I cried out again, tears streaming down my face as Draco plunged into me again. His loud grunts and soft groans of pleasure could barely be heard over my intense moaning and pleading screams. My hands were bound to the headboard by his silk, Slytherin tie, and I pulled at the restraints. I hissed as the tie chaffed my wrists, and I moaned his name as his hips churned into mine. My body was damp with sweat, my sense of sight hidden beneath my Gryffindor tie. I cried out again, pleading incoherently for Draco to give me release as he bit and sucked on my throat, claiming me with his mark. I felt the tingles fly straight up my back, and my body arched into Draco, bringing our bodies closer together. My voice grew hoarse as I screamed Draco's name, and he groaned loudly, falling over the edge with me. I felt his fingers run up the lengths of my arms, and I shivered from the feel of his silky fingertips. He undid his tie and kissed my wrists, and then he took my tie from my eyes. I blinked back into focus, to see Draco giving me his infamous smirk. He didn't smirk enough these days.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked quietly, his eyes on my wrists. I looked at them, and there were red marks circling my wrists like bracelets.

I shook my head, giving him a reassuring smile. "No, it just left a mark."

He beamed at me and fell next to me on the bed, throwing his left arm over his eyes. I itched to caress it, to sooth any pain that he may feel, but I refrained and stayed on my back.

"What's wrong, Draco?" He shrugged, and I frowned. Usually, he didn't get all hot and angry like this until I set foot into the Room of Requirement, but today, he had found me before I went to him. I was walking from the library, two hours before ten o'clock, when Draco had pulled me into a secluded corner and snogged me senseless.

I need you now, Granger. I need you bad.

He dragged me to the Room of Requirement, stripped me quickly, and threw me onto the bed. I stared at him in shock and arousal as he undressed quickly and tied me up.

It'll be more intense, Granger. I need it to be intense right now.

And Merlin, was it intense.

Clearly, though, something was wrong.

I stared at him as his breathing slowed, his right hand tracing patterns on my naked torso. "Draco, please tell me what's bothering you? Is it your arm?"

He growled and pushed me away from him, and I mentally sighed in frustration. This was the fourth night that he had pushed me away, that he refused to talk to me. This was the fourth night that we had this angry and crazed sex, and I just knew he was hiding something from me. I knew it had to do with his arm, because he hated that arm. He said he couldn't even bare to look at it in the shower.

"Granger," he started in his domineering voice, "how many fucking times do I need to tell you to stop thinking about my bloody arm? This fucking arm has nothing to do with you, so stop asking me about it!"

"Draco, I just want to help."

"I don't fucking care, Granger!" he screamed at me, and I glared at him as his gray eyes darkened to black coals. His stress and anger filled the air, and I scrunched my nose up and looked away from him. I heard him exhale loudly and curses softly. He came to stand in front of me, and I reluctantly gazed up at him.

"Granger, please let it go," he pleaded softly with me, his eyes closing and shutting together tightly. I wanted to touch him, to caress his cheek, but whenever I did that, he'd push me away.

Tears threatened to rise, but I swallowed down the feeling of rejection. "Draco, why are you pushing me away?"

"I'm not pushing you away. We're having sex still, aren't we? We're fucking talking right now, Granger. Tell me how I'm pushing you away."

"You won't let me touch you."

His eyes flashed open, and his face came closer to mine. I blinked twice, staring into his dark eyes as his full lips sneered irritably at me. "Because you always touch my fucking arm."

My brow furrowed, and I hastily grabbed a pillow, swinging it at his face. His head swung to the side, and he almost fell back onto the bed before he caught himself, one of his hands pressing into the mattress to keep himself upright while the other one cradled his jaw. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Hermione?" he screamed, and my anger almost melted when my first name fell from his lips. Almost.

I sat on my knees and glared at the blonde boy, who was staring at me incredulously. "I'm so sorry that I keep touching your arm, but you need to understand why I care so much! I just want your pain to be gone, and I want to do whatever I can to make it go away!"

His eyes softened, and he exhaled slowly. "You are helping. You're here right now, aren't you?" He smirked at me, and my anger began to dissolve. "You talk to me. You laugh at me. You distract me from the pain in my arm. Haven't we talked about this before?"

I scooted closer to him and gingerly laid my hand on his shoulder. I smiled inwardly when he relaxed into my touch. "I can't help it, Draco. I hate seeing you like this. Draco, you aren't eating. You don't talk to Blaise anymore. You don't play Quidditch. You don't even insult Ron and Harry anymore. That's how I know this arm is bothering you. If I'm such a sweet distraction, wouldn't my touch make you calmer?"

He shook his head and stared at me apologetically. "Not this time, Hermione. Not this arm. I can't bear to have you touch it. It's so evil, Hermione, and I don't want you associated with the evilness coursing through me."

I furrowed my brow, but he didn't explain. His aunt was the evil one. She was the one who put the curse on him. The curse didn't define who he was. Besides, I was sure it could be taken away. I researched many times, but it was hopeless. I couldn't research for a cure when I didn't even know the curse that was used.

His fingers ran gently through my mass of frizzy curls, and I sighed contently. "Granger, let it go. You can't help me." His voice was defeated, and his eyes were scrunched tightly together. He unknowingly rubbed his bandaged arm across his torso, as if he was trying to scratch away the curse. I wanted to burst into tears. Draco Malfoy had never looked so sick, so fearful, so defeated. He looked like he was giving up on life, and I couldn't let that happen. My job was to provide him an escape route, a fantasy where he didn't think of his curse arm or the problems it seemed to create in his life. I gently pushed Draco back onto the satin pillows, and I snuggled next to him. He sighed in relief and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer into his warm body heat. I traced patterns on his naked chest, loving the goosebumps that I formed on his skin. I, bookworm Hermione Granger, turned a boy on. It was scandalous.

"Slughorn invited me to his Christmas party," I announced quietly, not wanting to disturb any thoughts that were running through Draco's head. I puckered my lips and pressed a cold kiss to one of his pecs, and his arm flexed around my waist. I wanted to bring him back into the lightness. I wanted to take him out of that dark hole that he had fallen into.

"Who are you going with?" he asked monotonously, cracking an eye open to watch me.

I shrugged. "I was going to bring Ron-"

"Not that motherfucking tosser!"

"But I remembered that he was with Lavender," I continued as if I hadn't been rudely interrupted. "Plus, it would just be awkward for me. I'd feel like I was using him." I shivered from the unpleasant memories that brought up. I was ashamed of wanting to hide behind Ron because I couldn't openly be with Draco. I was willing to settle down with my best friend, my brother, so I didn't have to be criticized and shamed by society for being with Draco Malfoy.

Draco relaxed back into the bed and closed his eye again. "I don't care who you go with as long as it's not him."

"Can I go with you?"

"Granger, don't make me slap you."

I pouted and rolled my eyes, glaring at him as he opened his eyes to look at me. "You really are dense sometimes," he teased, and I lightly smacked him on the chest.

"All you had to do was say no."

He chuckled. "Why don't you go with Potter?"

My eyes lit up, but then I frowned as I remembered Ginny. "No, he'll probably ask someone else." I wasn't going to tell Draco how madly in love Harry and Ginny were. That was a juicy secret that Draco would not keep, and he'd laugh about it to everyone- including Ronald.

Draco scratched the back of his head, his brow furrowed, and I smiled inwardly. He really was cute sometimes. He reminded me of a little boy, with the way he concentrated on his work in class, biting his bottom lip and staring hard at the parchment. Sometimes, we'd play around with each other in the room, and he'd grin boyishly at me when he tickled me mercilessly. Or, when we'd just bathe in the aftermath of our bliss, and he'd look at me with his shy, light gray eyes, and a small smile on his beautiful lips. That's when the room blurred, and we seemed to be the only two people in the world. He looked at me adoringly, and he'd tuck some of my hair behind my ears. He'd kiss my cheeks, my nose, my forehead. He'd tell me how amazing he thought I was. He'd bite his lip playfully, trying not to laugh at me as I tried to stay awake and look at him. I always failed, though. He was able to stay awake much longer than me.

Sleep, Hermione. You're brain needs her beauty rest. He loves to tell me that.

Draco Malfoy was so playful, so caring, so sweet. He doted on me like I was a queen, like I was his Gryffindor Queen. He was a jokester, a trickster. He was sly with his touches, but oh so gentle with his kisses. Draco Malfoy had the most beautiful smile, his teeth flashing all pearly white. His smile was infectious; he didn't know it, but when he smiled, so did the entire Slytherin table. He usually was making fun of someone, but his cruel smile had the effect to cause everyone else to smile like him, to laugh at whoever the poor child was that was receiving Draco's bashing. Draco Malfoy was Hogwart's ultimate bully, but even that showed his good side, at least showed it to me. When people thought he walked the school like an arrogant, spoiled brat, I knew that he walked with confidence and grace, because he was raised to believe in himself and believe that he was the best. When people said he was rude and callous towards others, I agreed, but his rudeness and maliciousness displayed how opinionated he was and how he thought he was always right. I blushed in embarrassment whenever people called Draco a jerk; no one called me a jerk, but I did the same thing. I was rude to people who didn't have an ounce of knowledge in their brains. I loved intelligence. I loved learning. I unconsciously bashed on people who didn't take school and learning as serious as I did. I felt like people should free their house elves, and I openly showed my disgust at those who didn't believe in what I said or owned house elves themselves. I was opinionated, and I knew I was always right. Draco and I, we were two peas in a pod sometimes.

And as I lay here and watched him talk, watched as his eyes lit with excitement, watched as his lips formed and articulated his words properly, I knew there was no one else for me. Not only did Draco and I have passionate, sexual chemistry, but we were both smarter than these average teenagers. We were more mature, more intelligent. I was first in the class, but Draco was close behind me in second place. The only thing I didn't like was how he was brought up and raised. I didn't agree with the things his parents had taught him, the things he thought were the only truths in the world. I smiled, and he looked at me curiously. Draco Malfoy was sleeping with a muggleborn witch, the muggleborn witch. He had done it more than ten times. He did it every night, every morning, every chance he could get. I counted that as a step towards progress, a step towards his progress of living his own life, not the life his parents had created for him. Draco didn't know it, but I knew that he was moving towards being himself, not a product of Lucius and Narcissa. He was beginning to think for himself, to make his own judgements, to form his own opinions about the people in the wizarding community.

"What the bloody hell are you smiling about, Granger?" he asked softly, although a soft smile was tugging at the corners of his lips.

I shook my head and snugged closer to him, breathing in his masculine scent. "I'm proud of you."

He scoffed but tightened his arm around me. "I didn't do anything special but fuck you good. Are you proud because I can fulfill your needs?"

I flushed red, and he laughed loudly. I scowled playfully at him. "Don't be crude, you git. I'm just glad that you've decided to be yourself."

"Granger, I've always been myself. Do you think I've been trying to be Snape my entire life?"

"No. It's just, you aren't the same hateful bigot I met in first year. You've really grown out of that. You're starting to show your true colors, the colors that make up Draco Malfoy."

He smirked at me. "I do admit, I was a bit of an arse back then. I do apologize, Granger. I've been living in the shadow of my father this whole time. Anything he told me, I knew it was true. So, when he said muggleborns were dirty, I knew that I wasn't going to associate with them." He gazed down at me longingly, and my heart melted from the admiration shining in his eyes. "It took me to actually get to know you to realize how wrong my father was. He was wrong about a lot of things, Granger."

"So, you don't think I'm a mudblood anymore?"

He scoffed and pecked me softly on the nose. "I'm not sure I ever did. I was just saying the things my father told me. No, you aren't a mudblood. I don't know any mudbloods who are as skilled at magic as you are. Hell, I don't know any purebloods who are skilled like you. Father was so wrong about the blood stuff. I'm glad I realized it, too."

"Why are you glad?"

"Because then I wouldn't have known how amazing you are in bed."

I laughed with him and flicked his nose, and he grabbed my fingers, kissing them one by one. "I'm glad I'm figuring out who I really am, too Granger."

"And who might you be, Draco Malfoy?"

He smirked at me, although his eyes looked haunted. He rolled on top of me, and my breath left me as he stared down at me like a lion watching his next deer. "I'm a fucking Sex God, haven't you heard?"

I shook my head, and he leaned is weight down on me, a large grin playing on his face as his hands tangled themselves in my curls. "Seriously though Hermione," he said softly, "I don't have it all figured out yet. I can't say that I know who I truly am, but I can say that, ever since I've been with you, I've realized who I want to be.'

I smiled warmly at him. "And who do you want to be, Draco?"

The smile fell from his lips, and he gazed at me adoringly. "I want to be a man that you can be proud of. I want to be a man that you can trust and respect, and I want to be the man who will have you forever. If you'll let me."

And as he leaned down to kiss me deeply, I knew there was no way that I could love anyone other than Draco Malfoy.