I had to post something. I hated that last chapter and, even if this chapter creates some drama, there's a couple seconds of physical contact!

Alright!

When Potter's mouth had open to ask Malfoy to leave, Malfoy's wand delivered a quick silencio and Draco, with his now shocked-nearly giggling partner, stared at the boy whose shouts now only made him appear as a foolish fish.

And Hermione, although she now felt no fear, even though she knew that Malfoy would have to ask why she had cowered and she would have to tell him, placed a hand upon Draco's slung across her shoulder, and kept close to him still.

Draco, in return, kept his questioning at bay, if only momentarily, to enjoy this momentary pause, watching happily as Potter, who was trying to reverse the curse silently, was suddenly ambushed by Hermione, ready with her sorely missed wand and trying to keep up the light humor, sent a well-placed curse that gave him orange boils across his body, as well as a thrown in Jelly Leg locker. Malfoy, receiving a glance from her, joined in, if only half-heartedly. As much as he wanted to take out all his anger against the Boy Who Lived just now, he did not want to take advantage of Hermione's good mood, should she be reminded even more so of who he was, so risky had this been after she was reminded painfully by Dobby's distant behavior.

So he sent an effortless spell, wishing to remember this vision of Harry in a catwoman outfit for eternity, enjoying the appreciative laugh, full out laugh, a real one, from Hermione, appreciated his pursuit in Muggle comics at younger years, so interested was he in the things that Muggles considered to be magical.

Harry, though unable to move properly, seemed still intent upon reaching Hermione, though now the desperate need for her seemed much more malicious. When he had actually laid his hand upon her arm, still unsteady, she had let out a small cry and a wince and Malfoy, acting quickly as Potter reached for his wand, petrified him in his assault with miraculous speed.

Hermione, for her part, stepped aside as the body fell face down upon the ground.

Tight lipped, she levitated the body against the wall and left his invisibility cloak across his body, not looking to Harry's unmoving eyes.

And it was with a terrible silence that they continued their walk to their common room. When they had reached the dividing fork in this same room, Malfoy had turned to her with a deep, preparing breath, keeping his eyes closed.

"It should be expectant of me to ask you the meaning of your behavior with him." Draco, raising his eyebrow slightly as he watched her gaze shift adamantly from him, her callous pride keeping her from responding, cheeks sordid and tongue held.

"And while I would generally hope to avoid any expectations you have of me, doing so would, ironically, cause me to define a sense of my behavior upon what you seem to think of me, whether it should be to attain a perfect image or a spiteful one. So I am asking for my own benefit and your own, Granger, for you to explain your uncharacteristic behavior with the Golden Boy."

"Uncharacteristic?" She asked, stalling.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "Excuse my excessively exposing adjectives."

Hermione sighed, defeated, prepared to tell the story she had already iterated to the two youngest Weasleys.

Her only strength here was to reiterate it with a passive monotony, hardly listening to what she was saying.

The great lack of perspective and opinion from his counterpart did not go unnoticed in any way, her arms wrapped around her chest and still not looking at him.

"After you first kissed me, outside the Hospital Wing and Harry told you to back off, I went to him. I needed someone and I couldn't remember anything that happened with you and I still didn't understand." Malfoy's eyes darkened, although neither could tell if he thought Harry did something or Hermione had done something. "He thought I was choosing him and he tried to have sex with me. I almost gave in but… when I ran off he followed and said that I was betraying him for you. That I was just your fuck toy. That I was just a challenge."

Hermione glanced up, glad she was still stoic. Unfortunately, so was Malfoy. Unable to read him, his eyes stilled onto a point behind her.

He took in a quick breath. "It would seem that way, wouldn't it."

Hermione, slightly taken aback, said nothing to reveal what she may be thinking. Malfoy continued, looking straight at her.

"Well. What do you think."

Hermione, breathing without any hitch, answered in kind. "It's entirely probable, likely, but ultimately nothing anyone but a third party observer would conclude."

Malfoy smirked slightly, looking at Hermione with a slight warmth as she held her chin high and looked right at him.

"Why didn't you tell anyone."

Still holding her head high, she shrugged, slightly, apathetic, and Malfoy let out a slight glare.

"To be honest, Muddy, I'm torn between who needs to have their karma realigned." Hermione breathed, felt her back crack slightly under the pressure of standing so close to Malfoy without showing any emotion. "But I guess, considering this is the first night we've had together where we are both in our respective minds, I cannot blame you for not telling me. Nor can I blame your pride for keeping this from the Professors."

Malfoy's hand reached to Hermione stiff back, his hand sliding under her shirt just slightly enough that her eyes closed and her breath was released, only relaxing just enough to lean into him slightly.

He lowered his head to hers, the contact forcing her fluttering eyelids to focus on him. With only the slightest furrow in his brow, he asked his first question that, that night, had any meaning to him.

"You don't believe yourself to be dirty, do you?"

Hermione was oddly prepared. "If I were to listen to you when your guard is up, I would think so. If I were to infer from your behavior, I would never let another word affect me, so obviously false they must be."

Malfoy's gaze was still steady, watching her.

"Then I won't let another word affect you."

At Malfoy's too-sweet comment, Hermione frowned slightly and his eyebrow raised, expectant of her disbelief.

"And what of your actions?" She asked.

"What of my actions do you not approve of?"

Hermione smiled slightly. "I could write you a novel."

"Then do it." He answered, very quickly. "I want a list of all the superficial behaviors you don't find to be appealing."

Hermione blanked slightly.

"For curiosity's sake. I'm sure it will be cathartic for you and, if slightly degrading, a revelation for me, of what my… equal… believes me to be. The actions you don't approve off are those that I am most accustomed to. I'm not promising, in any way, of… anything."

Hermione's head tilted slightly, still having not agreed to anything. "I find it slightly ironic, Malfoy, that this conversation began with your prejudice against me. What makes you feel I do not have the same?"

"I'm nearly praying you do."

Hermione, hurt rushing to her eyes at the admittance of his prejudice, nearly responded when Malfoy, with quick Seeker reflexes, knew what to say to her.

"Hermione," he spoke softly, gathered the side of her still wary face in his palm, "for the past two weeks I've thought you an exception to what I've so easily categorized you into. You may be the only person to convince me that the people I consider you to be an exception from are… nearly as exemplary," Draco smiled slightly, finally able to cause a smile upon her features. "Nearly as crazy, brave, intelligent…" Hermione glared playfully, not willing to be distracted from her point. Malfoy's face leveled out a certain degree of sincerity at his next statement. "Nearly as beautiful as the witch in front of me I have come to fall for most dangerously."

As luck would have it, Hermione did not have to find a response, so quick were their lips together, her arms thrown around his shoulders, clasping him to her as he held one hand against her neck, another pressing against the hot skin of her back, his cold hand sending a chill up her spine. This chill, causing a slight nip of her teeth against his lip, intensified as Malfoy's rough hand continued to slide up her back, ignoring her bra strap as it instead pored its thumb over her shoulders. When her back arched, her neck thrown back with a soft cry, their mouths separated, Malfoy's head dug into her neck and, faced with the tantalizingly soft skin there, his mouth found its way, a soft bite, slight tug, a dragging kiss to elicit the cry, a gasping breath from Hermione's mouth, the groan that nearly induced from Malfoy.

Laying his head to rest there as he felt Hermione's pulse racing from her neck, could feel her heart beat through the breasts that Malfoy was trying not to think of, held so close against her.

And Hermione, oblivious, letting out a slow sound of approval from her closed lips, held her hand in Malfoy's hair, twisting into the insanely soft locks.

Malfoy suddenly lifted his head to hers and spoke without thinking. "You're not a virgin, are you?"

Once the resounding strike of her palm against his cheek had registered itself, Hermione spoke with a hiss, her eyes flinting.

"Excuse my pride, Malfoy."

And said nothing more, Malfoy watching her walk to her room, an action which looked even more so inappropriate when she turned to glare at him, reaching her door, and it became obvious that Malfoy, in his tension, lip bit, had kept his eyes at a lower point than was polite.

When she slammed her door, Malfoy, resolutely, did not return to his room but instead to the Slytherin common room.