Hermione stumbled into the hallway outside her shared dormitory, her head swimming with the events from the morning. "Go find Potter," Draco had told her.

She grasped at the cold stone walls, hoping to keep her balance. She allowed her feet to carry her, not to any particular destination but just to keep moving. Without her noticing, tears had begun to fall down her cheeks. Soon she was sobbing, completely uncontrollably and had to finally collapse against a suit of armor.

She stayed their until her tears had dried and she regained her composure. Standing up, though somewhat shakily, she moved towards Gryffindor tower. The Fat Lady greeted her kindly, though she was unable to look up into the warm eyes she had become so familiar to these last six years. She simply mumbled the password, "Mandrake," and the portrait swung to accept her.

It was evening and only a couple of students were in the common room. She realized that the rest of them must have gone to dinner and, with a loud rumble in her stomach, realized that she had not eaten since breakfast. She turned around to move towards the Great Hall when she heard a voice calling her name.

"Hermione?"

She turned around to see Dean Thomas, watching her curiously. "Hello, Dean," she greeted him cordially.

"Where are you going?"

"As much as I'd like to avoid it, I'm heading to the Great Hall for supper. I'm staving."

"I've got some sandwiches in my room if you wanna avoid the Hall so badly," he offered, though it seemed more out of politeness than a desire to spend some one on one time with her.

Hermione realized she must look like a mess. No make up, messy hair, clothes thrown on without any consideration. Ignoring her impulse to turn down his likely insincere offer, she headed with him up to his room. She just couldn't handle seeing Harry or Draco right now.

Surprisingly, her time with Dean was quite nice. They talked as they never had before. Mostly just small talk about classes and gossip. Hermione found herself laughing and enjoying his company. It still felt odd to her, though. She was completely alone with a guy for the first time and didn't feel any anxiety. Even with Harry and Ron and her father, she'd felt somewhat apprehensive. Perhaps time really was healing her wounds.

After a while, Dean produced a bottle of firewhiskey. "Been saving this for a right while," he grinned. "Care to join me?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment. She was Head Girl, after all. Sometimes though, she decided, she had to enjoy the moment. She took the bottle from his hands, gulping down a huge mouthful of the foul liquid.

Dean laughed as she squinched her face up, coughing. "That was awful!" She exclaimed, though she found she quite liked the warm, heady feeling the alcohol gave her. With Dean's encouragment, she drank more and more of the firewhiskey until she could drink without making the horrible faces.

Once the bottle was empty, they had moved to the floor, leaning against Dean's bed. "This is really nice," she admitted, though slightly giggly from the amount of alcohol she'd consumed.

"Yeah, it really is," he slurred back.

Without thinking, Hermione began to remove her blouse. "Mione what the fuck are you doing," Dean laughed.

"Taking my top of," she smiled at him. She was now left in her skirt and only a peach colored bra on top. Despite himself, Dean felt his gaze drawn to her chest. If he had looked closely, he might have noticed a couple of scars on her milky breasts, the reminder of an attack she'd sooner forget.

In her head, Hermione wanted to have sex. Needed to. She wanted to have sex without the reminder of Draco. Without thinking of him, without any strings attatched. She needed to do this for herself, or she might never be able to.

She moved to straddle Dean's legs and began kissing him, hungrily and with a need she'd never experienced. Though he seemed to draw back at first, he soon returned her kiss with equal passion. Together, they moved up to the bed, never breaking their kiss.

Dean pulled back to remove his tie and shirt. He started to say something, but Hermione pushed her finger to his lips. "No talking," she whispered huskily. "Just fuck me."

She layed back against the pillow, pulling him on top of her. With her left hand, she linked her fingers with his, hoping to hold on to him. To be able to feel him there with her. Hoping to stay connected with him, desperately wanting to hold on and not slip back into those horrible memories.

With her right hand, she reached behind her back, unhooking her bra easily. He pulled it off of her, staring hungrily down at her breasts. Unhooking his hand from hers, he began to massage and knead them in his hands. Firmly, but not unenjoyable to her.

Then he moved down, pulling her skirt and underwear off quickly and efficiently. He kissed up her milky white thighs, before unbuttoning his pants and coming up to claim her mouth again. She sat up with him, pulling off his pants and boxers.

She layed back down and moved her legs apart. He moved into her, slowly, but then picked up his pace once she was adjusted to him. She arched her back against him, wrapping her legs around his back. He placed kisses down her neck and shoulder blades while she clasped onto the headboard to brace herself.

She felt electric and soon found herself nearing climax. She came first, calling out slightly and he did, shortly after, murmuring her name in her hair.

Afterwords he rolled over next to her, both of them panting and sweating. Still drunk and heady, Hermione glanced over at him, holding his hand, and giggled. He knew the act was not rude or awkward and found it endearing and started laughing with her.

"Hey, Dean, how come you missed-," Neville started, arriving in the dormitory and noticing Dean in bed. Hermione covered her face with the covers, hoping not to be recognized.

Neville flushed red and turned to return to the common room. As soon as they were alone again she jumped from the bed, pulling her robe around her naked body and frantically collecting the rest of her clothing.

"I've gotta go, I'm sorry," she yelled after a thoroughly confused Dean Thomas.

With the robe wrapped tightly around her, the Gryffindors in the common room were unable to tell she was naked underneath as she rushed past them on her way out the portrait. She ran the entire way back to her common room , not looking up at anyone she passed.

Rushing into the Head Boy and Girl dormitory she was relieved to see no sign of Draco and rushed into her room, collapsing against the door, breathing heavily.

"Hermione?" came a knock at the door.