A/N: Hi hi! Happy Saturday(or Sunday, wherever you are in the world!). I had to take a slight break from writing, work has been eating a lot of my time. But! I hope this chapter makes up for it (: Originally it was supposed to go in a COMPLETELY different direction, but these pesky characters were having none of it.

Beta love to Mrs_Poncey & FaeOrabel! You guys are the best.

Chapter Eight: A deliciously devilish idea

Draco frowned as he watched the students swarm inside Honeydukes. They were like moths to a flame; he wondered briefly how rich the owner was from lining their pockets with children's money. Though, he supposed the shop owner made as much money from him since Draco had a rather hardy sweet tooth. That was one of the few things that had carried with him through adolescence, and his mother, who sent him sweets nearly every day as a child, only made it worse.

A few students said hello to him as they passed before joining their peers inside the shop. Draco sighed, he hated when he had to chaperone the Hogsmeade weekends. It was a waste of a day, and he felt like a glorified babysitter; he couldn't do anything except watch a bunch of teenagers spend their money.

He pulled his coat tighter around him and took out his wand to cast a warming charm. December had descended upon them quickly and with it brought a frigid chill and heaps of snow; exactly what he preferred. It had only been little more than a week since he had confronted Hermione in her office, and they had yet to get the chance to speak again. With the Christmas season fast approaching, deadlines and exams ate up most of their time. But he was happy that she had at least stopped avoiding him, though it had turned somewhat awkward between them. There was an unresolved air of want—she knew his feelings towards her, but her's were still a mystery.

Draco promised to himself that he was done chasing Hermione. He had finally brewed a large batch of Sleeping Draught and was no longer dreaming of her. His mornings were peaceful again and it had put his mind back to rights. Hermione could come to him if she wanted, but he would no longer seek her out.

"Hello, Draco!" Flitwick called as he made his way towards him through the snowy path.

Draco nodded to the half-goblin in greeting. "Flitwick. Off to the Three Broomsticks to see Rosmerta?"

He could see the already-reddened cheeks of the short man turn a brighter shade at the insinuation. "Well, only for a drink! Her butterbeer is the best, you know."

He fiddled nervously with his cloak, and Draco smirked at his obvious embarrassment. He discovered last year that Flitwick harboured a crush on the barkeep and Draco liked to remind him of it now and then.

Flitwick adjusted the buttons of his suit and looked up at Draco with a stern gaze. "Smile all you like, Mr Malfoy but at least I don't upset women."

Draco's smirk instantly dropped from his face and Flitwick crossed his arms haughtily, a grin spreading across his features. "That's right. I'm a Ravenclaw through and through, Draco." He tapped the side of his thinly framed spectacles. "Observance is one of our key traits. You don't think I noticed how upset Hermione was when I brought her dinner last week? Or how you two refuse to make eye-contact since?" He gave Draco a glare. "What was it you were speaking of before I interrupted?"

Draco could feel his cheeks heating and his mind whirled as he tried to push away the thoughts of what he had said to her. Flitwick would surely hold it over his head for the rest of his career if he knew that Draco fancied her.

He settled for a half-truth. "I was... apologising."

"Apologising?"

"For... you know. Everything." Draco tried to be vague for two reasons. One, there were too many young ears here to say he had been atoning for being a Death Eater. He had already squashed enough rumours as an apprentice. Two, he couldn't very well tell Flitwick he had been apologising for telling Hermione he wanted to fuck her.

Flitwick looked suddenly very uncomfortable. The War was one of the few subjects he did not enjoy discussing. "Ah, right... Well I-I uh—"

"Enjoy your butterbeer, Professor Flitwick."

The short man sighed in relief at the out Draco gave him. He took it—said goodbye, and scurried off to the Three Broomsticks.

Draco resumed the frown he had before Flitwick greeted him. His mood soured further after speaking with the Charms professor. Not because of what he had said, no. It was because Flitwick reminded him of that night, of what he had said to Hermione, their kiss, and everything in between. He had tried his best to keep it from his thoughts this past week, but now it was at the forefront of his mind.

Various images swam through his memory: her heart-shaped lips, swollen and red from their kiss. The love-bite that had marked her skin, he was sure needed bruise-removal paste to get rid of. How utterly wild and divine her curls had looked from his fingers being tangled in them.

Draco's stomach flipped while he thought of her, and when he spied a student lift a box of sugar quills through the window of Honeydukes, an idea popped into his mind. It would break the promise he had made to himself not to chase Hermione, but it was too much of a deliciously devilish idea to pass up.

He waited patiently outside until the shop had cleared enough for him to venture in without being suffocated. Once through the doors, he made his way directly to the sugar quills and picked up a small box of them. A smirk spread across his face while he thought of his plan.

Oh, he was going to have fun with this.

He grabbed a box of chocolate wands, his personal favourite, as he headed to the counter to purchase his items. Draco nodded in greeting to the worker and a few of the students milling about, paid for his items, and left the stifling shop as it filled again.

The plan would need to wait for a few days until he could catch her totally unaware, but Draco didn't mind. He would wait with all the patience he could muster; it would give him just enough time to think of the perfect thing to say.

"Now, I know we're coming up on holiday and everyone is excited but I don't think that's cause to charm someone's hair green, is it?"

"No, Sir..." mumbled Georgia Toogood, that first-year Slytherin he knew would be trouble. It seemed she had developed quite the rivalry with Maxwell Zebley, a Gryffindor first-year. This was not the first time Draco had to keep her after class to scold her for terrorising that poor boy and it wasn't even Christmas yet.

"You know I don't tolerate malicious behaviour. Was this unprovoked?" Draco asked her.

Georgia's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "No! That's to say, no Sir. He was making fun of me for..."

"For what, Miss Toogood?"

The curly-haired blonde looked to the ground with reddened cheeks and mumbled out the rest of her explanation. "Someone told him I like Summer... He calls me a lot of names."

Oh. Well. That changed things.

Draco stared at the first-year Slytherin as he tried to think of something to say. Not that he felt uncomfortable by the confession, his best friend was gay for Merlin's sake. But, he never envisioned himself having this talk with a student.

"Well..." he scratched the back of his neck. "Okay. Well, that's okay. You can like Summer, that's perfectly normal. Just... next time come to me first, okay? You know I'd much rather take points from Gryffindor."

He gave her a smirk, and she gave him a small smile in return.

"So, I'll still have to take 10 points from Slytherin for that stunt you pulled, alright? And if you continue to harass Mr Zebley I'll have to add detention to that list. Are we understood?"

Georgia nodded in solemn agreement, and Draco sighed. He hated having to discipline his students, it always made him feel guilty. They were just children, after all, and most of the younger ones knew nothing of what Hogwarts had been like when Draco was a student. It had tamed considerably since after the war.

"Tell me next time he says anything before you decide to enact revenge. Or I might have to pair you up with Summer for the rest of the year..." He smirked as her face turned three shades of scarlet. "You can go now."

He chuckled to himself as she nearly ran out of the room, embarrassment clear across her features. Punishment was not something he enjoyed, but he did get a kick out of embarrassing them every once in a while.

He turned back to the papers at his desk as he prepared himself for his free period. Draco only got half-way through the fourth-years reports when the sound of tapping echoed in the empty hall. The Potion's classroom door was left open, and he glanced at it to find Hermione standing in the doorway. Her hair started to come loose from the bun, and he could see her wand tangled in the curls.

Chest heaving, she strode towards him with fire in her eyes. Those white leather pumps he had taken from her all those weeks ago clicked loudly on the stone as she approached, and her teacher's robes billowed around her like a black cloud. Merlin, did she look good in black. It was unfair, really; he was supposed to be the one dominating the dark wardrobe market but she made it look so effortless.

"What are you trying to pull, Malfoy?" She spat the words at him like a bad taste in her mouth.

Draco couldn't help but smirk at her tone.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Hermione." He gave her as innocent a look as he could muster, though the smirk still held on his face.

"So you have no idea how these—" she dropped a box of sugar quills on top of the report he was grading, "ended up on my desk in the middle of a lecture?"

"Oh how nice, those are your favourite, aren't they?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed so much it almost looked like she had closed them. "Did you happen to notice the note attached to them?"

Draco looked back down at the box with feigned curiosity. Of course, he knew there was a note there, but he picked it up off the top of the package and read it, trying to keep himself from laughing at her anger.

He debated reading it aloud but knew the instant the words he wrote left his lips she'd hex him to the New Year. So instead, he quickly read over his handiwork silently.

My sweet Hermione,

I found myself wandering Hogsmeade and happened upon Honeydukes. As I stood outside, I noticed someone pick up a sugar quill and instantly thought of you.

I'd love to watch your lips close over the candied feather of one of them. What I wouldn't give to drag it all over your body and lick the sugar off with my tongue. Though I'm sure your body doesn't need any extra sweetness, you probably taste divine.

I hope you enjoy these.

Your Secret Admirer

He couldn't help himself; he let out a soft chuckle at his note.

Hermione turned livid.

"Do you have any idea how embarrassing this was?!" She nearly screamed at him. "It was delivered in the middle of a lecture! I had to read this—" she snatched the note from his hands and waved it in his face, "In front of thirty fifteen-year-olds!"

Draco held his hands up in defence, "Honestly, Granger. I have no idea what you're talking about, I didn't send this."

Hermione crumpled the note in her hand and placed the other on his desk as she leant close to his face. Draco couldn't help but glance at her ruby red lips as they neared him. He thought about closing the distance to steal a kiss, but before he could, Hermione gritted her teeth and muttered a sentence that had his stomach flipping in trepidation.

"Two can play at this game."

Then she left in a breeze of honeysuckle and the fading sound of tapping heels on cobblestone.

Draco stared wide-eyed at the open door, unsure of what he had got himself into.

It had snowed so much in the week leading up to the start of the holiday even Hagrid had trouble walking through it. Draco stood at the open door of the Entrance Hall, watching as the students walked through the path that had been painstakingly shovelled by Filch and left to go to the train station to head home for the holiday.

Christmas time always seemed to leave Draco with a funny feeling. It was never a warm time in his household. Every occasion had always been a stiff affair—but still, his only remaining family was his mother, and he couldn't see her. The only correspondence they had over the years were a few letters and gifts on Christmas and birthdays.

Most of the faculty had things to do on Christmas. Neville and Susan would leave to see their families for the day, and Draco was sure Hermione would do the same.

With nothing else to do and hours before dinnertime, he headed back to the Dungeons to grade papers. A familiar scent wafted through the air, something he recognised but couldn't quite place. It was floral and sweet, and he followed the trail straight into the Potions classroom. Was someone brewing something?

Draco stopped dead in his tracks at the sight in his room. Hermione sat on his desk, her legs crossed and those beautiful tall red heels bouncing slightly as she bobbed her leg rhythmically. Black sheer stockings peeked out from underneath the teachers' robes that had bunched slightly around her thighs.

With crossed arms, Hermione faced him, an air of determination set on her face. Her wand was tucked into the bun on her head—and when she pulled it free, the curls tumbled down her back. The door shut behind him as she flicked her wand silently, and the bolt-lock slid into place.

Caught completely off-guard, Draco tried to mask the emotion on his face. He remembered the promise Hermione made last week after having received that box of sugar quills. Everyday Draco had woken with frayed nerves, waiting for her revenge.

It seemed today was that day.

In an attempt to appear nonchalant, Draco picked a piece of invisible lint of his robes. "Something I can help you with, Granger?"

"There is, in fact."

Before Draco could look up to see what she was doing, she unbuttoned the front of her robes. It revealed a mouth-watering, white silk nightdress draped over her body, the fabric left very little to the imagination. Her generous breasts pressed against the top and her nipples poked through the fabric, hardened against the cold air of the Dungeon. The end barely covered her panties, which matched the edge of the black lace lined dress. Those damned stockings stopped just above her knee, leaving her creamy thighs exposed.

Draco blinked, and his mouth popped open in defiance.

What the fuck is going on.

"Let's finish that conversation from last week, hm?" Hermione fiddled with her wand, tapping the end on her thigh. She appeared non-pulsed, nonchalant as if this was a normal conversation, as though only wearing a scrap of cloth was a completely common occurrence.

Draco stared, wide-eyed, and realising his mouth was still hanging open ungentlemanly, he snapped it shut. He nodded once, not trusting his words. He was sure his voice would crack like a prepubescent boy if he attempted to speak.

"Would you like to sit, Professor?" Hermione flicked her wand at the chair only a few feet in front of her, and it jolted back from the desk. With an arched brow, she inclined her head to it, an amused expression across her face. Draco's legs carried him forward before he could think about it. His head was buzzing slightly at the sight of the witch in front of him—curls a mess, scantily clad and Merlin. She was wearing this for him.

"Now," she continued once Draco slid onto the chair. "Last week, you sprung a conversation on me I didn't expect to have. You kissed me quite suddenly without allowing me to explain myself. So, you will sit there and listen, understood?"

Again, Draco nodded, for once at a complete loss for words. Her authoritative voice, and her dress, did nothing to help his head clear. He was only glad his loose teacher's robes hid what would have been an obvious boner in his trousers.

I swear this witch could make me cum without ever touching me.

"You accused me of not... of not wanting you because you were a Death Eater." A light blush crept up her neck and settled over her cheeks. She was obviously uncomfortable speaking so openly about her feelings for him. "That is part of the truth, but not all of it. While I don't blame you for the part you played in the War, you were a bully in school and a Pureblood prince."

Draco made to speak, but Hermione cut him off.

"I'm not done." He snapped his mouth shut, and she resumed. "I'm a mudblood to you, Draco. Do you expect me to believe that you suddenly fancy me? That you've just given up all of your previous beliefs?"

"Yes." Draco cut in before she could continue. Shocked, she sat up a little straighter, and Draco couldn't stop his gaze from jumping down for a moment to her breasts as they stuck out further.

"I know I was a complete ass to you in school, Hermione. I know I said some horrible things to you and your friends. I didn't plan on being attracted to you, but you make it so bloody hard not to be."

At this, he stood and slowly approached like he was walking toward a nervous deer. Only an arms' length away, he stopped and looked down at her. "We became friends, and then something changed and when Harry told me you liked me, too..." Her gaze darkened a little at the reminder of Harry's betrayal. "I want you, Hermione. If you don't want me, tell me now. I'll stop pursuing you. I—I know I don't deserve you, but I could make you so happy if you'd let me."

At some point, Draco had walked a little closer and the fronts of Hermione's crossed knees brushed his thighs. She continued to fiddle with her wand in her hand and chewed on her bottom lip while she thought. Their eyes never left each other, and all Draco wanted to do was close the distance and kiss her.

"I want you." She whispered.

Draco stared at her for a breath of a second before surging forward to capture her lips. Her wand clattered to the floor as she dropped it to wrap her arms around his waist. Draco cupped her face, kissing her slow and gentle. Their lips fit together so perfectly, and Draco tried to pour everything he was feeling into it.

Hermione sighed against his lips, and he crept a hand to the back of her neck, tilting her head back slightly to deepen the kiss. Her mouth opened willingly and their kiss instantly turned from sweet and chaste to a clash of tongue and teeth. Without realising, Hermione had opened her legs, and Draco stepped between them. Her core pressed against the bottom of his thigh and—fuck, it was hot. Her scent of honeysuckle and vanilla surrounded him, and all he wanted was to bury himself inside her; his cock, his finger, even his face. Something.

Trailing the hand that still cupped her cheek down her body, he placed it at the small of her back to press her closer. Another moan escaped her mouth when Draco took her bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently. He moaned in return when her breasts pressed firmly against his chest.

They pulled apart for a moment to catch their breath, but Draco wasted no time before he leant forward to devour her throat. He placed the hand that had been on the back of her neck firmly on the desk beside her as he trailed hot kisses up and down her skin. Stopping at random points to leave marks, he hoped it was covered in his love bites for the holiday.

Hermione's hands tightened on his teacher's robes, and she used it to pull him more firmly to her.

"You have no idea how much I want you, Hermione," Draco said between kisses. After leaving what could have been a tenth mark on her neck, he trailed his lips back up to hers and kissed her soundly. The silk fabric of her nightdress bunched in his hand on her back, and he pulled away to look down at it. If he could've got any harder than he already was at the sight, his cock would have burst the seam of his trousers.

The dress had shifted, and one of her breasts almost exposed, the bottom pulled up to her hips and her black lace panties pressed against his thigh were on full display. Draco moved his hand from her back and trailed it around her front, gently rubbing his thumb on the underside of her breast.

"Did you have a plan to go along with why you're wearing this?" He looked back up to her flushed face with a smirk.

Hermione's throat bobbed as she swallowed nervously, and she glanced down to her dress with a small smile. "Well, originally I was going to show this off and deny you but well... That didn't quite work out."

Draco chuckled and placed a finger under her chin to lift her face. "No, I daresay it didn't."

Her eyes searched his, a frown turning her lips. "I'm sorry too, Draco. For hexing you, and the slap and being so—so uncertain."

Placing both of his hands on her hips to shift her forward, Draco pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and let out a dramatic sigh. "It's not your fault, I'm an enigma."

Hermione swatted at his chest and let out a small laugh. The sound made Draco's heart stutter in his chest. If he could only hear one sound for the rest of his life it would be her laugh. The need to kiss her again overcame him, and he cupped her face with one hand and kept hold of her hip with the other. Leaning down, he captured her lips in a searing kiss that made Hermione moan low in her throat.

She placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed back. Draco pulled from the kiss reluctantly and pressed his forehead to hers.

"Draco, hold on. I have—I'm not..." She chewed on her bottom lip and glanced at the floor. "What are we doing?"

Draco pulled back slightly to look down at her. "What do you mean?"

"What is this going to turn into? I'm not... I don't want to be another trophy on your mantle."

Right, she still saw him as some kind of sex fiend. Well, he supposed it was his own fault that his schoolmates spread his exploits around the castle like wildfire. But he had never truly thought about what this would turn into. He was bloody attracted to her, that was for sure, but did he want more? More importantly, did she want more?

Hermione must have noticed his hesitation because she shifted back and adjusted her hair and dress. Her obvious pain decided for him instantly.

"Hermione."

She ignored him and continued to fix herself, buttoning up her teacher's robes.

"Hey." Draco placed his hands over hers, stopping her movements. "I've never... I've never dated anyone before." He felt like such an idiot at his confession, but she looked up at him with surprised eyes.

"But what about Pansy, and Daphne?"

With a sigh, he dropped his hands from hers. "Just... trophies on the mantle, as you said. But I don't want you to be one, Hermione. I want more. I don't know what this will turn into, but I don't want it to be a fling."

And he truly meant it. He wanted more from Hermione. More of her, all of her.

She let out a shuddered breath and smiled.

"Plus, I'm pretty sure Potter and Blaise will kick my ass if I hurt you."

The laugh that he was so enraptured with escaped her mouth, and he reached forward to cup her face. He gave her another gentle kiss to her swollen lips that made him want to press her into his desk. But he knew now wasn't the time. Instead, he kissed her slowly and delicately and his stomach fluttered as she arched into it.

He'd wait till she was ready, Draco only hoped she wouldn't make him wait too long.