffindors for help.

"I don't know what this is! I don't remember what I said to you, Hermione! I only remember you looking upset and I'm worried I called you a mudblood or something equally worse or-"

"Oh for Merlin's sake! You didn't call me a damned mudblood alright?!" Hermione yelled over top of him and they both fell silent, their chests heaving for breath. Draco looked at her with wide-eyes and she looked to the floor with reddened cheeks.

"You-you told me you..." She took a deep breath, obviously trying to work up the nerve to say whatever other horrible thing he had told her. "You told me you wanted to ravish me in every pair of heels I own." Her voice had gone quiet as she spoke and her face was now the colour of a ripe tomato.

Draco recalled the other image he had remembered from that night. It wasn't a dream after all. Hermione really had been pressed against the Dungeon door with lust-filled eyes.

"Wait a minute." He was trying hard to grasp at his train of thought. "You were mad at me... Because I told you I wanted to fuck you?"

Hermione refused to meet his eyes, boring a hole into the floor. Draco took a step towards her but she stepped back.

Oh, no. She was going to look at him and explain this.

He continued to step towards her as she retreated until her back was pressed against the shelves, and her breath started to come out erratically. He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him, their faces only a few inches apart. He placed his other hand on the shelf above her, trapping her to him.

"Answer the question." He whispered firmly. He could feel the vein in his neck throbbing as he watched her throat bob with a dry swallow.

Hermione looked everywhere but his eyes as she spoke. "I wasn't mad at you because of that. I-I was mad because you didn't remember, which was my own fault really after I cursed you and you hit your head-"

Draco blinked. "Hold on. You cursed me?" Even as he said the words another image of flashing orange light and the world turning upside down passed through his mind. He let go of her face and stared down at her incredulously.

"I'm sorry! I was just... I was taken by surprise and you were drunk and I made sure you were okay. I was going to take you to the infirmary myself but then I heard the Bloody Baron yelling at Peeves so I-I ran and - Draco I'm so sorry."

He really didn't know what to say. He had been cursed and jinxed by this witch in less than 24 hours. Hermione placed a hand on his chest, bringing his attention back to her. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes but all Draco wanted to do was laugh. He felt relief swell in his chest. He hadn't called her a mudblood.

"Wait, so you weren't mad at me because I told you I wanted to fuck you. You were mad because I didn't remember? You ignored me for three fucking weeks because of that?!"

Hermione blinked the tears away at his words and she squirmed angrily beneath his stare. "Well, it's not like you were any better! You ignored me too! And I don't even know why!"

Draco dropped his voice low and slowly pressed his body to hers, bending down to whisper into her ear. "I ignored you, witch, because I've not stopped dreaming of you for weeks. I wake up - Every. Single. Morning. And wank off to the thought of you doing all kinds of dirty things to me."

He felt Hermione shiver at his words and she let out an audible breathy, "Oh."

"I was keeping my distance because I was convinced I was the last man on Earth you would ever want. Until I spoke to Potter."

She went suddenly rigid beneath him. "I-I don't-"

"Potter told me all about how to want to fuck me against a desk. Is that true, Hermione? Do you want me to perch on the edge of that desk over there and let you ride my cock?"

His length twitched in his pants when Hermione let out a small whimper at his words. He felt a sense of satisfaction at her obvious uneasiness. Good, she deserved it for the torture she had put him through this past month.

Draco inched closer to her face until they were only a breath apart. The familiar scent of honeysuckle and vanilla filled his nostrils, daring him to close the distance. He whispered into the small space between them, giving her the only way out he would allow.

"Tell me to stop."

She said nothing, and it was all the confirmation he needed.

He closed the distance to capture her pretty pink painted lips with his own. He hoped her lipstick stained his skin and marked him permanently. He could feel her soft, warm body press back for a moment before she pulled away with a pop!

He could still feel her pressed against him when she slapped him hard across the face. He could still feel her when she ran from the Library, mortification evident in her features.

Fuck, he could even still feel her later that night as Draco laid in bed and pleasured himself to the thought of her riding him on that damned desk. He laid there panting and formulated his plan. Hermione Granger wanted him, and he was sure as hell going to have her.

He just had to make her want it so bad she'd beg for it.