A/N: I own nothing but the plot! Enjoy!

Warning: Explicit sexual content.

To Feel Something

Hermione felt her heart rate quickening as she slid the striped green tie from his neck. His lips were moving slowly but hungrily across her jawline, her hair balled up in his fist as she undid his shirt and ran her hands over the skin underneath. He released his grip on her curls and let his shirt fall to the ground, where his pants and sweater were already discarded. His fingers fumbled with the buttons on her shirt as he pressed his lips to hers in a lingering, taunting kiss, her hand pulling at the waist of his boxers impatiently. This is what she'd looked forward to all week; her escape, her break from the monotony; her separation from the bleakness that had invaded her life in the last few months.

He was struggling with a particularly stubborn button and she huffed in annoyance, "Do you want me to get that for you?" Her words came out in a breathy whisper. She was seated on an old desk, with him standing between her legs, in a broom closet on the seventh floor and the light was dim overhead as she locked eyes with him. They were a steel grey tonight and there was a dark look behind them, not in a sinister way, but in a very appealing way. One that resonated how she felt.

"I've got it just fine, Granger," he snipped back, pulling a bit too hard on the button as it broke off of her shirt.

She closed her eyes for a moment as he paused, "Are you kidding me, Malfoy."

"Shit," he muttered, looking down at the button before he threw it to the side, "Whatever, just fix it later," he captured her lips with his again as he moved on to the next button and she bit his bottom lip, gently, but pointedly and each successive button undid smoothly from there. His tongue pushed into her mouth and she moaned against him as she felt him smirk. She didn't care. His arrogance was almost an added bonus to what she wanted from him.

His lips were intoxicating; forbidden and off limits. It's what made her feel so alive. It's what made her feel anything at all. At the beginning of their seventh year after the Battle of Hogwarts, which they'd all returned for, Ron had been paired up with Millicent Bulstrode, of all people, for a partner in potions. Not two weeks into term, Hermione had caught them shagging in a classroom when they were supposedly 'doing homework.' He'd tried to come up with some excuse, running out after her with his pants around his ankles, but it had been too late. Years of envisioning a future together with Ron to have spent only a couple of months dating him had numbed her to the idea of love. Not to mention the toll the war had taken on her mentally.

His lips were at her neck again and she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her as he sucked gently, and very intentionally, on the sensitive part of her skin. She knew she was strong and that she would continue to move forward from the events of the war, but the picture of bodies strewn about the castle at the Battle of Hogwarts and the curses she'd endured and used in that battle had changed her. It had impacted everyone differently, but they all felt some degree of unbalance afterwards. To make matters worse, she still hadn't been able to locate her parents again and had gotten to a point deep down where she'd almost accepted she never would. She'd confided in Ron, trusted him to heal with her, and he'd turned out to be the biggest disappointment of them all.

He'd even had the audacity to tell the rest of their friends that the end of their relationship was due to Hermione's insecurities and instability so the whole house was tip toeing around her. He'd been too much of a coward to take responsibility, or too embarrassed to admit he'd been with Millicent Bulstrode. And she'd been too angry to even give his story the time of day. Harry hadn't returned for the extended year, being recruited to the Auror Department early, so she didn't even have him to level with. And so, she'd learned to turn it all off. Feel nothing, show nothing. Just move through the motions to make it through the year until she could graduate and get away from the confines of the castle.

But this…, Draco opened her shirt, his cold hands running along her skin like he'd never touched her before, this made her feel again. It made her heart race, it made her muscles tense, it made her senses awaken.

But he'd touched her plenty of times at this point. Almost weekly now since that weekend after she'd broken up with Ron. It all started with a night of drinking alone in Hogsmeade when he'd shown up, his usual self making snarky comments, mixed with lewd suggestions as to how to get back at Ron. She hadn't minded. She felt like she had nothing, maybe a good shag with Malfoy would give her some sense of power over the anger and betrayal she felt. It had been a shock as to how right she had been. It was everything she needed and he was like a drug now; One she kept at a distance, only allowing herself to give in once a week, but he felt like the most addicting thing in the world.

A low growl elicited from his throat as he slid his hand over her breast, exposed due to the fact that she'd decidedly not put on a bra that evening. His mouth moved down to her chest as her fingers wound tightly into his hair. His hands slipped back down, moving up her thighs now and bunching up her skirt underneath her as they did so. She could feel him against her as he stood back up straight and it took everything in her not to beg him to just do it already. He liked to play with her first, liked to see his effect on her. She knew she was flushed, he'd enjoy that. His thumb brushed over the top of her underwear and he watched her as she tilted her head against the wall and clenched her hand around his shoulder.

"Tell me you want it, Granger," he teased her, "I need to hear you say it."

"I can't stand you," she breathed as she fluttered her eyes open to see the gleam in his. She squeezed his shoulder harder in excitement.

"Tell me what I need to hear," he said evenly, knowing full well that she would do as he said.

She took a deep breath and tried to say it with as much dignity as she could, "Tonight, I'm yours," she felt herself blush harder at the words, but he'd told her the first time they'd been together that it's what he wanted to hear.

"I think you're missing a part," he said as he slipped her panties down her legs and let them fall before removing his boxers to join them.

"Tonight, I am yours, Draco," she enunciated the words.

"That's right you are," Draco pulled her face to his and kissed her fiercely as he positioned himself in front of her. He pushed his hips forward and she inhaled sharply as he filled her.

As he pulled back and pushed forward again, her mouth fell open and her head dropped back, hands finding whatever part of his body they could get ahold of. Somehow fucking Draco Malfoy had become the only thing in the world that made sense. It was the first thing in her life that didn't need to be anything more than it was. They used each other to feel something in a world that felt darker than it should after the light won. She knew why it did for him, of course. He'd been on the other side. His past was darker than most and it seemed as if he were just trying to get through the year with his head high and move past it all as well. He strutted arrogantly around like all was normal, but he lacked the malice he used to hold. That much she could tell.

The feeling of him moving inside her had them both trying to keep their voices down. Draco had one hand braced on the wall next to Hermione's head and the other had found its way to trace her throat. She swallowed hard, opening her eyes to meet his and doing her best not to melt from that burning gaze. His hand tightened around her throat slightly; Tight enough to feel the adrenaline, and her breath came unevenly as she reached out to grip his forearm. She knew it was the one with the Dark Mark still imprinted there and chills erupted down her spine as she tried to push that from her mind. His grip tightened again before loosening as he stroked his fingers lightly down her neck in a way that was almost affectionate. His hand moved back into her hair as she sighed heavily. Draco knew how to touch her like she was a woman and not a fragile piece of glass and she couldn't have been more thankful. He pushed into her hard again, "Draco," his name fell from her lips without a second thought and Draco had to fight down the urge that crept up inside him to finish this right there.

The sound of footsteps and conversation could be heard on the other side of the door and they froze, Draco covering Hermione's mouth with his hand and holding his own breath. They stayed there for a few moments as the footsteps grew louder and then softer again, turning around the corner down the hall.

Hermione swatted his hand away, closing her eyes to take a breath before opening them to see a cocky look on Draco's face, "Feels so good you almost gave us away."

"Get over yourself," she pulled his neck back towards her and kissed him hard, his bottom lip caught between hers as he started moving again, slowly at first as his tongue teased hers softly and his hand gripped her waist. He'd needed a reason to slow down anyway, make sure she got what she came there for. She pulled back, her eyes heavy with lust from his change in pace.

"Fuck," he breathed, watching her reaction. He pulled his hand back to steady them on the desk. The way she looked at him did something to him that he couldn't explain. No other girl had ever had this effect on him and he needed more of her. He needed to make this last as long as he could.

Hermione focused on everything she was feeling, logging it into her memory to last her the next seven days. This interaction was all they had. Afterwards they would get dressed and go their separate ways. He'd make comments to her in class once in a while about being a goody-two-shoes, or a know-it-all, and she'd call him a prat and they would go on with their days until Saturday finally came around again and they could rendezvous somewhere new, somewhere hidden, and let their desires take over for a few blissful minutes. It would never be more than this, but it made it all the more sacred because she didn't know when it would end; When he would decide he was done with her. Which surely, he would at some point and she would have to find another way to feel again.

His hand had slid down her body and found a good rhythm in the right spot as she felt herself getting very warm. He was kissing her again but it was getting harder to focus on any one feeling. His lips were wet, his movements almost too slow, his hands soft against her.

She felt his lips graze her ear now, "Come on, Granger," he knew she was close and she'd always been very responsive to a bit of encouragement.

His breath against her ear drove the rest of her body crazy as she shuddered. Everything around her was fading as her muscles tensed and her head fell back against the wall again. Her hips bucked up towards him a few times as she let herself feel every fleeting second of bliss. Draco watched the look on her face with a sense of entitlement. There was no feeling more pure than being the one to make her lose her mind.

Hermione felt him quickening his pace and she let her whole brain give in to the sensations flowing through her, coming down from her own high and ready to ride his out together. She let her breathing fall in step with his, let her hand lift to his arm and inspect the contours of his muscles as he held them firmly in place. No one had ever made her feel like he did and she'd certainly never been this exposed with anyone else before. She opened her eyes and the look that met hers was electrifying. She felt things deep down to her core when they were connected and the way he looked at her screamed that he wanted her. Draco pushed deep inside her hard a few more times as he groaned, his head falling into the crook of her neck as she wrapped her arms around him. She pulled him tightly against her and they closed their eyes, holding onto the moment.

After a few minutes, or an hour, who knows, there wasn't a concept of time when she was with him, he lifted his head and kissed her soundly, his hand moving to cup her face as he brushed his thumb down her cheek, his lips stealing smaller kisses as his breathing returned to normal. It was a nice gesture. One that made it feel like she wasn't being used and it didn't go unnoticed. He rested his forehead against hers and let a long breath out of his nose before he pulled himself back from her and the sense of emptiness tried to claw its way back in.

"I'd have to guess you probably won't walk right for a few days," he said casually as he pulled his pants on and she hopped off the desk to find her discarded clothing.

"You think so highly of abilities," she rolled her eyes, grabbing the fallen button off the ground and pointing her wand at it with a nonverbal spell to attach it back to her shirt before she started buttoning it up again.

"For good reason, or I'd have to assume you'd stop sending me an owl every weekend."

She glanced down at her shirt, trying to look preoccupied with it so he didn't see the look on her face that agreed with him, "You and I both know this is just convenient," she pulled her underwear back on, straightening her skirt. She ran her fingers through her hair before walking to the door, pausing to look back with the hint of a grin on her face, "See you next week, Malfoy." She pulled the door open and left as he watched her, shaking his head with a grin of his own.

He pulled his sweater over his head and grabbed his wand from the shelf as he left the broom closet for the Slytherin common room. Someday she would realize that he'd been in love with her for a long time and was just too proud to admit it. One day he'd tell her that the teasing he'd done at Hogwarts was a ruse, and that watching his aunt torture her at the Manor had changed every bit of his allegiance to the side of the Order without question. He'd tell her that all he had wanted was another chance to know her and for her to see who he was under the barrier of the display he put on for others. But it seemed that day was not today. He slipped his hands into his pockets and let their evening play back in his head as he descended the stairs with a spring in his step.

~.~.~.