A/N: Y'all have seriously earned this chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

Serious beta love to FaeOrabel.

Chapter 11: Everything is about to change

If someone had asked Draco how he planned to spend his Christmas evening, he would have said at the end of a bottle, drowning his sorrows in firewhiskey.

It surely would not have come to mind that instead, he'd be fucking Hermione Granger.

But here he was, pulling moans from the witch's lips as she lay naked, sprawled on her bed with the ugly crimson sheets, the lace teddy she wore for him now lost somewhere on the floor. Draco lay between her stocking-clad legs, devouring her sex with as much vigour as he could muster. The cries of ecstasy that left her throat were a song, the melody branded forever in his memories.

His shirt had been ripped from his body the moment he had claimed her lips after her words.

"I want you to fuck me."

Once this was over, and once Hermione realised what she had done and hexed him into oblivion, he wanted those words engraved on his tombstone.

There had been a moment of hesitation, her staring at his Dark Mark standing stark against his pale skin when they had pulled from the kiss. But Draco made sure to steer her lips back to his before any words could be uttered. One mention of the brand would be like throwing a bucket of ice water over him, and he may have died if that happened.

As Draco swiped his tongue over her clit, her delicious scent and taste coating his face, Hermione came undone, her orgasm wracking through her body. Back arched, she cried out and tangled her hands in his hair, his tongue a gentle caress as he worked her through the comedown.

As the heels of her pumps pressed into his back, Draco swore he would never forget this moment for as long as he lived.

Hermione's breaths turned laboured as Draco sat up, his erection pressing painfully against the inside of his trousers. He took in the sight before him; Hermione, wild curls spread around her head, her eyes clouded with lust as her chest heaved to calm herself.

She parted her perfect pink lips, and before she could tell him to leave, he surged forward to capture them. Their tongues darted together, and he had a brief sense of satisfaction as she moaned from tasting herself on his mouth. Draco ground his pelvis against her, his cock meeting her hot centre. The fabric of his trousers created a barrier between them, and he stifled a grunt of frustration.

Apparently, he hadn't stifled it enough, because Hermione pulled from the kiss, looking down at their bodies pressed together. She wiggled out from his hold, and Draco tried to school his features so as not to let the impending disappointment show.

Sitting on her knees, Hermione faced him, and Draco turned to her, resting on his elbow. He reached out a hand to trace a line down her neck and over a breast, the nail slightly grazing her nipple. A sharp breath sucked in through her nose, and Draco looked up to find her eyes molten gold as she took him in.

"Can I..." Hermione trailed off, tucking her swollen bottom lip between her teeth again and looking away in embarrassment.

"You've already told me you wanted to fuck me, Granger," Draco said, his voice rough with want. "Spit it out."

"I want to return the favour." Her eyes darted to his covered cock, the length twitching as she licked her lips.

His heart instantly leapt into his throat, but he tried to keep his composure. So, instead of telling Hermione that she nearly just killed him, he flipped to his back, placing a hand behind his head with a smirk on his lips. "By all means, ravish me."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, though it quickly disappeared to be replaced with a nervous gaze as she looked back to his trousers.

"Have you done this before?" Draco asked with concern.

Red instantly coloured her cheeks, and she furrowed her brow as she tried to hide her face behind her mass of curls. "N-no, but I've read about it..."

"You've—read about it?"

"Yes," she huffed, her embarrassment now stirring the familiar, angry Hermione back to the surface.

"In what types of books?" Draco couldn't help the smirk that curled his lips as her blush deepened.

"It doesn't matter!" In anger, she reached forward to grip his waistband, but Draco quickly grasped her wrist, stilling her movements. Dropping her hand, he trailed his fingers up her arm and to her face, grabbing her bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger gently before releasing the bruised flesh.

"Did you read them in dirty books?" he mumbled, his cock twitching at the idea of prudish, good-girl Hermione Granger, enjoying herself as she read about two people fucking. "Did you touch yourself while you… studied?"

Hermione's mouth popped open and quickly snapped shut, her blush now spreading down her neck. "I-I, well..."

Draco sat up in a swift movement, tangled his hands in Hermione's curls, and crashed her lips to his. Guiding her on top of him, her legs settled on either side of his hips, her heated centre pressed to his throbbing length. His free hand roamed over her back, cresting over the swell of her arse and giving a gentle squeeze.

Pulling from the kiss, Hermione's breath was warm against his face, "Don't you want me to...?" she trailed off, tugging her lip between her teeth.

Truthfully, he would have surely loved to have her mouth around his cock. But his craving for the witch was already so high, he feared one swipe of her tongue would have him coming in an instant.

"We can play later," he replied with a strained smirk, and recaptured her mouth, using his tongue to swipe over where her teeth had been nibbling on the flesh. To his surprise, Hermione deepened it further and reached between her legs to undo the button of his trousers.

Taking the hint, Draco aided her, undoing the clasps and quickly shifting his legs to pull them off without having to break from her sweet lips.

When his cock pressed to her core, finally without a barrier between them, he groaned loudly into her mouth. He didn't even have time to ask if he could continue—as a proper gentleman should. Instead, Hermione gripped him, her soft hand warm around his length, and guided the tip of his cock to her soaked centre.

The first inch was torture.

It was slow—unbearably so. Hermione took him languidly, and Draco contained every animalistic urge to ram inside of her, to bury himself in her in one quick stroke. He knew he was large, and though Draco was sure she wasn't a virgin, she still didn't seem to be all that experienced.

Once fully seated on his cock, their kiss stilled, though their lips stayed pressed together as Hermione allowed herself to become accustomed to his size.

When she shifted her hips, Draco saw stars.

She was so perfectly tight around him, so wet and hot. Draco gripped her hips tightly, sure that finger-sized bruises would mark the skin come morning. His hands continued further down over her thighs, the stocking material silk beneath his fingers.

With a stifled breath, Hermione finally raised herself up, and Draco said a silent prayer to whatever deity granted him this gift.

When she came back down again, Draco made a promise that if he ever found out what deity had, he would become devout.

He could feel her quiver around him as she did it again, her slick coating his cock. A small whimper left her lips as their pelvises met for the third time, and Draco mumbled words of encouragement against her mouth.

As she increased her speed, their tongues met, tasting and exploring with a chaotic and ravenous rhythm. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling the locks tightly between her fingers, and Draco relished the small amount of pain. As Hermione sat up to grind against him, her pace faltered, and Draco in his haste to chase the pleasure, bucked up into her.

The loud groan that escaped her mouth made him do it again—and again. The sounds of pleasure coming from the witch spurred him on, his hips slapping against her roughly and without restraint. His fingers resumed their spots on her hips to hold her steady, his thumbs fitting so perfectly into the divot that he was sure it was made just for him.

Hermione matched him thrust for thrust—always the overachiever. Draco could tell, though he enjoyed this position, Hermione was too focused on her movements and not enough on her pleasure. So, moving his hands to grip her arse cheeks, Draco stopped their actions and sat up, their lips crashing together again as their chests met. As her arms wrapped around his neck, he flipped them, pressing her into the abhorrent red cloth.

"We really must get you new sheets," Draco mumbled, his words holding none of the bite that they meant to, too focused on the hunger filling every fibre of his body.

Hermione rolled her eyes; her cheeks tinged pink from the warmth of the room, "Do we really have to discuss that right now?"

Draco bucked into her deeply, causing a gasp to be ripped from her mouth. "No, I have more important things to do right now."

Grabbing her leg, he tucked her knee into the crook of his elbow, allowing him to sink deeper inside her. Another gasp left her lips as he ground against her, and the sound sent a fresh wave of desire that coated his skin in goosebumps. His cock pulsated with the ache of wanting to move quickly, to fuck fast and hard and have her panting his name. But he wanted to take this unhurriedly, wanted to make sure she enjoyed every minute of it.

Merlin, who was he turning into?

As he slid out slowly, the feel of her tightening around him had Draco pushing back in almost immediately. He repeated this action a few times, her nails digging into his back and whispered swears floating across his skin.

"Draco..." she mumbled, his name on her lips like a plea. "Please. I need... I want more."

It took everything in him not to come undone at those words.

"Tell me what you want me to do," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck as he slid out and back in again.

The huff of irritation Hermione gave in response had his lips curling into a smirk against her skin. The silence stretched between them, Draco continuing his lazy pace, his cock throbbing in defiance of his deliberate actions.

Until finally, she repeated those words that brought them to this scenario in the first place.

"I want you to fuck me."

A jolt shot down his spine and straight to his cock, and he gripped her leg a little tighter to stop himself from ramming into her. After a few deep breaths and another brief thank you to any deity that was listening, Draco complied.

His vision turned black as he shut his eyes tight and readjusted his hips to give her what she wanted, increasing his speed slowly. He wanted to make sure she became accustomed to the pace; to ensure she enjoyed what he was about to do.

Because Draco was about to fuck the ever-living daylights out of Hermione.

Hips thrusting, every nerve ending of his cock went haywire as Hermione moaned, her walls fluttering against him. She shifted her hips against his, angling in just the right way to allow him deeper. It felt as if she had got wetter—if that was even possible—and it only spurred Draco on. He moved her leg, using his hand to push her stocking-clad knee back to the mattress and—fuck—the sharp heel of her shoe dug into his hip...

If Heaven were real, this would be his.

A groan left his mouth as Hermione tugged his hair, her nails scraping his scalp in a tingling pain that made him see red. Draco bit her shoulder in response, earning a gasp from the witch. The scent of her curls filled his nose as he took a deep breath, the lavender scent surrounding him like a cocoon. Her heel dug further into his skin, and Draco hoped with some odd ache of want, that it would leave a permanent mark.

All too soon, he could feel himself nearing the edge, and in a last-ditch effort to make Hermione come again, Draco dropped her leg and reached between them. His thumb flicked rapidly over her clit, and he trailed his tongue up her neck and to her ear, biting the lobe with more force than he meant. The choked moan that followed indicated that she liked it, so he did it again.

"Draco, I'm going to come; please don't stop."

As if he had any intention of that.

Draco shifted his thumb quicker, his cock pressing deeper inside of her in his haste. His movements became erratic as he chased his own orgasm, the feel of her breaths like a hot symphony on his skin.

With a cry, Hermione came, her back arching and arms tightening around him to draw him closer. The sound was unlike anything Draco had heard before; it was like his own personal siren song, the beautiful melody calling to him in a storm. As her walls clenched around him, Draco tipped over his edge, following Hermione's cry with a strangled grunt.

They could have laid there tangled together for minutes—hours—days, and Draco wouldn't have noticed. He no longer knew where Hermione began, and he ended. His limbs felt leaden and spent, and when he finally managed to pull out of her and lay down beside her, his lungs chasing a breath, the only thing he wanted to do was laugh.

He had just fucked Hermione Granger.

In Hogwarts.

In her room.

And he wanted to do it again.

They had laid together for nearly two hours, wrapped in each other's embrace. Draco had traced his fingertips along every part of Hermione's skin he could touch, his lips eventually following.

"When did you realise you fancied me?" Hermione asked while Draco trailed his mouth over her clothed knee.

Pulling back, Draco smirked and grabbed the heel of her shoe, placing the flat of it against his chest. His fingers moved lightly over the faux-hide, and he planted a gentle kiss to her ankle above the metal snake.

"Just before the sorting, when you walked in wearing those damn black pumps. I was a goner the moment I saw you."

Hermione snorted, "Oh, please. They're just shoes."

Draco gave her an incredulous look, trying to put as much sincerity into his gaze as possible. "Granger, you have no idea what these things do to me. You told me once that wearing these makes you feel powerful."

Hermione swallowed and nodded.

"Well, I like seeing you feel powerful. I like the way you hold yourself up a little higher when you wear them. I like the way a newfound confidence radiates from you with each clicking step. But mostly..." he trailed off, smirking. "Mostly I just like the way your arse swings as you walk."

He let out a barked laugh as Hermione sat up to slap his arm, and he reached forward to grip her wrist, dropping her leg and pulling their chests flush against each other. "What about you?"

Trailing light kisses down her neck, the corners of Draco's lips curled upward as her breath hitched.

"I suppose I began to think differently of you when I discovered how close you are with Neville and Susan, and then when we went to see Hagrid... I just realised you weren't that same, snotty boy from when we were children."

Hermione's fingers drew a gentle path over his bare back, and across the faded Sectumsempra scars lining his torso. "At least, most of the time."

She let out a gentle squeal and laughed as Draco pinned her beneath him, hovering on his forearms, a sneer contorting his features. "I can be that snotty boy again if that's what you prefer."

Hermione grinned and placed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Oh, no, please. I don't think the students could take much more of your sour attitude."

"How about I show you just how sour I can be?" Draco bent and nibbled her collar bone, pulling a sharp gasp from the witch's lips. Already, he could feel himself hardening again, her warm, soft body filling every inch of him with desire.

"Draco..." she whispered, "it's late, and no one can know—"

"No one can know about this. I know." Draco sighed and ground against her warm centre. "I'll be quick, I promise."

Her legs rubbed against his hips, the position squaring his cock to her entrance.

"Hermione, don't tease me." Draco groaned, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. "You have no idea how much you drive me insane, witch."

"Show me."

His head snapped up at her words, finding a bright blush covering her cheeks. Hermione pulled her reddened lips between her teeth, and Draco's cock throbbed at the action. Leaning down, he captured her mouth, pulling her lip between his teeth instead so he could bite on it gently. The moan from her throat had him pressing against her, finding her still slick with want.

When he pressed in this time, it was as if he had just come home.

Hermione sighed as he seated himself fully in her, his length pressing that sweet spot he now knew made her writhe. Pulling out gently, Draco barely made it halfway before his body defiantly pushed back in. It was as if his primal instincts overrode his brain, his blood screaming to fuck the witch hard and fast while his mind wanted it slow and tender. If this was how it would be every time, Draco would go completely insane.

Hermione panted, her eyes half-lidded and mouth parted open in pleasure. "Can you go faster?"

At those words, his blood sang.

Reluctantly pulling out, Draco smirked as she let out a small whimper. "Turn around. On your knees."

She crooked a brow, but complied, her beautiful bare arse fully on display before him. Arching her back propped it even higher in the air, and Draco nearly came at the sight.

With a growl, he cupped her arse cheeks in either hand, squeezing roughly as he slid back inside of her. The new position made her even tighter, and he was able to feel every glorious inch of her quim as he pressed his pelvis to her skin.

"You want it faster?" His voice came out strained; he could barely contain the desire he felt.

Hermione, face pressed to her pillow, nodded, her tangled curls flying in every direction.

Gripping her hips tightly, Draco slid out and pressed back, his cock twitching at the moans leaving her mouth. He quickened his pace, the magnificent sounds of pleasure and slapping flesh filling the room. Hermione's arse jiggled deliciously with each thrust, and when Draco gently slapped a hand over one mound, his pace stuttered at the beautiful sharp gasp she gave.

"Did you like that?" he grunted, doing it again.

Hermione whimpered as his hand made contact, her lip trapped between her teeth. It was apparent she enjoyed it a bit rough, and Draco felt an odd rush of courage at her reactions. To test the waters, he reached forward to tangle her curls in his fingers, gently pulling her back against him.

The new position allowed him to plunge deeper inside of her, and Hermione cried out as he bucked inside her. Draco growled at the sight and gripped her breast with his free hand, biting the crook of her neck.

"Touch yourself."

Hermione followed his command, her fingers flying to her clit to rub it in haphazard circles.

As he fucked her harder, his movements increased in speed and force as he felt her walls fluttering around his cock. Her other hand scrabbled for purchase on his arm as her fingers quickened at her clit, and with a sharp cry, Hermione came, her quim pulsating around him.

It was even more beautiful than the previous ones had been.

With her head thrown back against his shoulder, Draco disentangled his fingers from her hair and gripped the other breast. It allowed him to steady his pace into a firm rhythm, her arse pushing splendidly against his groin.

When he came this time, spilling himself deep inside of her, Draco swore his heart stopped beating.

Reluctantly, he let her breasts go, and Hermione dropped unceremoniously to the bed, a breathless laugh leaving her lips as she turned to face him.

Draco stayed on his knees, his cock still half-hard, and grinned down at the bushy-haired witch. "You're going to be the death of me."

The smile she gave him made her glow; her skin glistened with sweat. Draco hoped the bright red marks marring the surface of her breasts and hips would last for days.

When she reached a hand forward, Draco fell into her instantly, tucking her into his side and pressing a lazy kiss to her cheek.

"Happy Christmas, Draco," Hermione mumbled.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione," he replied, burying his face into her lavender-scented mass of curls.

Oh, he was done absolutely for.

Draco woke the next morning from the best sleep of his life. Sure, he was alone, back in his own bed after having snuck out of Hermione's, but he couldn't be happier. He finally had sex with Hermione—twice—and it was even better than his dreams had ever conjured.

The sounds of her moans still filled his ears, and her scent still lingered on his skin. He would be lying if he said he hadn't wanked to the memory of their romp right after waking.

Dressing with a spring in his step, Draco hurried to the Great Hall for breakfast, the hour much later than he had intended to wake. The tables were half-empty, the students already off doing whatever it was they did after Christmas. A handful played a game of Exploding Snap at the Gryffindor table, and Draco was happy to note a few Slytherin's amongst them.

Hermione sat at her chair, The Daily Prophet held up in front of her, shielding her from view, though her mass of curls still poked around the pages.

Draco sidled into his seat nonchalantly, fixing a cup of tea and his plate.

"Good morning, Granger." He greeted with an air of indifference.

"Malfoy," she replied, her eyes never leaving the page she was perusing. To a passerby, she would have sounded apathetic, but Draco could hear the small rise in her voice that divulged her true emotions.

Draco smirked into his cup. They had discussed this at length last night before he left, both agreeing that it would be best to pretend they were still distant with each other. McGonagall's rule of no relationships angered Hermione, but Draco knew there would be nothing for it right now. He didn't want to risk everyone knowing his business when there was a substantial chance Hermione would realise just who it was she let fuck her, and subsequently kick him to the curb.

"Interesting story on page three," Hermione commented as she sipped her tea.

Draco looked over at the papers in her hand, a brow arched as he read over the articles and pictures. There, right at the centre of page three, was a picture of him and Pansy as they walked through Diagon Alley on Christmas Eve. Her arm was wrapped in his, and the bold title "Slytherin Prince and Princess back together?" sat just above it.

Draco snorted, "About as interesting as Thestral dung."

Hermione smiled as she flipped the page, but a sudden, booming voice caught their attention.

"Draco! 'ermione! You'll never believe the news I just got." Hagrid bellowed as he half-ran to the table. A piece of parchment waved between his fingers excitedly, and when he came to their chairs, he thrust the letter to Hermione.

"Draco, d'you remember last year when I wanted to bring dragons in fer the students?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Hagrid, I told you how dangerous that would be. McGonagall agreed—"

"Well when the Headmistress heard my other idea, she said yes and wrote to the Ministry," Hagrid rushed out. "And they said it would be fine to 'ave baby dragons come, as long as a Keeper stays with 'em."

"Hagrid," Hermione interrupted, eyes darting over the letter. "The Ministry approved this?"

"Yep!' Hagrid exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "And you'll never believe who's bringin' 'em! It was supposed to be Charlie, but suppose he's a bit busy, now that he's in charge of runnin' the Sanctuary and all."

Hermione furrowed her brow at the parchment, and Hagrid uttered words that had Draco's stomach plummeting to depths previously undiscovered by man.

"Ron's goin' to bring 'em!"