AN: Here we go - the fifth installment. I want to give a huge thank you to all of my follower's and reviewer's! I can't express enough how much I appreciate you guys! I am grateful that you keep reading! I don't believe I have anything else to say about this chapter so without further ado I give you a plethora of thoughtful Dramione fluffy/steamy moments. Peace and love to all!

She's A Work of Art
Chapter Five

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Hogwarts Castle, September 7th, 1997

The silver fox of Slytherin had never known such a joy as to hear the way Cormac McLaggen's petrified body (under the Full-Body Bind curse, of course) sounded as it thudded into every wall around each corner of the corridors, against random objects and railings of stairwells as he levitated him down to the first floor. He had laughed at him, snickered and carried on, saying things like "that's what you get McLaggen, scum that you are," but he was having much trouble seeing due to the Conjunctivitis curse still stinging and itching at his sealed-shut eyes. It had taken forever and he'd dropped the idiot multiple times on the way while losing his focus. He had to keep spouting the "Wingardium Leviosa" incantation over and over and by the time Draco had made it to the infirmary he'd been so fed up he just left him there in the hallway and went knocking on Poppy Pomfrey's door.

Suffice to say the older woman was the opposite of thrilled at the late-night visit and even less enthused to be administered with the care of Draco's paralyzed prisoner whom he deemed a felonious criminal under a serious offense. Thankfully, after Draco elaborated, mentioning something about having to press charges and how he was a danger to the other students she'd scurried along to make appropriate preparations.

The medi-witch had yelled at him though, advising him to stay put but Draco didn't want to heal all of his wounds quite yet and once thoroughly infused with the Oculus Potion she gave him he headed not far down the corridor to Minerva McGonagall's living quarters and office. The Head of Gryffindor was slightly flabbergasted from his sudden presence but held her wits together and followed him to Severus Snape's chambers in the dungeons after he explained the situation.

Bothering the dark-haired, brooding bat multiple times in one night, especially because of naughty students, was not recommended and Draco would have had a lot more convincing to do if he hadn't been completely mangled and cut up, his face and head bloody from the assault - as well as if McGonagall wasn't there accompanying him. The three of them stood around the fire place, keeping warm and Draco bid the Potion Master to read his mind.

As he penetrated his eyes right then, Snape was thrown into the world that had been Draco Malfoy's mind that day. However, considering Draco was inherently skilled in Occlumency already as it were, he blocked out the parts where he and Tracey Davis had found the Hufflepuffs smoking reefer in the greenhouses, keeping that secret as valuable leverage. Everything else he let his greasy godfather have full access to, even his feelings for Hermione Granger, embarrassing as it was. He just wanted them to know the truth in order to avenge and protect his woman… his woman?

Wait a minute… he did not just feel that. Fuck, now it was certain that he was in his own twisted kind of trouble. What was he, some kind of lust-driven, territorial animal? Regretfully, in some cases he presumed that yes he was a bit of an animal and he needed to calm himself down about all that… but Merlin, he was really hung up on that lioness. She had most superbly strung him up by his heartstrings and turned his perspective upside down without even trying.

What was he going to do? He had to get to her, talk to her. She had to forgive him.

When Snape was finished delving into his godson's brain he hovered beside him briefly, holding onto the young wizard's shoulder in a very paternal way the likes of which McGonagall had never seen in all her years knowing the man. The Head of Slytherin drawled in his slow, stern voice. "Go back to the Hospital Wing. Get yourself healed and cleaned up and Professor McGonagall and I will see to it that the Headmaster knows of this… appalling calamity. From there we will see about contacting the Ministry post-haste."

Draco nodded but before heading back to the infirmary he asked his superiors if they could tell the Head Girl he'd meet her in the courtyard after breakfast, if she'd so oblige him. The grimace that adorned the Potion Master's face was that of absolute contempt but with a small smirk the Scottish Transfiguration professor agreed to the young Slytherin Prefect's whim.

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It was Sunday, so Hermione decided on a very sensible yet comfortable lounge outfit. The straight-legged joggers she chose were a simple charcoal color and hugged her curves nicely. Her midsection donned a faded, mint-green muggle T-shirt and a cozy white, zip-up hooded sweatshirt. She opted for matching white tennis trainers and to complete the look she braided her long hair behind her into two low plaits that descended down her back and kept her hair out of her face. The Head Girl had to admit, she felt pretty cute today despite the hardships of the previous night. She remembered to hold her head high and ignore the heart-wrenching ache of her shattered pride. Hermione would strictly focus on her studies and henceforth refused to let any wizard or witch ruin the optimism she held onto.

Surprisingly enough to her she'd slept in and missed half of breakfast. Grabbing her book-stuffed bag she bolted as fast as she could out of Gryffindor Tower and down to the Great Hall just in time to fill up on some much-anticipated, delicious toast and bacon… and also to get scrutinized by almost every single student and teacher in the enormous dining room.

Hermione dared a peek at the Slytherin table and was overcome with confusion when she observed that the silver-blonde git was not anywhere to be seen. 'I wonder if something really did happen,' she thought but shrugged and excitedly began eating her breakfast for her tummy was grumbling. She'd hoped that Ginny, beside her and Harry across from her would have let her be but she'd be a fool to think they wouldn't pester her.

"Oi," Ginny grunted in greeting and elbowed Hermione in her arm. "How're you feeling today, 'Mione?"

The chestnut-haired girl blinked, said "Better, thanks," and took a sip of her pumpkin juice. Her friends stared at her expectantly but cautiously, afraid to rub the Head Girl the wrong way. She sighed, reckoning she should talk with them some more. "I'm fine, honestly. No reason to fear I'll bite your heads off!" she laughed heartily, attempting to ease any worry they had, mostly Harry anyway. Ginny shouldn't be worried about anything seeing as how she'd already let the redhead in on all of the secret, random happenings this week.

"Hermione, it's just…" Ginny began but paused, sharing a look with Harry. "McLaggen hasn't been seen anywhere, at all."

"Yeah, because trust me I would have kicked his dick in the dirt by now." Harry interjected.

"Odd," Hermione said, nibbling on a piece of toast. Obviously, Harry knew Cormac had cornered her in the Three Broomsticks and the Slytherin prick was involved. Probably everyone knew about it, especially if he told Ron. Where was he by the way?

"What's even stranger," the claret-haired girl continued with a twinkle in her light-brown eyes. "Malfoy hasn't been seen since last night either." The Head Girl refrained from outwardly expressing her shock, almost choking on her sweet drink.

"None of the staff knows anything and if they do, they're not talking," stated the Boy Who Lived, like it was the most serious thing to ever have gone down in school, not that Hermione wasn't unspeakably curious. She was.

"The snakes are freaking out mad, you know. Look at them," Ginny said, tilting her head to the Slytherins inconspicuously but when Hermione snapped her eyes to the next table over she immediately locked gazes with Pansy Parkinson, who seemed more than a little put out. She'd almost forgotten that the raven haired girl even existed… but that wasn't really the point. Hermione had a terrible feeling about this. Something was very wrong.

She kept observing the Slytherins and noticed Pansy, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis lean in over their breakfasts, whispering in hushed voices together. Blaise Zabini was eyeing her with suspicion over his steaming mug of milky expresso and Theodore Nott who was across from him turned almost fully around, giving her a bewildered shake of his head.

Stunned, Hermione looked over at the faculty's table to find that Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore were not present.

"I don't know what's going on exactly," Hermione suddenly found herself saying. "But I'm sure we'll find out sooner or later." Clearing her throat she began collecting her things. "And I don't know about you two but I have a few things I have to catch up on. I'll see you later?" She'd gotten what she wanted from her breakfast and it was time for her to head to the library. After that she'd reward herself with a scenic walk on the grounds. She definitely needed some more nature in her life, a breath of fresh air.

"Hermione wait," said Harry. "Let me walk with you."

"Harry, you forget I can take care of myself. Unless, I don't have my wand on me apparently," she blushed sheepishly. She should have known better… from now on she wouldn't forget her beautiful Vinewood wand when she traversed around a dim-lit bar. "But I was completely taken by surprise. I won't be this time. Please, I just want to be on my own right now."

Harry gulped and peered over to Ginny for guidance. She swept her long copper hair behind her ear and gave him a look that distinctly told him to leave it alone.

"I'm sorry, truly I am..." Hermione offered.

"Nonsense love, no reason to be sorry at all," Ginny told her with warmly. Hermione gazed at Harry, awaiting his response.

"You just let me know when you need me, how does that sound?" he asked. The Head Girl clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"You're my best friend! I always need you Harry, just… not right now."

"Right, makes sense." The black-haired boy replied with a small smile and a snarky undertone. Hermione smirked back at him appreciatively and with a last nod to her friends was on her way out of the Great Hall.

Unfortunately, she hadn't made it very far through the Entrance Hall when Pansy Parkinson stopped her, confronting her about Malfoy.

"Believe it or not Parkinson, I know just as much as everyone else does. Surely, in time they will tell us what's going on?"

"Tracey said he left after rounds to go see you late last night," Pansy retorted, dripping venom. "So what, are you telling me that you never saw him? Don't lie to me,"

"Why in Merlin's name would I lie? No actually, he never showed." Hermione attempted to hide the humiliation she felt from being stood up but failed as she nervously fiddled with a small curl at the nape of her neck. "I'd thought… oh never-mind," she began but remembered who she was talking to. Godric forbid she'd actually confess her anxieties to Slytherin's Favorite Bint.

Pansy had to refrain herself from keeling over in a fit of giggles. "Stop, stop that's hilarious," she managed through her light guffaws and gasps for air. "You poor, poor thing Hermione Granger, you'd thought he stood you up?" the girl was squeaking the words. "Oh no, no, no," apparently she was a fan of repeating the same word multiple times and it was driving Hermione batty. "If Draco Malfoy tells you he's going to be somewhere at a certain time - he's going to be there. He doesn't willy-nilly throw these sorts of… invitations around, Head Girl. You should be grateful he's graced you of all witches, with his full-fledged interest."

Hermione balked, standing there gaping at the dark-haired girl in surprise. Full-fledged interest..? What did that mean, exactly? Was she the only girl he had eyes for at that moment… currently?

Before she could utter any type of counter reply however Pansy was already sashaying away, waving her hand in dismissal. "No bother, then. Snape better show soon or I'll have a conniption unlike any other…" she trailed off, disappearing down to the dungeons and then she was gone. It was fine with her; Hermione didn't want to tell her what happened with Cormac McLaggen and was very glad the girl hadn't thought to ask. She continued on her way up the Grand Staircase and as she neared the top, saw someone completely unexpected but whole-heartedly welcome all the same.

"Professor!" she called out, breaking into a run and as she reached the landing, "Professor McGonagall, I don't understand… there are a few of us a bit concerned over the unknown whereabouts of two students. Do you know what's going on?" Hermione questioned her without mentioning any names.

Minerva tried to hold back her smile as best she could and held her hands up. "Woah there, slow down Miss Granger," she began with a small chuckle but firmly regained her serious demeanor. "I'll have you know that there has indeed been a situation, a terrible situation. Truthfully, I'm inclined to ask you to meet with me after lunch. It is of great importance we discuss some things –"

"Is… is he alright?" Hermione interrupted, but was shy and tentative as she asked, not caring as much about being discreet with names. "Malfoy, that is." McGonagall did not miss the hint of red that surfaced on the girl's cheeks.

"Fortunately he's fine," she replied. Hermione let out a relieved breath she didn't realize she'd been holding in. "He's been through a great ordeal but was tended to by Madame Pomfrey so he's feeling much better."

"That's good… so what happened?" A million and six possibilities of what could have occurred filtered through her mind but there was only one particular scenario which was the most feasible… a dreadful, inevitable repercussion that Hermione should have seen coming. Cormac must have gone after Draco as revenge for subduing him at the Three Broomsticks. Boys and their idiotic, alpha-male gaucherie - that's something that was likely to never change.

Minerva sighed. She was very much done with questions at that moment, in dire need of a bath and a cat nap. "I think it'd be better if Mister Malfoy were to enlighten you. Come to think of it, he wanted me to ask you if you wouldn't mind, after breakfast paying him a visit in the Courtyard. It is after breakfast now and I am most certain he'll be there waiting for you."

Hermione felt as if she should have been told all of this sooner and tried not to act appalled from how shocking the nerve-wracking new information was to her. All she could muster was a solemn, "Thank you Professor, I'll see you after lunch." and strode with determination back down the staircase and towards the indoor-outdoor study gardens.

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The Courtyard

Meanwhile, Slytherin's Prince was sitting on one of the many marble-stone benches that adorned the surrounded, open-air, grassy patio. His ribs were graciously mended, the cuts and slits on his face were healed right up and nothing had left any noticeable scars unlike the gash he'd took to his eyebrow the summer before fifth year… that one time Lucius lost his senses. His father went temporarily bat-shit mad, although Draco suspected the Malfoy senior had already been insane for far longer. The man had beaten him and tortured him with the Cruciatus Curse for almost an entire day. Fortuitously, his dear mother Narcissa discovered what was going on and intervened. Lucius had got one more good punch in using his closed fist - his big, gaudy serpent ring careening into him bluntly, yet sharp enough to leave an enormous, bleeding indent.

Even though from the outside his present injuries were invisible, on the inside Draco was hurting. At least Pomfrey blessed him with some soothing Butterfly Weed Balm in which he'd liberally smoothed over his sore spots. She'd also given him his own supply to keep for reapplication later. What's more, before he traversed down to the Courtyard he was lucky enough to gulp down three shooters of Ogden's, relieving more of the pain and it was ever so satisfying because he was buzzed now. He peered up to the blue-grey sky and took a deep breath. The crisp, pleasant atmosphere from the mossy-green vastness of the Highlands felt so wonderful; it was almost easy to forget his hardships, almost as if it cleansed him. He was in quite a daze but acknowledged he was beside his favorite tree so he went to it, climbing up onto one of the leafy limbs as he'd done on numerous occasions. Hopefully Granger would be coming by and from a higher place he should be able to witness her first emergence.

Oh but sweet Salazar, he was incredibly knackered from that night's events and hadn't even realized when he dozed off right there on the low-hanging branch, comfortable in his tree. Just like quicksand, his conscious was pulled into his own personal dreamland - an arousing place made up mostly of torturous, sexual fantasies.

Minutes later, Gryffindor's Princess ambled hesitantly through the large archways and columns, not feeling as brave as she felt moments ago. She was nervous at how badly a condition she'd find the silver-haired Prefect in… and despite finally being able to get some answers, was scared to learn what those answers might be.

And yet as she drove herself deeper, beyond several tables and benches through the flourishing thicket Hermione couldn't see him anywhere. It gave her a tiny fright at first, thinking she'd been misled again so she was very grateful when she spotted his unmistakably pale physique perched idly in one of the Ash trees which had, over the years grown naturally in the wide expanse of the verdant yard. Right away she recognized the sheer pricelessness of the candid sight before her.

People, magical and muggle, took naps here and there all the time, it was true. The straight-forward act of "catching some Z's" or plopping down to take a temporary snooze was a common ritual as well as human prerogative – but to be granted with an up-close, intimate glimpse of such a mystifying person like Draco Malfoy while they slept soundly felt special, felt rare. She observed the snake, wholly intrigued by his sleeping form and happy that he didn't seem too roughed up from what she could see but like McGonagall told her - he'd been taken care of. Even so, Hermione imagined he was probably still in some pain depending on the damage.

Like a deadly avalanche, the gnawing, steadfast hunger of impatience was snowballing within her. His stationary, sedated visage was extremely vexing to Hermione, for she reasoned while she stood there staring and chewing her lips, that his calm contentedness was the prime opposite of her panic and angst.

To curl up on a tree limb and pass out like that, the ferret-boy had to be immensely tired from what transpired. Evidently he needed rest and disturbing him seemed cruel but she had to if she wanted to clear the fog between them.

It was no use though; she couldn't attempt to wake the Prince from his peaceful slumber, couldn't even tear her gaze away. His expression was that of utter tranquility, contrasting harshly with the turmoil swelling up her brain. He looked so soft to the touch - and he wasn't unreachable at all. He was close enough to the ground still that she'd have no trouble placing her hand on him, if she could only manifest the courage to do so. She watched the slow rise and fall of his belly and chest as he sat there, his legs resting against the wide inner trunk, bent at the knee. His arms were crisscrossed cozily over his upper abdomen and his head was lolling back, settled into the huge limb behind him. Little puffs of air blew from between his lips, his eyelids dancing with a dream.

Draco's heavenly skin really was the most pure snow-white, almost opalescent with the indigo-blue blood pumping through his veins. One vein in particular caught her attention, protruding from his neck - a result of high stress she guessed. Obviously he'd been unable to relax as of late, it was plain as day. He looked shot-out, certainly from a lack of decent sleep. His shiny, silvery tresses were in a mussed mess but ruffled up at the front in that sort of roguish way that Hermione preferred on him. Also there were dark splotches circling under his eyes and despite how worn he looked Draco still managed to be undeniably alluring.

She was positively transfixed - bewitched by a wizard.

What was she going to do to wake him? 'Snap out of it you dimwit,' she mentally scolded herself. She'd indulged in her reverie and it was time to get it together.

"Malfoy?" the Head Girl tried his name but he wasn't stirring so she repeated it louder. "Hello, Malfoy? Hmm…" she patted him on his bicep twice and at the second contact his hand instinctively snapped out from underneath his arms, grasping tightly around her tiny wrist and digging in with his fingers. His icicle-blue eyes had cracked open, darting to his attacker with a vengeance but to Hermione's horror he didn't even see her - he saw an enemy. Mildly terrified she squealed out, desperately trying to pry her wrist from his grip. He pulled back his fist as if he was going to strike her but still she called to him. "Dra-Draco it's me, it's Hermione Granger!"

Immediately he froze, stopping himself. Miraculously the veil over him was lifted as he came to his senses. "Grr-Granger…?" he croaked, releasing her from his vice-like grip and then rubbed the sleep from his face, careful of the soreness that had spread throughout. "Ung… sorry, I-I didn't mean to nod off like that," He sat up where he was, clearing his throat and twisting his neck with an alleviating crunch.

"It's okay, re-really it's - it's quite alright," she stumbled a little over her words but took some steady breaths, her mild fright from the encounter gradually dissipating. She smiled warmly and helped him down to the ground - his hand in hers. He groaned, wincing in agony as he took the leap, landing on his feet and rubbing his torso. "Honestly, should you have been way up in a tree like that in your condition?" she chided him, a motherly sass to her tone. "No, clearly not from the looks of it," she gestured to his haggard, exhausted appearance. "And have you gotten any real sleep? I'm guessing no, seeing as how you passed out eight feet above the bloody ground,"

Although still grimacing and clutching at his side the ever-playful snake was in the mood to shock and awe her. Draco wanted a hold on her attention, especially since their arranged get together in the lounge had been foiled. He sighed and with great conviction he stated, "You really do love answering even your own questions, Granger - always such a damn know-it-all - and before that kind of thing just meant you were an irritating little swot, a swot I loved to hate but now, all of a sudden… I cannot deny it - I find you incredibly endearing."

The Malfoy heir was smug, feeling proud he'd been bold enough to say what he did. His smirk widened, relishing in her shy but disgruntled reaction. Merlin, she was adorable. He loved the two braids she'd decided to style her hair in for the day. Out of the blue the wind picked up, rustling about the greenish-yellow leaves of the lush, tall tree they were under and her long, chestnut-caramel plaits went flying around her in a rush. Draco noted that this captivating, wind-blown visual of Hermione there in front of him was portrait-perfect. She was practically glowing in the gentle sun and he wished the divine scene could be an addition to his collection. He swore to never forget it, internally burning the image to his brain.

His original question about Granger lingered within – Would he ever find out if she was the same, curly-haired vixen from his favorite painting? To him they looked identical… had she actually posed as the artist's muse?

Hermione's heartbeat thudded against her ribcage without mercy, as if she were some timid doe stuck in the woods, paralyzed by fear - losing a staring contest with the hunter. The pressure was on; her face and neck were roasting hot and she was unable to articulate any words. She'd opened her mouth trying to speak but closed it… struggling for a second time but closed it again. It was too much - his intense, rain-storm stare was boring into her as if he was memorizing this moment to save for later. After what he'd so freely admitted she'd never felt more bashful but seeing the pink stains saturating his ivory cheeks helped her feel better about her own deepening flush. Hopefully it meant he was nervous as well.

The clean, misty essence woven in the brisk breeze brought with it a foreshadowing of the fast-approaching autumn and it sent a chill running down their backs.

Regaining a semblance of serenity she was able to recall the dire need to get down to business… ahem no, not the naughty sort of business - the official reason for why she'd come. She had to find out what happened last night; why he never made it to the Prefect's Lounge and why he and Cormac McLaggen had apparently been missing.

"What happened last night? Everyone is beside themselves," she questioned, not verbalizing any response to his arousing but strange compliment on purpose. Draco was a good sport and took the loss with dignity.

"They are?" he asked and she nodded fervently. "Does that mean you've been beside yourself Granger? Sick with worry, concerned of my whereabouts?" The Prince of Slytherin was behaving in a theatrical manner. Hermione scoffed.

"Please – do not get carried away," she rolled her eyes and gave him a haughty stance, jutting out her hip and crossing her forearms in defense. "You want the truth?" Should she lie? "You hadn't shown up to the lounge, no big deal I just left. No bother," She lied. There was no way she could tell him how devastated she'd been. "This morning I walked into breakfast and the paranoid, angry and confused auras emitting from everyone in the Great Hall was all consuming. Needless to say, after eating I had to get out of there." Draco listened to her intently, resting beside the tree trunk. "Then your friend Pansy Parkinson caught up to me, demanding I tell her what I know. I told her nothing, which is true. I know nothing…" she was starting to ramble. Did he get it yet? Didn't he understand? She was dying to know the details.

"Of course she did," he lamented, referring to his Slytherin comrade. "Sorry about her, she's rather protective over me since… well since the beginning. I'm certain you relate because of Potter and all,"

"That I do but there's no need to apologize for her, its fine. I can handle Parkinson - merely child's play, she is." Hermione stated with a smirk and Draco harrumphed in amusement.

"I admire the confidence kitten. She is relatively harmless… well, for the most part. Still, I recommend proceeding with caution when it comes to girls like Pansy. Wouldn't want to set her off, the cloddish harpy, trust me," the exasperated sincerity in his expression told her there'd already been plenty of traumatizing spectacles in the past from triggering said harpy. "Best to leave the she-beast unprovoked in my experience," Hermione kept giggling, entertained from his trash-talk and the ambrosial sounds of her joviality had him feeling light as a feather, thrilled to be spending time with her one-on-one.

'Kitten, eh?' she'd thought. There was that pet name again, spoken in English now instead of French. "I'm not surprised - over the years I've heard all about the ungainly drama that follows her everywhere," she replied, fidgeting impatiently with the zipper of her sweatshirt. "But anyway, McGonagall met with me right after that, told me there'd been a terrible situation but that you would enlighten me, here in the Courtyard." Hermione tapped her foot expectantly for added effect. "Well…?" She couldn't stand to waste one more minute in ignorance.

Draco massaged the back of his tender skull where McLaggen had roughly slammed it into the wood floor. "Ah, okay. I think we'd better sit you down for this," he nodded to the marble bench. "Come Granger, you aren't going to like what I have to say but you have more a right to know than anyone." He led her over to the stone structure where she sat down primly, setting her hands in her lap. The blonde Slytherin took a seat directly next to her. He turned toward her, definitely not caring at all that his leg accidentally grazed against hers and was entirely unfazed when it stayed where it was, pressing gingerly into the warmth of her body. "Let's see… so there I was, hastily finishing up rounds with Davis - ugh, last night was impossible, Granger really. Damn the senseless little pricks, all of them. I'll tell you more about it later. I just need you to understand that I totally blame the commitments I have as Prefect for me being late to our meeting in the first place," Hermione blinked up at him as she listened, understanding where he was coming from. "I tried what I could to speed things up, truly but it was one problem after another and I had to see it through. Actually Head Girl, I think you'd have been proud if you'd seen me in action. I was something like a law enforcement officer, on patrol weeding out the bad apples!" he stayed seated but feistily jabbed at the nothingness in front of him, quick and agile as if he'd taken on the identity of a boxing champion.

Bemused, the Gryffindor Princess quirked an eyebrow, positive he would do well as an actor in a grand theatre performing plays – the sexy ferret had a knack for melodramatics. "I'm sure I would have. You're an excellent leader Malfoy, when you want to be. Dare I say you've been blessed with an authoritative tongue?" She chuckled, mirth sparkling in her eyes. Draco grinned like a devil with a secret. He situated himself closer, merging his arm to hers.

"Oh?" he challenged, then impishly clicked the aforementioned muscle inside his mouth. In one languid motion he tilted his face towards the bare area of her collarbone, startling her slightly. He nuzzled into her neck and his eyes rolled back in ecstasy, deeply inhaling her essence. His breath sensuously caressed over her as he let the tip of his nose glide against her sensitive jugular teasingly. He whispered along, his voice gruff with lust and it took all he had to be respectful and keep his hands to himself. "I'll have you know; my tongue is blessed with so much more than just authority, Miss Granger." His lips lingered dangerously nearer to her supple skin and he felt the twitching of his semi-erect cock rubbing against the inside of his black twill pants. Thank Salazar he'd changed out of his loungewear. If he hadn't of he'd be in for a different kind of trouble.

Instantly, the peach-fuzz across Hermione's entire body stood on end, cool and tingly from the sensations... but hot, so hot. That scorched yearning she'd abandoned last night once again broiled like lava inside her as if it were a temporarily dormant volcano, reawakened and erupting with magma that seared through her engorged, aching core unforgivingly. She almost moaned out-loud as she felt the familiar, wet warmth slickening between her thighs. Gods, how could one boy turn her on this much? Squirming under his breathy ministrations, she reasoned that she couldn't let him figure out what he did to her, how he'd been affecting her. Hermione didn't want him to have that knowledge, wouldn't give away her control so easily. With valiance she closed her eyes and turned away, pretending what he'd done and said hadn't stimulated her so considerably.

"I still haven't learned why you were missing," she seethed, attempting to get the ball back in her court. He inched away a bit, sensing her inner petulance. "Or why you're hurt. Explain please,"

Draco was chortling. "Easy now princess, it's really not the easiest thing to just... spit out."

Hermione wanted to explode, could have burst into flames from spontaneous combustion. "Just tell me, Malfoy please," she wailed pitifully, sounding sour and bratty – to behave so childishly was not at all something you'd find written in the Hermione Granger's Life Manual and Rulebook, so to speak. It simply was not her way but she'd noticed her usual spirit slowly crumbling.

Draco felt bad for prolonging her suffering. With a shake of his head he said, "Okay then, Cormac McLaggen is obsessed with you."

Hermione rolled her eyes so enthusiastically she'd thought they were to pop right out of her head. "Really, tell me something I don't know, would you?" Draco tapped his chin in contemplation.

"What do you know, Granger? Precisely..?"

She instantly gave him a look that said she wanted to decapitate him. Why was he doing the asking? "Uh… well, Cormac is… obsessed, just like you said. I always catch him staring at me during classes and in the common room. It's sort of like… he's always there, always giving me the creeps. He is a creep after all. The sideways comments sexually charged or otherwise always gave me a feeling… and he occasionally touched me - here on the shoulder, there on the waist. I glare at him and I always almost say something to him to tell him to stop but his advances last for only a second and nobody ever notices. I can barely tell if it even happened at all. Ugh, I felt so vulnerable like I couldn't do anything about it. That seems so stupid now."

The princely Slytherin sighed, agonized over having to divulge to her the worst-case scenario. "He's… manipulated you, confined you to a mind-set that made you feel alone - making you feel like there was no one to help. Hermione…" he breathed her name softly and she whipped around to face him, taken aback by his first use of it. His silver eyes gleamed with compassion and a kindness she had never thought she'd see in Draco Malfoy. "McLaggen's been after you for a while… it's unfathomable, really. We were all so innocent then and he… he was not."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"He's a sociopath, been so since day one. No doubts about it."

"Okay… but how do you know all this?"

"Last night, as I bounded through the corridors to meet you he subdued me with the Conjunctivitis and Jelly-Fingers Curses then pushed me in an empty classroom and proceeded to beat me. Buffoon that he is, McLaggen actually managed to get me pretty good." He rolled his shoulder with a small crack.

"Oh good Godric… I knew it," she exclaimed. Her nurturing, motherly instincts kicked back in as she suddenly found herself lightly grabbing his arm, the material of his grey thermal clutched between her fingers. "I had a feeling he'd come after you. I just had no idea it'd be so quickly," she told him, her cheeks further reddening and she let him go, embarrassed.

Now Draco was rolling his eyes. "Please - the fact that he's built bigger means nothing, not when you're dueling against a Malfoy…" he trailed off. Hermione felt slightly sickened for it was obvious he meant it was because the Malfoy's had knowledge of Dark Magic. She'd let that slide though. At the time, Draco was defending himself the only way he knew how to. "Despite my blindness, I was still able to sift through his mind using Legilimency. I simply placed my hand - which was normal again after a few minutes - atop his temple and it worked. I am after all, an inherently skilled Occlumens and Legilimens."

"Are you really? I had no idea," she replied but the fact he'd learned both somehow made sense to her now. "Truly impressive,"

"Thanks," he said.

"But…"

"But…?"

"You don't like, read people's thoughts and feelings for fun or anything, do you?"

The Slytherin Prefect was appalled at her insinuation. He was not the bad guy here. "No of course not Head Girl," he responded, flabbergasted. "It figures you'd ask that." It was then he decided it was probably a good idea to withhold that he'd casted the Asphyxiation Curse on Cormac as well, so he locked that up and threw away the key.

"I'm sorry… I just had to be sure."

"Its fine kitten, I understand. You should be cautious, no matter what. No one can be trusted," he told her. Very gently he placed his larger hand on hers and swallowed thickly, willing away his nervousness. He gazed into her amber-gold eyes with genuine determination. "I could never hurt you though," he gestured to his heart with the hand that wasn't wrapped around her palm. "What I felt inside that evil nutter's head, it just… was not right. I couldn't stand to see anything happen to you," Hermione almost gasped - from his words and from when he reached up to brush his fingertips gingerly over her face above her eyebrow and down… all the way down to her jawline ever so delicately. "That is why I've gotten McLaggen expelled. There's something within me that wants to protect you, keep you safe."

"You- you did? He's expelled?" she questioned him, stunned at that information but more stunned by his emotional confession.

"Absolutely, he's a danger to society but mostly to you. Snape agreed with me - especially once he'd had a look for himself - that McLaggen's mind is a pedophiliac cesspool of sadistic and malicious thoughts. Eventually he wanted to take you Hermione. No matter how or when, the prick was going to find a way. He had his own list of random, abandoned places throughout Great Britain where he knew he could lock you away. You'd have been his slave and I wouldn't let that happen."

"Draco, you… you really wanted to-" Hermione thought she might faint, so overcome by his gallant deeds as well as McLaggen's true nature having come to light. Twenty million more questions blazed through her.

"Yes," he hissed, still grasping her hand and he placed his other one on her neck, leaning his forehead to hers.

"I… I don't know what to say," she felt like she could cry, the release of all her previous frustrations approaching fast. "Thank you," they peered into each other's eyes.

"I don't want a thank you Granger, I just want…" he finally let go of his hold on her hand and brought it up to her chin, tenderly smoothing his thumb across her plush bottom lip while he subtly glossed his fingers along her ear. She leaned into his touches, letting out a breathy moan. "Damnit, I just want you."

Wetting his dry lips he deftly brushed his mouth against hers and no sooner than he had he'd pulled away, having felt a certain spark that surprised him quite a bit. He breathed heavily, gauging her reaction - it seemed she'd felt exactly as he had and also wanted more. Again he dipped forward and they closed their eyes, melding their mouths together in a burning bond. Hermione brought her hands to graze his lean yet broad chest and he wrapped a strong, lengthy Seeker's arm around her middle, embracing her closer.

It was unlike any other kiss either of them had before. Inside them, a heightening of wanton desire incessantly tingled, beginning from their tailbones and shooting up their spines. It ignited an eagerness which begged to tell of a several years-long infatuation that they'd always pretended did not exist, always ignored, denied. So much pent up sexual tension, so much pressure from an entire adolescence spent loathing each other, detesting one another. That was all wasted energy, when the whole time they could have been doing something much more productive and satisfying.

Draco swept his tongue through Hermione's welcoming lips. "Mmm…" he hummed, vibrating with want as he greeted her tongue with his and they mashed their wet mouths in earnest. She had one hand caught up in his warm jumper, another making its way to the base of his neck and twining his silver-blonde tresses in her fingers. He let his own fingers glide down and circle lightly over the small of her back. She moaned again. Gods, he could get used to that.

They'd continued snogging; it wasn't certain for how long. Time seemed to freeze during their mystifying connection. They had become completely unaware of the world that they had left behind and was still around them. He was nibbling on her bottom lip but when he pressed his mouth fully into her once more he then reluctantly let her go. Their eyes fluttered open, peering into each other.

"Your kisses are magnificent Granger," he spoke gruffly, lust-driven. "Surely you must do me the honor of spending more time with you,"

"I uh- yes… yes, surely I m-must." Hermione stuttered, a hazy expression adorning her features. "I was going to go on a walk later, after I'd studied. Um, it's too late for that now so how about - following my meeting with McGonagall after lunch - we go on a nice scenic walk along the grounds? I don't know, I have to get out of this castle."

"What if I took you on a nice, proper date then? We'll go anywhere you'd like,"

Hermione snickered. "Well, it's not like we can really go anywhere, unless you're suggesting we should actually Apparate from the Apparition point in Hogsmeade. We are not going to be allowed, Malfoy. Especially not with what just happened,"

"We don't have to get anyone's permission," he stated like it was a fact. "I really could care less if it's not allowed, Head Girl. We should live a little. Just break those rules you have for once Granger. You used to get up to trouble with Pothead and Weaslebee all the time, if I'm not mistaken - and probably schemes I had no idea about. Honestly, let's have some fun. I want to take you somewhere special, somewhere beautiful. We could make up a grand lie and McGonagall and Dumbledore will forgive us immediately after everything we've just went through. What do you say?"

At first Hermione wanted to say no, tell him that it was a ridiculous notion and they should both get back to their studies. They could always go on a date later; he was making it seem like the end of the world was nigh and they should be running away together… but it was incredibly intriguing, the thought of it. Ooh, she really wanted to go. Ruminating on the idea, she bit at her lips anxiously and then made a decision.

"Fine," she agreed through gritted teeth. "But you're the one coming up with the lie and it better be good."

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AN: There we go, end of chapter five! Where will Hermione want to go for their proper date? I honestly haven't decided yet. Are there any thoughts from my readers? Where would you like to see Draco and Hermione go that isn't the typical Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley? I'm thinking a completely different country! Which one though? Cheers to all of you! :0)