What a wonderful reaction to the last chapter! Thank you for all your lovely reviews - I've tried to reply to all of you individually.

mhcalamas - OH EM GEE indeed.

Cleardiamond7 - Glad you're enjoying the story!

HeartOfAspen - I had so much fun writing that science-based conversation. Draco has much to learn.

Kyonomiko - Don't feel TOO bad for Draco, now. hahaha

Jamie - So happy you like the story! Hope you like what's to come.

Welcome to the Weasley wedding, everyone.

Morning light filtered in through the open window, bringing the sweet smell of summer air all around a sleeping figure curled in the sheets. Breathing in deeply, Draco floated into a blurry awareness. He wasn't sure why, but he had woken up with a smile on his face. Somehow, soft lips and wild curls came to mind. It had been such a nice dream…

Draco's eyes flew wide open. It hadn't been a dream. Hermione had really kissed him yesterday – twice! They had gone dancing and she had been wearing those deliciously tight muggle jeans and she…she…

She had made him cum in his pants. And she had cleaned it herself. Oh gods…

Draco stared straight up, willing himself not to look beside him. Hermione had willingly slept beside him last night, her soft curves pressed against him as he had drifted off into the best sleep he had gotten in months.

Gritting his teeth, he chanced a glance to his right, hoping against all hope that Hermione was still fast asleep.

Instead of a sleeping girl, he found the other side of his bed to be quite empty, the covers thrown must have left already. The warmth that had enveloped him as they slept had gone, the sheets now distinctly cool. Disappointment pooled in stomach. Embarrassment or not, he had been hoping for a good morning snog.

There was a knock at the door and Draco jumped to a sitting position. He scrambled to flip the covers so they looked undisturbed. The last thing he needed was some Weasley yelling at him for sleeping with the Golden Girl, even if all they did was sleep. Sort of.

"Come in," he called.

Hermione's face appeared in the doorway and she slipped into the bedroom. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Not a Weasley. Hermione had clearly woken up early to shower and get ready for the wedding. Her hair was piled atop her head in a messy knot and she had a tasteful amount of makeup applied to her face. The scant muggle attire from the night before had been traded for a fluffy blue dressing gown.

"Good morning," he offered, stretching his arms skyward.

"Good morning. Have a nice sleep? I know how much energy you spent late last night." She smirked knowingly and he returned in kind.

"Fantastic sleep, actually. Got a bit chilly at the very end, but the rest of the night was perfect." Hermione's cheeks turned rosy with pleasure; she crinkled her nose and eyes as her smirk turned to a genuine smile. She was so adorable in that moment, he could have kissed her silly. The look in her eyes told him that she may have been thinking along similar lines. As tempting as that seemed, with everyone running around, someone was more than likely to come bursting in. Probably not a great idea, then.

"So what brings you back to my bedside so early, Miss Granger?"

Hermione cleared her throat and gave a soft, "Oh!" as if she'd forgotten something. "That's right. I came in here because I have a present for you."

Draco swung his legs out over the side of the bed and leaned back, placing most of his weight on his arms. "A present? You gave me a lovely present last night, Hermione." He waggled his eyebrows for extra effect. Hermione's cheeks turned a deeper pink.

"Well yes, I suppose I did." Tucking a flyaway strand behind her ear, she glanced coyly up at him. "But I know we can do better, especially if you're a little more…patient."

Draco felt heat flood his face and the rest of his body, rushing to his groin. He wasn't sure if Hermione was trying to start something this morning; hadn't he just been worried that with the house bustling, the risk of a Weasley walking in on them was high? But then again, they could prove to be extra distracted…

Draco crossed his legs in an attempt to hide his burgeoning erection.

Hermione's eyes followed the movement of his lower half and chuckled. "As much as I would love to right now, this is different. Better, perhaps."

"Better than sex? I doubt that," Draco chuckled. She stuck her tongue out at him. That seemed to be one of her favorite actions. He could certainly think of other things he'd love to do with her pretty pink tongue.

Shaking her head, Hermione surged forward to sit beside him. Draco felt the fuzzy bathrobe brush against his arm and had to resist leaning in for a cuddle. There was a moment where it seemed their light-hearted flirting might continue, but when Hermione shifted her body to face him, her expression was somber. Draco managed to adjust the sudden shift in mood, tilting his head in anticipation.

Hermione swallowed. "I…I wanted to come up with a way for us to always be able to communicate. Even if we – even if I'm not with you."

Draco nodded along with hesitation, sure that the other shoe was about to drop. When the girl beside him said nothing, he took a breath and attempted to fill the tense air between them.

"Is there a particular reason you wouldn't be with me? Aren't I your ward? McGonagall's orders and all that."

"It's…it's complicated." Hermione fidgeted, keeping her eyes trained downward.

Draco leaned forward, moving his arms so his elbows rested on his thighs. From this vantage point, he could see Hermione's lovely face, no longer hidden behind a curtain of curls. He watched as she licked her lips, scrunching her expression. "I guess I can understand if certain things are…confidential. But can you at least give me a bare bones explanation?"

She shifted, still not looking up. Draco watched her shoulders move up and down as she took deep breaths. The sweet summer air in the bedroom had grown heavy, and Draco felt his own breathing becoming labored. Silence hung around them for several long moments, and when Hermione began to speak, the words came tumbling out of her mouth in a hurry.

"Harry, Ron, and I are going to be leaving soon. I'm not sure when we will be coming back, or even when we'll be in contact with anyone again. We've got something to do, and I can't elaborate more than that, so please don't ask me to."

Anguish radiated from her as she spoke; it became especially apparent in her last words as she practically begged him not to question her. Draco bit his tongue to prevent himself from responding too soon. Hermione's words swirled in his head as her voice faded.

Leaving soon…not sure when we will be coming back…can't elaborate…

Draco's stomach bottomed out. He had been afraid of this. All of the whispering that Potter, Weasley, and Hermione had been doing behind closed doors; all of the knowing glances; all of the secrets kept... As the silence following her words grew, his attitude soured, his jaw tightening. Negative thoughts began to swirl around his head, the poison from these ideas filtering through his body to his clenched fists.

Of course she was leaving him. Why would she stay? She was the golden boy's sidekick and of course she would choose to stick by him rather than hang behind with poor, sad, branded Draco Malfoy. Of course.

But what really irked him more than her impending departure – which, when he thought about it, wasn't all that surprising – was her unwillingness to tell him anything. After she had poured her heart out to him on multiple occasions…after he had shown her his vulnerable side…after they had been so physically close…not even a hint? Didn't she trust him? Was he even worthy of trust in her eyes? Draco's jaw tensed further as darkness encroached on his entire being.

Hermione took another breath and looked up at him, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. The sour feeling in his stomach immediately dissipated and was instead replaced with shame. He was such an arsehole for making this about him. Sure, it was partially about him, but she wasn't his. She wasn't his girlfriend. Was she? A teardrop spilled from her eye and onto the back of her hand. She was crying over this? Perhaps – he dared to hope – over him?

Hermione reached out and grabbed his right hand, bringing it up to her lips. "I'm going to have to leave you here with the Weasleys. I know they're not your favorite family, but please, give them a chance. I wish I could stay, but I just…I can't. It'll be harder than I care to admit. I…I'm going to miss you, Draco," she whispered as her lips grazed his palm.

Draco shivered. He tried to find the words to say something…anything…even a poorly timed joke about how cumming in his pants was surely better than this. Anything to relieve the tension. But the words couldn't form, so he just stayed silent.

"I need you to stay here and stay safe. That won't be possible if you come with us."

Draco found himself nodding along in agreement, though the action felt hollow.

A short breath. A swallow. More silence.

Draco grimaced, trying to push the conversation forward. "You said something about a present?"

Hermione sat up and smiled. "Right, yes." She reached into her beaded bag and pulled from it a chestnut-coloured, leather bound book, placing it in his hands. Draco snorted.

"Only you would give me a book as a farewell present to someone you just snogged yesterday." Draco cracked a smile and Hermione elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

"It's a special journal that I've enchanted," Hermione explained. "I have an identical version – a twin to this one, if you will." She gestured to her beaded bag. "Whenever we want to contact each other, we can use a password of our choosing to unlock the contents of the journal."

Hermione paused, raising her eyebrows higher above her soft chocolate gaze as if confirming that he was listening. He nodded hastily, urging her to continue. "I've also cast a modified Confundus charm so that if anyone else looks at it without our permission, all they'll see are potions notes. This way we'll be able to write to each other without fear of prying eyes."

She paused again, placing the journal into his hands. "Well…what do you think? You will write, won't you?"

Draco flipped through the empty pages and snapped the book shut. "It's brilliant. You're brilliant, Hermione. Of course I'll write. Every day, if you like."

Hermione laughed. "That's what Ron and Harry used to promise me during the summers. Never came to pass. As long as you write regularly, it'll be fine."

"And what would you like me to write? Sappy love poems?"

"Anything you want to tell me is fine. Just don't write something stupid like Ginny wrote to Harry during second year."

Draco smirked. "Oh, gods. I remember that. Took the mickey out of Potter for it. What did she write, again?"

"I don't think Harry or Ginny would be terribly pleased if I reminded you of the specifics," she shot him a reproachful look. "But I do recall that she compared his eyes to a pickled frog."

"Toad."

"What?"

"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad…" he began in a sing-songy voice, mischief glinting is his eyes.

"Draco!" Hermione covered Draco's mouth with her hand, panic in her eyes. "Don't you dare let those two catch you singing that song. You know how Ginny is with her bat bogey hex."

Draco put his hands up in surrender. "All right, you win. I won't mess with the lovebirds. But seriously," he said, holding up the journal, "this is incredible. A real clever bit of magic. I won't waste it."

He looked back up at her, a grin spread on his face. She returned a smile. Draco felt the previous tension melt away, his eyes still glued to hers.

"I have one more present for you."

From her bathrobe pocket she withdrew his hawthorn wand. Draco looked from it to Hermione's face and back again, his mouth agape. She took hold of his free hand and placed the wand it in his palm, closing his fingers around it with her other hand.

The familiar, smooth weight of his wand was immediately comforting. Channeled magic coursed through his veins, pulsing and bringing him life. Draco felt a sense of wholeness, as though a missing part of his arm had returned to his body. In all honestly, he had assumed that he may never see his wand again. At least until the war was over. He had accepted his fate, that he may live for years in a wandless state. To have it in his grasp again seemed a miracle. Hermione had given that miracle to him. He felt like a wizard again.

She did trust him. She trusted him without question.

Draco's heart swelled.

He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Hermione, holding onto her as though she was his rock. He searched for the words to express the weight of his emotions. Yet, for all he was feeling, all he could choke out was a short and weak, "Thank you."

Hermione's hands reached up to cup his face lovingly. Her motions brought their eyes merely inches apart, on perfect level with each other. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his own. Her chocolate eyes gazed into his and for a moment it seemed as though he could see into her very soul.

"Thank you," he repeated, his voice fuller this time.

Though he couldn't see the rest of her face, Draco saw her eyes crinkle and knew she must be smiling. Setting the wand at his side, he leaned forward and closed what was left of the tiny gap between them, his lips meeting hers in a kiss. This kiss wasn't desperate, anxious, or tentative, but instead sweet and slow and full of so much Draco wasn't even sure he could articulate. Her lips felt soft against his own and the way they moved made him feel as though he could fall to his knees with want and affection. He wished there was no wedding to prepare for – no time when they would have to part – no war going on just so they could remain like this forever.

"Hem! Hem!"

Draco cursed loudly as someone cleared their throat; they sprang apart and whipped around. Draco discreetly stuffed his wand under the pillow. Standing in the doorway were Fred and George Weasley in their pyjamas. Each twin leaned against a side of the doorpost, eyebrows raised and identical smug grins painting their faces.

"Well, Freddie, what have we here?"

"It appears as though our lovely Miss Granger was snogging the ferret, dear brother,"

"Tut tut. So naughty, wouldn't you say?"

"Indeed. And on the morning of the big wedding when they should be helping out? Our poor mother would be scandalized, wouldn't she?"

"Oh, shut it, you two," Hermione snapped, standing up. Draco scowled at the twins.

"I was under the impression you fancied our dear ickle Ronnekins," George said, crossing his arms.

Draco watched with interest as Hermione shifted awkwardly. This was something that had crossed his mind more than once. He knew that at some point she clearly had feelings for the Weasel, but the thought of her holding onto those feelings made him want to crush something with his bare hands. As he watched her mind whir, he began to feel a little nauseous.

Hermione looked back at him, reassurance in her expression.

"That may have been true at one point, but it's not anymore. I have eyes for someone else now," Hermione beamed at him, and he forgot to breathe for a moment. She brought her gaze back to the twins. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't go around telling everyone that I'm seeing Draco. You can imagine how…difficult that might get."

The twins shrugged.

"We may not get it," said Fred.

"But we'll try to trust you, Hermione," finished George.

"We might not fully like the ferret,"

"But you're good in our book."

"Thanks," Hermione replied. "Now if the three of you will excuse me, I have to go help Fleur get ready." Without another word she swept from the room.

Draco gave a curt nod to the twins. They folded their arms, their expressions solemn.

"We promise not to say anything, Malfoy," said George, "but if you hurt Hermione, we've got some particularly nasty products in development that we'd love to slip you."

"I'd watch your pumpkin juice if I were you."

Draco blanched.

"She's too good for you. Hell, she's too good for any bloke."

"Yeah, I know." Draco sighed and watched as the Weasley twins left, standing and closing the door behind him. The moment they were gone, he collapsed back onto his bed, journal in one hand, his wand clutched in the other. He replayed Hermione's words over and over in his head.

"I have eyes for someone else now."

Draco flipped over onto his stomach and grinned into his pillow.

The wedding ceremony came and went in a pleasant fashion. Fleur made for the loveliest of brides, and Hermione sighed sweetly at Bill when he caught sight of her floating down the aisle like a goddess. Everyone beamed and a good number of people had tears in their eyes – especially, to no one's surprise, Mrs. Weasley. Even Draco seemed to watch with interest; Hermione had observed the smallest of smiles tugging at his lips during the ceremony.

Hermione had been quite surprised to see Viktor at the wedding. They had always been on good terms, so his presence didn't bother her in the slightest. In fact, she was rather excited to see him after such a long while. He had been her first kiss and well…he held a special place in her heart because of it. Viktor's presence did, however, seem to bother Ron and Draco. Ron had turned his usual shade of red and spouted some rude words. Draco had worn the signature Malfoy scowl, which was unmistakable despite the Polyjuice potion he had taken. Seeing a curly, redheaded Draco gave Hermione a mild fit of the giggles. Those giggles only worsened when the scowl turned especially sour after her exaggerated reaction to Viktor's arrival.

Other than the Ron's and Draco's attitudes, the day had been rather idyllic. It was a lovely escape from the war happening around them.

Yes, this wedding was nearly perfect, but the truly perfect escape had happened the night before. Draco in a leather jacket dancing with her at the pub…Draco riding a bike with a grin on his face…Draco kissing her neck with his supple lips, his hips pushing against hers…

Hermione's cheeks turned pink as memories of the night before rushed back.

She glanced over at Draco – cousin Sam Weasley at the moment – and smiled. He picked at food on his plate from his place across the round table where they were seated with the Lovegoods. As she took a bite of her supper, the desire to kiss him again bubbled inside her, threatening to surface. That being said, she wasn't sure how she felt about kissing cousin Sam. Perhaps later tonight when the Polyjuice wore off…

Hermione was so lost in thoughts of Draco's lips that she became quite flustered when Viktor took a seat at the table out of the blue. Even though she was no longer a dewy-eyed fourteen-year-old, his presence still seemed to affect her like she was. From the moment the Quidditch star sat down, both Ron and Draco looked like they wanted to strangle something. Hermione tried to shoot a reassuring look at Draco, but her attempt was interrupted by an unexpected invitation.

"Come and dance," Ron said suddenly.

"Oh. Oh!" Hermione blinked as she processed the request. It took a moment for her brain to catch up with the rest of her senses. Smiling affectionately, she took the hand Ron offered, her mind still a bit jumbled from the abrupt offer. She could feel Draco's eyes trained on her as Ron led her to the dance floor. Mere weeks ago, the feel of her hand in Ron's and his invitation to dance would have thrilled her from top to bottom. Granted, it was still a sweet and comforting feeling to be there with him as he grabbed hold of her waist. He was feigning confidence so well – Hermione could tell he was trying to project boldness, but she still saw the hesitancy in his eyes.

"Oh, Ron," she sighed and laughed, giving his hand a squeeze as they began to dance. He shot a grin back at her.

Dancing with Ron was perfectly lovely. He was doing his best not to step on her toes, and he grinned from ear to ear as they danced song after song. But where her heart had once leapt at that smile, she only felt a contented feeling in her chest – one that she associated strongly with Harry.

During one particular jig, the tempo and melody reminded her so strongly of the night before that if she closed her eyes, she could practically imagine herself back at the pub, dancing in Draco's arms rather than Ron's. Now that she had danced with both young men, she knew which one made her heart pound and her skin tingle with anticipation.

No, that butterfly feeling for Ron is gone, she thought as she caught Draco's eye. Fairies fluttered in her stomach as grey met brown. He continued to stare at her, and he wore an odd expression. Hermione would have thought that expression would be filled with jealousy or hunger or even anger. But his face played out something far deeper– something that made Hermione's breath catch in her throat as Ron twirled her around.

Love.

She knew that look – she had seen it in movies, had seen it between her parents, and had even seen a glimpse of it between Harry and Ginny. Draco watched her unblinkingly, his lips slightly parted and his eyes so soft they were almost unrecognizable – like she could melt into them. In his expression she could see affection and admiration and so much more that she knew he might not be able to express with words. But she saw it. Love. It was unmistakable.

She had to speak to Draco. A funny feeling had taken hold in the pit of her stomach; it gnawed away at her with a sense of urgency, telling her that if she didn't seek him out immediately, the opportunity might slip from her fingers.

"Ron," Hermione interjected as they waltzed, her eyes returning to her best friend's blue ones, "I'm sure you're expected to dance with some family members tonight. Am I right?"

Ron winced, and she took the out. "I'm going to grab some fresh air. See you in a bit, all right?"

Ron looked briefly disappointed at the interruption of their dance, but he nodded and gave her hand a squeeze before disappearing into the crowd. Hermione turned to find Draco still watching her. His red curls had started to return to their usual silvery blonde, but he was so fixated on her that he hardly seemed to have noticed. With a flick of her head, she gestured toward the outside of the tent. Draco seemed to understand; he stood and walked toward the exit as well, his eyes never leaving her.

It was to Draco's advantage that the party was in full swing, because by the time he poked his head into the night air, his hair had turned noticeably blonder. Only lingering outside the tent long enough to ensure he had seen her, Hermione smiled over her shoulder and motioned for him to follow her before walking into the night. Away from the hustle and bustle of the reception they crept, making their way beyond the orchard and into a secluded part of the Weasley property littered with old trees. She moved just out of his reach, ducking under stray branches, beckoning him forward in their little game of cat and mouse. Draco followed her, a grin painted on his face and a growl on his lips whenever she would evade his touch by mere inches. The closer he got, the more her stomach swooped.

Back and forth Hermione weaved through the trees, her laugh echoing through the warm summer air as Draco pursued her. Their game continued as they moved deeper into the woods, anticipation building in every muscle each time she caught his eye. He was clearly determined to catch her, but not so determined that he would stop allowing her to tease him. Confidence bloomed inside her; she had the power to make Draco Malfoy follow her into the unknown with a mere glance.

The next time she turned around to flash a grin at him, she found herself face-to-face – or rather, face-to-chest – with Draco, their bodies separated by no more than a foot. For some reason, despite being in close contact with him so many times, Hermione found herself trembling at his proximity. Swallowing, she looked up to find Draco's eyes boring into hers, his pupils dancing. The expression he wore matched what she had seen earlier in the tent.

Love.

His right arm reached out and wrapped around Hermione's waist, pulling them gently together. She braced herself against his chest, her eyes never leaving his. Hermione could practically see his mind whirring, trying to find the right words to say in a moment like this. Despite baring his soul to her previously, she had a feeling that the words he was searching for carried a high risk. She knew Draco Malfoy to be self-preserving, so this attempt at emotional vulnerability would surely fill him to the brim with stress.

Hermione Granger knew his heart. He may not be able to say all that he meant, but his eyes said it all.

So instead of waiting for him, she reached up and held his face in her hands.

Draco quivered under her touch.

"I know," she whispered. "What you feel…I feel it too."

Draco's eyebrows rose a millimeter, his mouth opening slightly. Without a word, he removed her hands from his face, planting a feather-light kiss on each of her palms.

Slowly, he began to back them up, his eyes fixed solely on her. Hermione wasn't sure where they were headed, but in that moment, all that seemed to matter was not blinking – not tearing her eyes away from Draco's. His eyes, normally so cool and calculating were filled with warmth and adoration.

With a soft thump, her back hit a rather large willow tree and Draco only hesitated a moment before bending down and pressing his soft lips against hers. It was absolute heaven, and Hermione felt the herself falling to pieces with each little nip at her mouth. He swept her up in his arms and consumed her as their bodies crushed together; there was hardly an inch of her that couldn't feel him. Everything surrounding her was Draco – his scent, his touch, his taste…she couldn't get enough. Draco, Draco, Draco.

And then their hands were everywhere in a frenzy – his rubbing against her breasts and hers on his beautifully sculpted arse. His torso now pressed deliciously close to hers. While she was sure Draco was enjoying the rather thin fabric of her dress, his dress robes were rather cumbersome, leaving practically everything to the imagination.

That simply wouldn't do.

As Draco pressed even closer, a moan escaped his mouth. Instead of returning the pleasurable noise, Hermione found herself growling with frustration, her hands moving to the buttons on Draco's outer robes. She had to get closer – to get better access. She had to feel him the same way he could feel her.

Draco broke their kiss only for a moment as she fumbled with his buttons. When her fingers slipped, he gave a little chuckle as his lips reconnected with her pouting mouth. He gently removed her hands, undoing the buttons himself.

In no time at all, the offending garment fell to the ground in a heap, leaving him in a button down and trousers. Hermione's hands immediately returned to their place on his arse. Her pulse increased considerably when she realized just how much of him she could now feel. His chest was taut and masculine and felt absolutely incredible pushed against her breasts. And his arse…without robes blocking her, she felt its perfect shape for the first time.

Draco's hands trailed down until they rested on her hips, drawing their entire bodies flush against each other. Hermione found herself completely lost in a swirl of lips and caresses. Deft fingers worked button by blasted button on his dress shirt, peeling it from his chest and shoulders and bringing them even closer. She could feel Draco's arousal through his trousers, and she reached down to palm him over the fabric.

"Hermione," he groaned, biting her lip as he pulled away. Hermione gasped at the loss of contact, her eyes closing.

Though she treaded in unfamiliar territory, the feeling of Draco's eyes on her gave her confidence.

Wordlessly, she drew her wand from a holster on her thigh – Draco's eyebrows shot skyward – and cast a Notice-Me-Not charm on the surrounding space followed by a cushioning charm on the tree behind her. Not breaking eye contact, Hermione placed her wand gently at her feet beside her beaded bag. When she stood up straight once more, she took a deep breath and reached behind to her back to find her dress zipper.

Draco took a step forward as the zipper reached her hips. His eyes were full of questions, but Hermione's nod gave him all the answers he needed. With careful hands, he took the capped sleeves of her summery dress and lowered them down her arms. The dress slipped off smoothly, pooling at her feet. Hermione stepped out of the garment, reaching behind herself once more to undo her bra.

Hermione watched in nervous anticipation as Draco drank in her near-naked form. His eyes seemed to trace her whole body from her toes upward. He paused for a long while at her breasts and Hermione fought the urge to cover up.

"You are so bloody gorgeous," Draco said, reaching out to place his hand gently on her bare breast. His touch was so light; his fingers grazed her nipple. "So soft…it's like silk." Hermione hummed involuntarily and leaned into the touch so that his whole palm would engulf her. Waves of desire crashed over her and she wanted to reach out and touch the gorgeous man who stood before her.

"I…I want to see you," she murmured to him, pulling on his buckle. Draco smiled lightly and had his trousers off in moments, pulling his shorts down as well. Hermione had never seen a man naked before, save for a diagram in a book her mother had given her when she was fourteen that she had dismissed as utterly embarrassing. But now, standing before Draco and soaking in his form, she didn't feel embarrassed at all.

Draco Malfoy was a work of beauty and she wanted nothing more than to feel every inch of him.

Trying not to think too much, Hermione pulled her own knickers down and kicked them away.

The two teenagers stood facing each other, the air between them thick with anticipation.

"Draco, I – " Hermione tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out.

"I know," he said, smirking. "What you feel – I feel it, too."

He was repeating her own words back to her. Hermione chuckled as she looked at the man standing before her, but the laughter immediately died when she saw the intensity of his gaze return, a blaze in his silver eyes. The look sent a thrill straight through her and she could practically feel her core pulsing. There was only one way she wanted this to end, and as the Gryffindor, she knew she had to be the one to take the chance. Taking a breath, she stepped toward him.

"I want you, Draco Malfoy."

A pregnant pause passed, the atmosphere pulsating with magic, and then Draco was all over her, his arms encircling her waist and his pelvis grinding against hers. They both moaned with pleasure as Draco walked her backward toward the tree once again. His hands traveled down and cupped her sex lovingly. Hermione whimpered at the contact, her hips jerking forward automatically.

"So wet…so ready," Draco murmured as he suckled on her neck.

"Please," she cried as the pressure from his hand increased.

"Have you ever…?" he pulled back momentarily, his eyes searching hers.

"No. You?" she asked, hoping the uncertainty in her voice wasn't showing. Draco shook his head. Hermione couldn't help the grin that spread on her face at those words. She wrapped her arms around his neck, dragging his body against hers. "Be my first, won't you?"

Draco leaned down and touched his lips to hers. "Only if you'll be mine," he whispered, leaning their foreheads together. If there had been any lingering impression that Draco Malfoy was nothing but a cruel, inhumane boy, those thoughts disappeared permanently with those words. Left in his place was just Draco, whose thoughtful, vulnerable, and witty nature stole her heart and made her body quiver.

They met once again, lips and limbs tangling together. Hermione broke the kiss, if only for a moment, to watch the silver in his eyes disappear as they dilated with lust. Heat pooled between her thighs, and her hips gave an involuntary thrust. Immediately, Draco attacked her once more and hoisted her legs around his waist. The tip of his cock bobbed against her entrance

Hermione nodded and swallowed as Draco searched her eyes one last time.

"Yes," she murmured in the moment before he pushed into her. The sensation of him filling her was overwhelming, and she felt herself stretch. It was an odd feeling – not necessarily completely pleasurable, but somehow delicious and incredibly intimate. Draco, on the other hand, had his eyes closed, his mouth hanging open in pleasure.

With great effort, it seemed, he opened his eyes and managed to ask, "OK?"

Hermione moved hand from his shoulder to his face. "Please, Draco. Move."

He withdrew almost completely and then filled her again. This time, the pleasure began to build and they both groaned. The noise seemed to encourage Draco, who began to pump in and out at a steady pace. His face was twisted with pleasure and Hermione felt heat rush through her whole body as she watched him disappear into her again and again. This feeling of wholeness…of completeness…this is what intimacy was supposed to feel like – she just knew. Her lips found his and any sort of disconnect that had ever existed between them melted away. All that mattered was the mounting pleasure in her abdomen.

The friction at their connection point was delicious, and Hermione's lower stomach began to tighten like rope pulled taut. Draco continued to thrust, his movements becoming wilder by the second. He was panting, and when Hermione readjusted her grip on his back, she found it to be covered in a thin layer of sweat.

"Her…mione…I think…I'm gonna – "

His thrusts grew erratic and frantic and the friction between her legs heightened until the rope inside her snapped. She felt herself contracting around Draco's cock as he continued to pump into her, and she moaned and closed her eyes. This seemed to have an effect on Draco, who gave a grunt moments later, his thrusts deep and slow.

When he stilled, Draco peeled his eyes open and smiled lazily. He kissed her soundly once, twice, three times, before withdrawing from her and setting her back down on two feet. Her legs wobbled, and when she looked down, she saw his semen running down her leg.

"Uh, here," Draco stammered, reaching down to retrieve his shirt. He shifted on his knees and clumsily wiped her thighs with care, looking up at her to smile as he worked. Hermione blushed – this almost seemed far more intimate than what they had just done.

When he finished, Draco dropped the shirt and stood, only to envelope his arms around her, pressing their bodies flush once more. Hermione felt Draco turn so his mouth grazed her earlobe, and she shivered as he began to speak.

"I want to tell you not to go, Hermione. I wish that I could ask that of you. I wish we could just live our whole bloody lives under this one damn tree if it meant there wasn't a war and we could stay together."

She felt Draco swallow and heard his breath hitch. "But I can't do that to you, Granger. If there is ever going to be an end to this goddamn war, it's going to hinge on you and the brainless duo. Merlin knows they can't do it on their own."

Hermione chuckled as Draco pulled back and held her at arm's length.

"So don't worry about me when the time comes – just do what you have to do. I'll be fine here. Just promise me one thing, okay, Hermione?"

Draco's eyes were shining with emotion as he bent down to fish something out of his trousers, discarded in a heap on the forest floor. Hermione watched with curiosity as he withdrew something tiny clutched in his palm. His expression in that moment was so earnest that it made her heart clench. When he stood again, he opened his palm to reveal two pebbles.

Hermione tilted her head. Pebbles?

"I was inspired by your journal earlier," he started. "The journals can convey messages, but we may not always be in circumstances where writing is plausible. That's why I enchanted these this afternoon."

Hermione surveyed the pebble in her palm, rolling it around with her thumb as Draco continued.

"If you ever miss me or are thinking of me or anything, just give this a squeeze in your right hand and the other one will warm up. See?" Draco closed his fist around his pebble and almost immediately, Hermione felt a soft warmth radiate across her hand. She tried the same with her pebble and watched as Draco's face lit up.

"I love it. Thank you, Draco."

They stood there under the tree, the music from the party wafting through the air, completely naked from head to toe for another moment before Hermione swallowed and eyed her dress, now crumpled and wrinkly in the grass.

"We should, erm…probably get back to the reception." Draco nodded.

As they redressed, Hermione peeked at Draco over her shoulder. He seemed to think alike, because they ended up making eye contact at the same time. The two grinned at each other, his trousers two-thirds on and her dress completely unzipped. Somehow, it all felt natural. It didn't seem to matter that they had never done this before or that they had moved from enemies to friends to lovers at such a rapid pace. When Hermione had straightened Draco's hair and he had Scourgified her dress in return, they began to stroll back to the tent.

Draco laced his fingers through hers as they sauntered, and all felt right with the world. As the tent came into view, Draco reached into his robe pocket and withdrew a vial.

"Well, love, cousin Sam Weasley must make his grand return." He raised the potion slightly and downed it in one. After only a momentary twitch on his face, Draco smiled and turned toward the party, letting go of Hermione's hand.

But she wasn't ready to let go. Just as his fingers brushed the edges of hers, Hermione clasped their hands and pulled him back to her, crashing her lips into his. Draco Malfoy's lips hadn't transformed yet, and so she closed her eyes as blond turned to fiery red, savoring one more moment with this boy who made her heart sing.

And when she opened her eyes, cousin Sam stood before her once more.

"Come on, then," she said. "Or people will start wondering where we've disappeared to."

It wasn't until several hours later, after Kingsley's patronus had interrupted the wedding, after she had barely escaped danger – twice – with Harry and Ron, after she had a moment to catch her breath on a sofa in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, that she managed to pull Draco's pebble from her beaded bag. Immediately, she felt warmth radiate from it and she breathed a sigh of relief.

He was alive. He was safe.

She squeezed her pebble in turn.

And wherever Draco had fled to with the Weasleys that night, she knew at that moment, he felt the same momentary release of worry.

Hermione clung to her pebble, even after she settled onto the sofa, and held it to her heart as she drifted into the first of many fitful nights of sleep.

And there you have it.

Smut. So much smut.

I know some of you wanted Draco to be along for the ride, but Hermione just knew that adding another hot temper to the mix wouldn't be conducive for the task ahead.

Fear not, though. We haven't seen the last of Draco. Not by a long shot.

As to official business, I am in graduate school, and we have Spring Break this coming week. I need a bit of a mental break, so I will not be posting the next two weeks. But never fear! I swear that I will have the next chapter up on March 16. If I'm feeling really ambitious, it may come on March 9, but I won't guarantee it.

Thank you for understanding, my lovely readers.