A/N: Hi! Sorry this is later than normal, I'm considered an "essential employee" so my work has been a bit hectic. Hope you are all staying happy and healthy!

Serious beta love to Mrs_Poncey! Her edits were crazy meticulous and really helped me transform this chapter. Enjoy :*

Chapter Seven: This isn't over

Draco awoke the next day with a spring in his step. It stayed with him even at Hermione's absence from breakfast, and the start of his Advanced Potions class that day.

The students enrolled in the class, milled about as they worked on their Hiccoughing Solution. Standing behind his desk, Draco cleared his throat, and his students gradually turned their attention from their potions to him. He held up the blacked-out bottle of Pompion Potion he had made at the beginning of the year, feeling it was time to use it. He knew the class would have been suspicious had he offered it at the start of the year as he did with first-years. So he had waited, and in being in such a good mood, decided now was the perfect moment.

"Today, I have an opportunity for someone—," Draco paused, and let his gaze trail the faces in the room, "to earn fifty house points." A buzz of excited chatter filled the air. "Attention. Now I won't tell you what this potion is, but whoever drinks it—and can tell me the name, will earn House points, personal bragging rights, and even get a free pass on today's homework assignment"

He set the bottle down on his desk and waited as the students talked amongst themselves. He, like Slughorn, accepted Exceeds Expectations O.W.L. students in Advanced Potions, meaning this class was rather large. Twenty students filled the desks, half of them Slytherins, the other Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and one—Hermione Granger know-it-all type, Gryffindor.

Of course, it was she who raised their hand.

"Sir," Mattie Quinn, the bookish Gryffindor piped up from her front-seat desk. "I'd like to drink it."

The other professors had expected him to be annoyed to have a walking textbook student—since they knew of his constant annoyance of Hermione in their school days. But Draco didn't mind; in fact, he was rather fond of Quinn. It was nice to know he'd always have someone to answer all of his questions correctly or turn in impeccable homework.

Draco swirled the bottle around in his hand, looking amused. "Are you sure, Miss Quinn? You could end up babbling nonsense for the next two hours or forget everything you've learned today. Do you really want to risk it?"

A vigorous nod made her straight black hair billow around her like ink in water. Draco walked to her desk, placed the bottle on it, and stepped back with a smirk. With a deep breath, Quinn reached for the potion. She exhaled slowly, uncorked the bottle, and sniffed it before downing its content in one go.

"It's Pompion potion, Sir." She said, placing the bottle down. Realization dawned on her face, and her eyes widened whilst the whole class burst into excited laughter. Quinn's face turned a ghastly shade of orange as her head started to swell. Not a minute had passed before her head transformed into a large pumpkin. The front was carved to show eyes and a mouth, while her black hair twisted together on the top to form a stem. She reached a hand up to her cheek as she began to topple forwards to adjust to the new weight of her over-large head. Mattie's carved mouth opened, in what Draco assumed was shock, when her hand came in contact with the smooth surface of a pumpkin instead of skin.

Draco chuckled lightly "Fifty points to Gryffindor for drinking that, Miss Quinn, and another twenty for your ability to identify by taste."

Her voice came out echoey as if she was speaking from inside a cave. "How long will this last, Sir?"

Draco smirked, "It'll slowly start to wear off, your head will be back to normal by lunch."

She looked up at him and nodded, though her head still tipped forward too much from its new weight. Mattie's attention was pulled away by students that came up to bombard her with questions.

"What does it feel like?"

"Is your head really heavy?"

"Can you still see?"

"I love this class, Professor Malfoy is so sound."

That last comment made pride swell in his chest as Draco returned to his desk. He worked hard to make Potions fun for his students, and to hear them say they loved it made everything he slaved over since the war ended worth it.

After a few moments, the students returned to their potions and continued in relative peace. Though, he chuckled to himself a few times when Mattie's head would become too heavy and swayed over her cauldron. It was one of the best classes he had so far that year, the joy from his students filled the room and it warmed the frigid Dungeon air.

His students said goodbye as they swapped with his next class of second-year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws. The younger students laughed at the sight of Mattie's large pumpkin head. He started with the instructions on how to brew a Swelling Solution, and helped them retrieve the ingredients. Once they had all begun to brew and follow the proper recipe in their textbooks, Draco retreated to his desk to grade papers.

"I can't believe Professor Granger gave us so much homework. D'you think she's okay? She seemed really out of it this morning." He heard Hufflepuff, Kate Dennett, pipe up to her partner, Wren Poults.

"I know," Wren replied. "She just kept staring off and didn't even notice I turned my beetle into a zipper instead of a button."

Well, that was an interesting piece of news. Hermione so distracted it was affecting her teaching? How curious.

Draco stared at the paper before him, barely registering a word written on it as he thought of last night. As much as he tried to will it away, he couldn't deny the slight hardening in his trousers as he recalled the sting of the slap. He enjoyed a bit of pain with pleasure, and it had encased his fantasies last night when he had succumbed to his self-indulgence. He was sure if she hadn't slapped him he would've taken her against the shelves. She had made no protest when he gave her a way out. She never uttered the one word that would have had him retreating from her: stop.

No, instead all she had done was whimper beneath him, and smack him across the face when he kissed her. Even though it had been brief, he still felt her lips on his. So soft, sweet, and so perfect.

He still couldn't comprehend that she fancied him, but wasn't about to question his luck. Quite the contrary, he was going to drown in it. She never stopped him, which only made Draco believe she had to want him. The slap had been from... surprise maybe? That he had kissed her so openly? He hoped she didn't require permission to be asked for every little thing; because Draco Malfoy did not ask. No, when it came to pleasure, Draco Malfoy took what he wanted.

And he wanted Hermione Granger.

The sound of breaking glass pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up to find Wren at the supplies cabinet at the far wall of the room, holding a lone bottle of puffer-fish eyes, and surrounded by various broken bottles at his feet. He looked over to Draco with wide, fearful eyes.

Draco stood and flicked his wand to clear away the mess. Taking a deep breath to quiet his rage, he discovered the fallen shelf was due to a broken arm bracket and not to Wren being a bumbling buffoon.

The Hufflepuff stammered out an apology but Draco held up a hand to silence him as he took stock of what he had lost. A few bottles of nettle, a container of puffer-fish eyes and a jar of bat spleens were lost, and Draco was thankful this was not a shelf with any expensive ingredients.

"It's not your fault, Mr Poults," said Draco, when the boy tried to give another apology. "Nothing to be done with a broken shelf bracket. Please go back to your potion."

The boy retreated with a red-face, and Draco cast a few charms to repair the arm. He walked back to his desk and sighed as he sat. Hermione was proving to be quite the distraction.

He couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

Draco made his way to the Great Hall that night for dinner. The oddest feeling of disappointment turned his stomach when Hermione was absent from the meal. Since hearing that she had been distracted in her classes, Draco found himself becoming the same way. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering to last night in the library, or day-dreaming about what he wished he'd done to her.

Absent-mindedly, he picked at the food on his plate, not having a taste for it. Neville spoke in his ear about something or another but Draco tuned him out.

A hard poke to his shoulder pulled him from his musings and Draco glared at the Herbologist.

"You alright, Draco? You seem awfully distracted." Neville starred with that annoyingly concerned face, and he spied Susan over his shoulder giving the same look.

Saved from having to answer, Draco thanked Merlin as the screech of the evening post filled the Hall. All the witches and wizards looked up, as various owls bearing letter's soared in. A small black one swooped over Draco, dropped a small envelope next to his plate, and took off. Draco frowned as he picked it up, and felt Neville's interested gaze on his hands. He did not recognize his scrawled name in that handwriting on the front but he opened it with a flick of a thumb, his curiosity winning over the cautious gut-feeling receiving an unknown letter created.

Draco,

Thank you so much for not listening to a single word I told you. I specifically said DO NOT confront Hermione. But did you listen? No.

Ah, this was from Harry. Draco felt Neville's attempt to read the letter over his shoulder and shifted to keep it from his gaze. This was his business, and he certainly did not want anyone to know he asked Potter for help.

I received a lovely howler from her this afternoon at work. AT WORK. The entire floor heard her yelling at me! Do you know how embarrassing that was? I'm trying to impress my boss and co-workers to get the Head-Auror position once Robards retires, and you have completely ruined that.

Draco rolled his eyes; as if anyone else could compete with the great Harry Potter.

Robards is so angry with me for disturbing the peace in the office, that I now have to do the filing for a month! Goldstein and Finnigan went around to everyone and told them I can't keep secrets, and now the whole floor is laughing at me behind my back!

You need to fix this! I told you before to just leave Hermione alone and she would come to you. But, now you've ruined that, so you'll have to think of something else.

She told me I was the worst friend ever! You better make this right between you two or I'll send YOU a howler every morning for the rest of the year!

Harry

Draco sighed, folded the letter back up, and tucked it into his jacket pocket. Something heavy sat in the pit of his stomach. Was this... guilt? Was he actually feeling guilty for Potter? The sensation made him a bit queasy.

Neville and Susan looked at each other before eyeing him.

"Everything okay, Draco?" Susan asked.

He couldn't tell his friends what was going on. They were Hermione's friends long before his, and he knew they would take her side in this. No, he needed to deal with this on his own—he needed to speak with her and try to apologize again.

He had to make her accept it this time or he'd go mad from the stress this situation was causing.

"Yeah, just gotta take care of something. I'll see you guys later."

The half-eaten plate of food had already turned cold, and giving a fleeting glance to Hermione's empty chair, he set off to find her.

Draco's heart hammered as he reached the Transfiguration Corridor. The familiar nervous flutter in his stomach made him queasy. Apologies weren't easy for him, especially when he had to repeat them. Her office door loomed in front of him imposingly and with an attempt to swallow the lump in his throat he knocked—the too-loud sound—reverberated in the empty hallway. With a straight back, he endeavoured to calm his racing heart, as he heard shuffling near the door.

The door opened and Hermione appeared before him dressed in a dark green lace dress and heeled black booties. The sight of her in the green of his House threw him off so much he, for a moment, forgot why he came. She stared wide-eyed before they narrowed into menacing slits.

With a swift movement, she made to shut the door, but Draco reached up and blocked it with his arms.

"Hermione, wait. I need to speak to you."

The grip on the wood was so tight, Draco could see her knuckles turn white. He frowned at her hand, and she let go to cross her arms. The tight lace of her sleeves bunched as Hermione regarded him with a pinched expression, before reluctantly stepping aside.

Draco shuffled past her, heart beating in his throat, as the door closed behind him. Trying to get a handle on his nerves, he took a deep breath.

"Well? What do you want?" she asked from near the door. It was obvious she was trying to put distance between them, he could see it in her rigid demeanour. Turning to face her, he ran a hand through his hair and felt a few tendrils fall from his perfect style.

"I'm... sorry." Even he could hear how forced the words rolled from his lips.

Hermione's face transformed into confusion before it morphed into anger. For a moment, her mouth opened but it snapped shut, and she walked to her desk. Books and pieces of parchment piled into her arms as she grabbed things off it.

Draco stared at her. Was she... ignoring him? "Hey, did you hear me? I said I'm sorry."

Continuing to gather things—some levitated in the air around her—she flicked her wand at them. He swore he could see fiend-fire raging behind her eyes as she snatched her inkwell.

Rage simmered in Draco's blood; he did not enjoy being ignored. When he stepped closer to her, she whipped out her wand and pointed it threateningly in his face.

"What're you gonna do, Granger? You already jinxed and cursed me, haven't you had enough?"

She dropped her wand slightly with a wavering resolve and that was all Draco needed. In a short stride towards her, he snatched the wand from her grasp. His hand reached up to cup her face and he placed his thumb over her lips, silencing her cries of protest. Setting her wand on her desk, he used his other hand to grab the stacks of papers in her arms, setting those alongside the wand.

Hermione's arms hung limp at her side, and she stared at him with large, apprehensive eyes. Draco brought his free hand to her waist, and pulled her close, tucking her body flush to his. Craning his neck down to look her squarely in the eyes, his other hand moved back to tangle in her curls, and tilted her head up.

"You and I need to talk—yes?" His nervousness disappeared with his anger, and all that was left was insatiable lust at feeling their bodies pressed together.

Trembling she nodded, her eyes never leaving his.

"I would prefer your words, Hermione. We need to talk, yes?"

"Y-yes." she stuttered, and Draco could feel himself harden at that one little word.

"You sent Potter a howler earlier today, correct?"

Hermione nodded again and he gave her a pointed look. She pressed her lips together but replied, "Yes."

"Because you're mad at me?"

Hermione huffed. "Yes!"

Draco wanted to laugh at her obvious frustration. He held back, though, it didn't stop his lips from curling into a smirk. Her eyes told him she took this as him making fun of her feelings and put her hands on his chest to push him away. He held on tight, using the hand that had been on her waist to circle her back and keep her against him.

"Why are you mad at me, Hermione?"

Her hands stilled on his chest and she looked down where they touched him. "I just—" The silence hung heavy in the room.

"How many times must I apologize? Do you want me on my knees for you?" Draco's frustration climbed, and he growled out the words.

"No, I just-"

"Yes, I pressed you up against a door and told you I wanted to fuck you. I'm sorry I asked Potter for help. But, don't you understand how mental you're driving me?!" He let go of her curls and reached both arms up to grip her shoulders, the movement forced her to look at him.

"—It just feels wrong!" She shouted, her resolve cracked. "I'm not supposed to like you! You were a—"

"What? A big bad Death Eater?" Draco sneered. "Is that all you think of when you look at me? Draco Malfoy, the Death Eater?"

Hermione's expression turned dejected, and she looked up with sad eyes. "No, Draco—no. I'm sorry that's not—"

Draco felt his stomach turn sour, and dropped his hands from her shoulders. Pulling up to his full height he whispered, "I'm sorry for everything, Hermione. I'm sorry for the side I was forced to choose in the War. I'm sorry for the shit I put you through in school, but that's not who I am anymore," His voice small when doubts fractured his mind, and he realized she would never accept him. "At least, I hope not."

He turned but a hand on his arm stopped him. "Draco, wait. Please, that's not what I meant!"

His anger threatened to overflow, he needed to get out before he said—or did— something he'd regret. He tugged his arm, but she held firm.

Draco whirled and bent down to level a glare at her. "Does the idea of being with me revolt you, Hermione? Will letting me fuck you, sully your perfect goody-two-shoes Gryffindor reputation?"

Hermione opened and closed naked lips, trying to formulate a response to his lewd words. Draco watched them open for the fourth time and he surged forward to capture them with his own. He didn't care if she'd be mad at him for it—consequences be damned, he wanted her.

She squeaked in surprise as his lips devoured hers and Draco wrapped his arms around her small frame. He walked them back until she was pressed against the stone wall. Hermione breathed in shock as she made contact with the cold surface, her lips parted and Draco took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Slipping in his tongue, she moaned beneath him as it caressed her own. His hand gripped her soft curls and pressed her mouth firmer against his.

His other hand grabbed her waist, giving it a soft squeeze as he ground his hard length against her. She moaned, and he drank the sound like he was dying of thirst and her moans were the only thing that could quench it. Draco trailed the hand from her waist higher to cup her breast, damning her clothes for the umpteenth time as they kept him from what he wanted.

Hermione pulled from the kiss, tilted her head, and moaned into the room as he squeezed. Draco trailed hot kisses down her exposed neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Draco... Please."

Biting back a moan at the sound of his name being whimpered from her lips, he repeated the same command from last night. "Tell me to stop."

Trailing his fingers to circle around and cup her arse, he squeezed a little harder than he meant to in his lust-filled excitement. Hermione moaned into his ear, which spurred Draco on, and nipped his teeth on her neck, hoping it would mark her skin.

"Please..." she whimpered beneath him, her hands fisted his robes and her legs shifted to rub against him.

Draco trailed his mouth up to her ear. "Are you begging me to fuck you against the wall, Hermione? Because if you're asking me to stop, you know what you need to say." Hot air caressed her earlobe, and he nibbed it, eliciting a breathless moan.

"I c-can't—"

Draco let go of the lobe to look at her face. Her eyes were hazy with want, her skin flushed. Bruised lips pouted as she looked up at him, he held back the urge to lean forward and take it between his teeth.

"Tell me to stop, Hermione or I might very well take you against this wall."

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Draco watched as she bit down on her lip in thought, and he tried not to be jealous her teeth got to do what he wanted.

"Stop."

Draco froze. Truthfully, he hadn't expected her to say it, and the unexpected word stung like poison. As much as it pained him to, he disentangled himself from her and put an arms breadth between them. Hermione leant against the wall, watching him with an odd expression. Mussed hair stuck up wildly around her, and Draco could spy a small love-bite at the base of her neck.

She looked soundly ravished, and Draco supposed she had been. Until the word 'stop' doused over him like a bucket of ice-water.

Hermione opened her mouth, but a knock at the door had them whirling toward it. Standing straight, she adjusted her dress and tried to shove her curls into a somewhat controlled mess.

Draco smoothed the front of his robes and pushed his hair back as she approached the door. A second knock sounded and when she opened it, he was surprised to see Flitwick standing on the other side holding a plate of food.

"Ah. Hello, Hermione. I just noticed you were absent from dinner so I brought you- Oh! Draco, hello." Flitwick nodded in greeting as Draco moved to the door.

Draco's gaze flicked to Hermione, who was still trying to smooth her hair. "Flitwick. I was just leaving." He tilted his head to Hermione, a nauseous feeling spreading through his stomach as she kept her gaze to the floor.

He truly hadn't meant for any of that to happen. The only thing he wanted to do was apologize but damn him, and his lack of control. He desired Hermione, and if that kiss had been any indicator, she had to as well—it had been explosive.

He knew his dark past was keeping her from acting on it. What would her friends and family think if she suddenly totted him on her arm?

Hermione—the Golden Girl—could have anyone she wanted. Of course, she'd never pick him.

He walked no more than five paces from her office when he heard her call out to him.

"This isn't over, Malfoy!" Her voice sounded somewhat laced with desire, and he looked over his shoulder at her. Hermione's cheeks dusted pink, yet her eyes carried a familiar look of determination. His heart pummelled in his chest, and the nauseous feeling disappeared.

Draco smirked, "No, it isn't."