A/N: I am sorry, once again, for the delay in posting. I was in DC on vacay and then I had a bit of procrastination/writer's block to contend with. The story has veered from my original outline so…I just finished writing this and am posting it right away so please be kind…or not…write whatever you feel about this chapter as long as it is constructive. I appreciate all of the reviews, truly!

Chapter 14: Reconnect

Hermione remained seated at the low table, shocked and appalled and worried. She was so very conflicted about everything. What he had done…but what choice did he have, really? What choice would Harry or Ron have made? Harry cared so much for everyone but himself that Hermione knew, she just knew that he would have sacrificed his own morals and his own emotional and physical well-being and done exactly what Draco had done if it meant saving an innocent from brutal rape or torture. Ron was loyal, if a bit hot-tempered, and would have done it to protect his family and friends, like Draco had done when his mother was under threat.

But then there was what he said about probably only doing it to save his own skin. This was Draco Malfoy, bully and coward extraordinaire and if she were truly honest with herself, self-preservation was most likely to have been the foremost motivation for his actions. Could she really forgive him if he thought first of himself, even if he did eventually consider the well-being of his mother and the girls involved? On the other hand, when he had spoken of it, he had seemed to only tack on thoughts of his own well-being at the end, like an afterthought or something he didn't really think about except in the recesses of his mind and only the compulsion charm had brought it out.

Yes, he had been her major tormentor and had said cruel things up to and including that he was looking forward to her death, but when it came to his actions during the war, there was quite a different picture painted. He had lowered his wand, refusing to be a murderer even at the threat of his own life. He had not identified them at his home over Easter even though he knew, he knew who they were and it would have put his family back in good standing. He had not fought in the final battle but had instead went looking for his friends, dragging them away from the fight. She had determined that he was in the ROR because he was looking to escape through the vanishing cabinet and had just happened to run into them there. He had refused to kill them then, too.

So he wasn't capable of killing. He clearly thought himself capable of rape, however. The compulsion charm would have forced him to tell the truth however he saw it. Only veritaserum would force the unvarnished truth from your mouth. His compulsion was to tell his secrets which meant the words would come out exactly how he thought them in his mind. Hermione was under the same compulsion after all, but had managed to scrape by only sharing that she would have chosen him because he had not actually asked her any questions which she would feel compelled to answer. Lucky her.

Either way, it all added up to confused and conflicted. Deeming it safe to eat since Draco was not present to instigate more conversation, Hermione dug into her food to distract her from her thoughts, vanishing it all when she had eaten her fill, correctly assuming that he wasn't going to be coming out to eat any more that evening. Stomach full and emotionally and physically exhausted, Hermione dragged herself to her room, collapsing on her bed and falling easily into a not-so-easy sleep.

At first, she wasn't sure if she was even awake or if she was in her dream. She could hear screaming but it seemed to come from further away than usual, as if, for once, the abject terror was not her own. The scream died down and the pleading began and Hermione's brain finally caught up to her body.

"Please, I'll fix it. I promise I'll fix it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll fix it," Draco's voice drifted through the wall. "I'm sorry. I don't want to. I'm sorry. It'll be over soon. I promise."

Hermione was not put in Gryffindor for nothing. She was logical and rational to be sure, but she was also brave and liked to face problems head on. Draco was in the midst of a nightmare and though Hermione was quite capable of casting a silencing charm, she knew that wasn't the right thing to do. She slipped out of her room, made quick work of his password and wards and tiptoed to his bedside.

"Draco," she whispered. "Draco, wake up."

The blonde continued to thrash his head side to side, moaning and pleading for forgiveness. Hermione reached her hand out tentatively and shook his shoulder. When she still didn't wake she did what she had to. She pulled her wand and cast a renervate, hopping backwards a step when Draco sprang upright, practically screaming, "I'm sorry."

"You were having a nightmare," Hermione explained when his gray eyes focused on her face. "I thought it best to wake you."

"How did you get in here?" he asked when his breathing returned to almost normal.

"Hello, my name is Hermione Granger and I am a complete swot. Perhaps you've heard of me?" Hermione joked, trying to lighten the tension in the room.

"No, really. How did you get in here?" Draco insisted.

"I tried your favorite class, a variety of different sweets I've seen you eat, and your mother's name. When those didn't work I moved on to quidditch. It only took a few words and I had your password. The wards were much easier. You should really study up on those a bit more."

"Why did you come?" Draco repeated, apparently choosing to ignore her comment.

"I told you; you were having a nightmare," Hermione answered.

"Don't play coy; it doesn't suit you. Why did you come in here, Hermione?" Draco said, voice barely above a whisper as he flopped back onto his pillow. Pillows. He really did have a very sumptuous bed. "You could have just silenced the wall. I did. The first time."

"I know. I guess I just didn't want you to continue suffering. I know what it's like, as you know." Hermione watched Draco as he ran his hands down his face and back up into his hair.

"You should let me suffer. I deserve it, right?"

"No. No, Draco, nobody deserves that kind of suffering. What he did to you, made you do, isn't something I would wish on anyone. Even a prat like you." Hermione hoped that he understood what she was saying, trying to say. When he simply snorted in disbelief she took a step closer to the bed, and then another, until she could sit on the edge and grab his hand, his eyes shooting to hers. "You are not a bad person and what happened to you was awful. It doesn't excuse how you treated me and I'm still cross with you for that but for what it's worth, I don't hold your actions against you from the war."

Draco turned his head to the side, as if trying to hide his face and took in a shaky breath. "I am sorry about that."

"So you've said," Hermione replied.

"I befriended Longbottom and Lovegood, mostly to be around you but as far as friends go, they aren't too bad," Draco offered, still not looking directly at Hermione though he left his hand in hers. "Red hates me so I probably won't be befriending her any time soon, just so you weren't entertaining any ideas."

"Well, I'm willing to try being your friend, for what it's worth," Hermione offered. "But I swear to God if you ever pull a stunt like that again…"

"I won't," Draco interjected, finally turning to look at Hermione, sitting up and effectively bringing his body very close to hers. "I swear to you, I won't ever do anything like that again. It was immature and unacceptable and hurtful and I was being a jealous idiot and…"

Hermione placed her hand over Draco's mouth, cutting off his words quite effectively as the wizard instantly grew still. "I believe you. You don't have anything to be jealous of, Draco. Neville is a friend and stupidly in love with Hannah Abbott."

"Yeah, I know that now…"

Hermione stopped him again. "And we aren't together so you don't really have the right to be jealous."

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Draco felt a bit like he'd been slapped. And he'd been slapped by this particular witch before so counted himself a bit of an expert on the feeling. He grabbed her hand away from his mouth.

"It sure felt like we were together when I had my tongue between your thighs, Hermione," he responded. He saw her swallow and watched her eyes dart away. "Or when I was pounding you into the mattress from behind. And it especially felt like we were together when you were spread out on top of me, riding my cock."

"That's sex," Hermione said. "That's chemistry and pheromones and…"

"Bullshit. That's bullshit," Draco growled, grabbing Hermione's chin and forcing her to meet his eyes. "We have a connection. We've always had a connection and you can't deny that."

"You called me 'mudblood' and threatened me!" Hermione exclaimed, pulling her face out of Draco's grip.

"And you shagged me anyway! I've always been a complete ass to you but even when I was holding you helpless and threatening you, you hugged me and offered to let me sit in your compartment. And even though I'm supposed to hate you, all I've thought about since then was you. We have a connection whether you want to admit it or not. If we didn't you would never have let me fuck you, pheromones or no."

Draco proved his point by burying his hands in the witch's bushy hair and claiming her mouth, smirking internally when she almost immediately gave in, tangling her tongue with his and moaning. The angle was awkward with her sitting perpendicular to him so he released her hair to grab her waist and drag her body over his, her knees on either side of his hips and her bum perched on his thighs. She tasted delicious, as usual, and Draco couldn't resist pulling her closer and settling her warm core directly above his very hard cock.

Delicate hands carded through his hair and her hips ground down against the ridge of his prick. He was the one to moan this time, thrusting helplessly up against her hot center and using his hands on her perfect ass to keep up a steady rhythm of thrust and grind, only moving his hands enough to slip below her waistband to grab each bare globe in his palms. When he came up for air he released her lips to latch onto her neck instead, somehow growing harder when she whimpered and started panting, her hips speeding up.

"You're angry with me and yet as soon as I touch you, you melt. You can't resist me either. Fuck, I need you naked," he groaned against her jaw as he dragged his mouth back to hers.

Hermione apparently agreed with that sentiment because she released her death grip on his hair and tugged up the hem of her tee. Draco wasn't about to waste the opportunity presented so he released her plump cheeks and helped her tug her shirt over her head, immediately dropping his mouth to her tit and his hands to her bottoms, leaning forward and pushing her body back to the bed so that he could cover her body with his own and rip her pants down her legs. They got caught around her knees and he abandoned the cause so he could run his fingers up her slick slit, circling her clit and earning a gasp from the witch beneath him.

"I've had a lot of sex and this isn't that," Draco muttered around Hermione's puckered nipple. "Sex is forgettable. You finish and move on and anybody can fill that space the next time you're feeling empty. But I can't get enough of you. I can't get you out of my head. Tell me you feel it too."

Hermione's answer was another whimper and a deep groan as he sank two fingers into her tight heat. He claimed her mouth once more as he curved his fingers and rubbed against her spongy front wall. He swallowed her moans, nipping at her lips and licking at the roof of her mouth, his fingers unceasing in their assault on her sensitive spot and his thumb dropping to her clit.

"I know you feel it, the connection. Tell me. Tell me," Draco insisted, needing to hear the words from her mouth.

Instead, she came with a scream around his fingers, shuddering and shaking and soaking his palm. Draco rode her through it, gradually slowing his fingers until her spasms stopped, lips still tugging at her nipple.

"It's not just sex. Tell me. Say it," Draco nearly whined.

"I feel it, too" the witch finally answered.

"Thank Merlin," Draco groaned. "You're not just a convenient fuck, Hermione. Not to me. We don't have to go any further than this. We can just lie here together. Will you stay with me tonight? Sleep here? I sleep better with you."

"Draco, it isn't just sex, but if you don't get inside me within the next 10 seconds I will hex you," she growled. "And yes, I'll stay. I sleep better with you, too."

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Hermione couldn't explain it. She would swear they had been bewitched. He had treated her horribly for years and what he had done with the magazines was offensive and hurtful and she shouldn't want to be near him. His past was gruesome and though she didn't hold it against him she thought it would have at least caused her some moment of hesitation when faced with his ardor. But as soon as his lips had touched hers it was like fireworks in her head. She lost all sense. Her whole world narrowed down to each individual point of contact between his skin and hers.

She didn't feel the bed under her thighs or the brush of her tee as it slipped down her shoulder. She didn't feel her hair, which had come loose from its braid while she had slept, as usual, tickling the back of her neck. She didn't feel the soft warmth of her fluffy socks on her feet. But his fingers against her scalp sent electric shocks down each individual strand of hair, sparks jumping from the curled ends to whatever bit of flesh they rested against and racing down her nerve endings so her whole body felt electrified. His lips on hers were the new center of her universe, burning like a thousand suns, bathing her in warmth and life-giving energy. She drank of his tongue, an enchanted oasis in the middle of an endless desert where each sip just made her thirstier, made her crave more and more.

When clothes were removed and the weight of him settled atop her it was as if the whole world had ceased moving, time itself stopping and centering on that excruciating eternity between her back hitting the bed and his chest settling atop hers. And then time sped up, like a video on fast forward, his tongue and teeth and hands moving everywhere all at once, the movie switching once more into slow motion only when he filled her with his fingers. He was relentless in his pursuit of her pleasure and she crested the wave and released all of her pent up energy, that electricity he had imbued her with, in a loud scream.

She couldn't deny she felt the connection after that. There was something there other than chemistry and pheromones. Hermione prided herself on her honesty and so gave him the words he was seeking for they were the truth. She felt the connection and she wanted to feel it again, wanted him to fill her with that energy, to speed up time, slow it down, or grind it to a halt. She wanted him naked and wasted no time in getting him there, summoning her wand from the floor where it had fallen and casting a divesto to speed up the process.

And then he was inside her, stretching her around his cock and those electric shocks coalesced there, the true center of the universe, where life really begin, and his hands were locked in hers, fingers entwined, and his lips were locked on hers, tongues dueling for dominance, and his eyes were locked on hers, neither wanting to look away, to lose the connection. She wrapped her legs around his slim hips, crossing her ankles at the base of his spine and using the position to lift herself into his thrusts.

They fit perfectly together, as if made for one another, two halves of the same coin. If she was able to think about anything other than the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of her, dragging along her walls, bumping her cervix as he bottomed out, she would have realized they were in most ways exactly opposite and yet in some ways exactly the same. She was plain and brown from her wild curly hair to her muddy eyes to her tan and freckled skin. She was the girl next door, down to earth and practical, happy to sit at home and read by the fire. He was beautiful, elegant and refined, light of hair and eye and skin, snobbish and high-maintenance and materialistic, athletic and happiest surrounded by people to fawn all over him. She was a sparrow to his swan.

But for all of their differences, they were both ambitious, loyal in their own way, cunning, intelligent, and somewhat intolerant with the faults of others, though Hermione didn't really like to admit that. He was second in marks only to her and she was able to ignore her morals in protection of her friends almost as easily as he could. Yes, they were very much alike, like yin and yang, with his most dominant traits being a small piece of her and her most dominant traits being a small piece of him.

She would have found it quite interesting and probably would have spent a considerable amount of time contemplating, discussing, and postulating. But she was much too busy thinking about how good it felt when he finally released her hands so he could prop himself up, changing the angle so that he hit her g-spot with every…single…thrust, and dropping a hand between them to play her clit like a violin. With her hands free she was able to grab her breasts, pinching and pulling and rolling her nipples, each tug sending more sparks down to where they were joined. If she could hear herself she would probably be embarrassed by the sounds coming from her mouth and the truly filthy sloshing coming from her drenched core as he pounded into her. As it was, though, she was deaf and blind to everything but the moans coming from her lover's mouth and the look in his molten silver eyes as he got closer and closer to release.

She saw his pupils blow impossibly wider and his eyes lose focus completely as his hips lost their rhythm and he came deep inside her, her own climax sucking him deeper into her wet passage and holding him there. He kept up the movements of his hips, grinding against her oversensitive clit, until the last aftershock raced down her limbs. Slowly the world came back into focus and Hermione returned to herself, noticing the sweat rapidly cooling on her heated skin, the itchiness between her breasts where his stubble and her nails had left behind various friction burns and abrasions, the soreness on the inside of her thighs from his jutting hipbones.

When he collapsed to the side, too spent to hold himself up any longer, she gasped at the sensation of his cock slipping free of her swollen folds, their combined juices following and sliding down the curve of her bum to pool on the bedspread beneath her. His panting breath was hot against her neck as he breathed with his head turned towards her and while it wasn't exactly uncomfortable, it wasn't exactly pleasant either. She could feel the heat radiating from his body and she was sure he could feel hers as well.

"A cool shower would be-"

"Definitely need a cooling charm-"

Hermione huffed out a laugh. Opposites indeed. She thought like a muggle and he thought like a wizard. "Cleaning charm, then cooling charm," she compromised, too languid from pleasure to care when he grabbed her wand to perform the necessary charms to make them comfortable.

It was thinking about necessary charms that made Hermione sit up straight and groan, snatching her wand from Draco's hand and casting a quick charm on her belly, sighing in relief when it turned red.

"Did you just cast a pregnancy detection charm?" Draco asked, brain apparently still fuzzy.

"Well, we haven't exactly been practicing safe sex and I just thought of it and God, how could I have been so stupid?" Hermione replied, swishing her wand to cast a contraceptive spell good for 24 hours before and after intercourse.

"Hermione, calm down. You don't need that," Draco assured her from his position still sprawled near the foot of the bed.

"I most certainly do," Hermione argued, "as I have no intention of falling pregnant any time soon, connection or not! How could you think…"

This time it was Hermione who found herself with a hand over her lips. "I would never get you up the duff without there being a very long discussion and agreement beforehand. And preferably a marriage contract since I am a fairly traditional kind of bloke, believe it or not. Not that I'm asking you to marry me or anything. I was simply telling you that you didn't need it because I take a potion every month to ensure sterility. Seemed wise, what with Voldemort throwing witches at me. My father would have killed me if I knocked any of those girls up and I didn't want any children of mine to be the product of…that."

"Oh. Well, please don't take offense when I say I'm still going to use the charm. A witch should never leave it solely up to the man to take care of contraceptive, even if she trusts him," Hermione proclaimed. Thinking for a moment she added, "Or is married to him, come to think of it, not that I'm asking you to marry me or anything."

"I can't argue with that. Do what makes you most comfortable, Hermione; I won't be offended. It's your body, your choice, always," Draco said earnestly, finally sitting up and repositioning himself at the head of the bed on the side closest to the door. "Now that we've established neither of us is thinking of marrying the other and we definitely aren't ready for kids, which is a pretty heavy conversation when we haven't even had our first date yet, can we please go back to sleep?"

Hermione crawled in beside him, tucking her head against his chest and tangling her left leg around his. "We had dinner, conversation, albeit a bit dark, and then came back to your place for a shag. I would definitely count this as a date," she muttered into his neck before placing a soft kiss there and letting her heavy eyelids fall shut.