Chapter Nine

Hermione drifted slowly back to the world of consciousness. She'd slept soundly last night, enveloped by a strange sense of peace that consumed her body. She felt content, and unbelievably at ease. She had no idea what time what was, but didn't find herself caring. She was just so relaxed. Her sheets were silky against her skin, her mattress far more comfortable than she could ever recall it being. It was much bigger too; as she stretched out her sore limbs, her feet didn't even graze the end of the bed. Wait, why was she so sore? Her thighs ached painfully, her backside burned.

With a start, Hermione opened her eyes. Please let that have been a dream. Her sight betrayed her. Emerald sheets covered her body, the large room around her was far more opulent than anything she could afford let alone live in. The bed was massive, easily twice the size of her own. That was when she remembered.

Flashes of the previous night entered her mind. The pain, the pleasure, the all-encompassing male that was Malfoy. Her body warmed considerably as she recalled some of the events. Had she actually allowed him to spank her? The thought was rather chilling. She had thought it was all a dream, a fantasy of her deepest, darkest desires. A ball of dread entered her stomach as the weight of what she had done fully registered.

She had slept with Draco Malfoy. She had shagged her high school enemy. She had lost her innocence to a man who didn't give two shits about her.

Tears sprung to her eyes as she pulled the sheets around her body. She was alone, but she could hear the shower in a connecting room. She looked down at the floor, eyeing her discarded clothes. Glancing once at the closed door, she darted to grab her things, pulling them on as quickly as she could.

She felt nothing but disgust for herself. How could she have lost control like that? He didn't even get her drunk, so she couldn't blame anything but herself. She looked around for her wand, frustrated that she hadn't stopped. It wasn't that she was abstinent, but she wanted her first time to be with someone who actually cared. Was that really so much to ask for? Apparently, to Hermione, it was.

She finished putting her belt on, securing it around her waist, when Malfoy walked into the room. Her mouth dried as she eyed him. He had nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, one of his hands holding it securely at his hips, the other was running another towel through his hair. He had yet to notice her, and she didn't mind in the slightest. It meant more time to ogle his perfect form. Drops of water clung to his alabaster skin, dripping down his chiseled chest and arms. She couldn't help but let her eyes gaze down, admiring his perfect physique.

No. She couldn't do this. Hermione was not going to lose herself again, no matter how sinfully tempting Malfoy was. She cleared her throat, attempting to get his attention. His head swung up, his grey eyes meeting hers. His eyes burned, making her body come alive underneath his hot gaze. A smile lifted at the corners of his lips, a slight cheeriness overcoming his expression. Her heart fluttered, and Hermione had to struggle to keep upright. He should smile more often. It really suited him.

Godric it wasn't fair. He wasn't allowed to have this affect on her.

"Good morning." He greeted, walking over to one of the dressers. He proceeded to drop the towel, changing into new clothes..

Fuck. This whole restraint thing was going to be harder than she thought.

Words Hermione. Focus on words. Ignore him. Use your brain. Picture Ron. . .nevermind don't do that. Focus on something, anything. Oh look, a bookcase!

"Morning." She squeaked. Merlin, she was so awkward. Was this how all the 'morning-afters' were? If so, she could do without them. They reduced her to a stuttering fool. Then again, Malfoy had that ability no matter what. She sighed heavily.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, half-dressed. He really should do that somewhere else, or just stop making her talk. How was she supposed to carry a conversation when in the presence of a God? She wondered idly if his parents force-fed him a beautification potion as a child. It would make sense.

"I'm sore, to be honest." Hermione replied at last. Her voice was far too breathy for her liking. A blush covered her face. She sat back down on the colossal bed, realizing she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon with the look he was giving her.

"That was to be expected. I'll get a potion for the pain." Malfoy snapped his fingers, a small house elf appearing.

"What can Bipsy do for Master?" He asked, an eager look in his eyes.

"Bipsy, I want you to get me a vial of star grass salve, and start breakfast." He commanded the small creature. The house elf complied happily before disappearing with a 'pop'.

She glared at the blond-haired man. He noticed her look and rolled his eyes.

"Don't start." He said simply before coming over to sit beside her. The change in his proximity was doing strange things to her. Her heart began to pound, her breathing was limited altogether. Gods he was just so attractive.

"Breathe, Granger." He smirked, rubbing a thumb along her bottom lip. She inhaled sharply, her body obeying his command before she could think to object. This was not good. This was not good at all. Hermione's eyes were captivated by his stormy depths. Malfoy leaned in to her, capturing her lips in a soft, yet possessing kiss.

It was as though he knew she was desperate to leave, and was slowly eroding her resolve into nothing. She wanted to keep a clear head, she really did, but it was impossible when he was doing that thing with his tongue.

"Here's Master's potion. Breakfast is ready." Bipsy cheered, merrily setting the potion on the bedside table, oblivious to the two on the bed. Hermione jerked apart from Malfoy, grateful for the little house elf's interruption. Malfoy, however, looked irritated. Bipsy disappeared once more, the crackle in the air signaling his departure.

Malfoy grabbed the potion, handing it to her. There was still that feeling from deep inside her. With every smoldering glance Malfoy gave her, she felt it simmer to the surface, igniting her desire. She wanted nothing more than to beg for him to fuck her again. She gulped down the vile liquid, frowning at the acrid taste.

Neither of them spoke as Malfoy led her through the many halls to the dining room. She would slow down every once in a while, admiring the space around her. This house, manor, whatever it was, seemed to exude opulence and luxury. She felt as though she were walking through a famous French Chateau. Every time she touched something, she expected a tour guide to pop out and yell at her. She giggled slightly at the picture of Malfoy being yelled at by an old tour guide. He turned around and eyed her strangely.

"Do you find something amusing, Miss Granger?" He asked silkily. She stopped laughing, a flush spreading throughout her body. Damn. That was just from his voice.

"N-No." she stammered. She cursed her ineptitude. She couldn't even hold a bloody conversation with the man. Malfoy's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Really, Miss Granger? Because I'm getting the feeling I'm being made fun of, and I'd like to know why." Oh no. Now she'd done it. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. He took a step forward, so she took a step back. He looked very much like a predator seconds before it captures its prey. He kept walking towards her, smirking sinfully.

Hermione yelped slightly as her back collided with the wall. Malfoy placed his hands on either side of her head, effectively caging her in. Why did this keep happening? She wanted to go home and clear her head. He was making that damn near impossible.

"I'm not making fun of you." Hermione mumbled, her breath catching in her throat as he licked his lips. He stepped closer, his body flushed against hers. She could feel the heat radiating from his body through her layers of clothing. Her skin warmed considerably, her desire flaring to life once more.

He leaned into her, his nose millimeters away from hers. She wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her, to ravish her, all over again.

"I don't believe you, Miss Granger. I don't tolerate deceit." He scolded, his breath landing on her face. She had half a mind to grip onto him and kiss him with everything she had. Godric, how could one man be so tempting? Everything that was Malfoy invaded her senses. She had to remind herself to breathe. Dammit, get yourself together, Hermione!

"I'm not lying, Mr. Malfoy." She retorted, staring into his silver eyes. They had darkened, resembling a storm. A vicious storm. A shudder ran down her spine. With just a single look, a simple flicker of change in his expression, she was filled yearning. The strength of the emotion startled her. He was so close to her lips, so close to making her forget all of the reasons why she should push him away and say no.

Malfoy smirked, then released her from the cage of his arms. He backed away from her, giving her much needed space to clear her mind. She was beyond irritated though. She was all but begging him, and he smirked and turned away! He stepped through a set of large double doors without so much as a backwards glance. Hermione leaned heavily against the wall, taking in much needed gulps of air.

Basic motor functions like breathing became a near impossible task when in his presence. She pushed herself off of the wall, regaining her balance. She walked through the doors after him. Her eyes widened as she took in the room. It was large, nearly the length of one side of Hermione's flat to the other. The ceiling above them must have been thirty feet, with three chandeliers. She swore the house didn't have a single modern light fixture, just glittering crystal chandeliers that were probably worth more than Hermione's life.

She couldn't help but be slightly envious of his wealth. This was his families money, and with the enterprise he'd built from the company, she could only imagine what the Malfoy family was worth. She read in the gossip column of Witch Weekly that they were the wealthiest family in Europe that wasn't royalty. She couldn't be certain if that were true or not, but decided not to bring it up.

The table before her looked to be twenty feet long, and every inch of the carved wood was covered in food. Hermione's mouth watered, her stomach grumbling lowly as she gazed on at the expanse of breakfast items that were spread along the table.

Everything imaginable, from eggs to meats to pastries, were placed before her. Her eyes widened. Surely he didn't expect the both of them to finish all of this.

"I didn't know what foods you liked, so I had them cook up a few of my favorite meals." Malfoy said, suddenly behind her. She jumped, startled by his proximity. She should really start paying attention. Even after going through the war, she still hadn't managed to refine her sense of who or what was around her. It was a trait she knew Malfoy to have, and she envied him for it.

"Thank you." Hermione said belatedly. He placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her to one of the seats. Malfoy sat at the head of the table, and she beside him. She was positive that she'd be yelling at him if she were to sit opposite him. He began to fill his plate, so she did the same. Hermione remembered his snapping at her the night before, so she didn't pick too much food. She didn't want to anger him again. She sighed. He was almost as bad as Ginny, when the redhead felt she didn't eat enough.

Oh, no. Ginny!

"I forgot to tell Ginny where I am." Hermione told him, as he noticed her panicked expression.

"Don't worry, I told her you spent the night with me. I flooed to her this morning. Your friend can be rather, persistent." He stated easily. Dread pooled in her stomach. Godric, she was in for a lecture the moment she got home, she was sure of it. She could imagine her friend now, fiery red hair blazing as though it were actually an inferno atop her head, her blue eyes darkened and narrowed as she scolded her for having a one-off with Draco-Sodding-Malfoy.

She grimaced, whimpering slightly. She didn't want to even know what made him call her 'persistent'. Her curiosity burned through her, wondering what sorts of embarrassing questions her friend could have asked the blond next to her. A frown marred her features.

"Do I even want to ask what she said?" Hermione sighed after a while. She nibbled on a crepe, moaning as the taste of nutella greeted her tongue. This man was going to be the death of her. She was positive. She glanced at him under her lashes, worried about what he was going to say. To her surprise, his trademark smirk was placed upon her lips.

She was going to kill Ginny Weasley.

"She, after much ranting might I add, proceeded to ask rather personal questions. I don't know how you share a flat with someone so nosy." He grimaced. He frowned before taking a sip of coffee.

"I'm sorry for whatever she may have drilled you about. Merlin knows that woman is tenacious." Hermione said after a beat. He nodded in agreement.

"I must admit though, I'm rather glad she is." He had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Desire danced through her, alighting her nerve endings once more. Her skin warmed considerably.

"Why's that?" She asked, licking her suddenly dry lips. Her breathing was becoming shallow already. She really could admire him all day, especially with that look he was giving her.

"If it weren't for her persistence, I might have never accepted the interview." Malfoy said. Hermione felt her heart flutter, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. That was almost. . .romantic. She shivered.

"It was also a stroke of luck she fell ill. Otherwise you and I might not be having this conversation right now." He continued.

That was it. She felt the last bit of her resistance fade. She couldn't stay mad at him. No matter what argument she told herself, he contradicted each one. Especially the 'he's not good for you'. If anything, his roguish appeal and bad boy history made him all the more appealing. Add the fact that he's a wealthy man who already made his mark in the world, and was an intelligent wizard. Hermione was doomed to be hooked.

"Did I just detect a compliment, Mr. Malfoy?" She asked cheekily, attempting to stop herself from grinning like a drunken fool. How were his simple words of flattery enough to make her into a blushing school girl? It made her slightly frustrated at herself. Did she not have any kind of self-restraint? Apparently not.

"Indeed you did, Miss Granger." He smirked, his eyes darkening to that entrancing storm gray. Oh dear, she should really start distracting herself. Hermione finished her crepe, and began nibbling on a few strawberries. She was never a big morning eater. She hoped he didn't scold her for it.

They ate in comfortable silence, neither willing to break the peace that had settled upon them. At last, the house elves cleared the table. Hermione wanted to help, she really did, but she understood that she would only have panicking house elves crying about how they didn't want to be freed. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness whenever she saw one though. They all reminded her of Dobby.

"I'll owl you the contract later today, just so you can get a sense as to what I'm looking for. I still expect an answer by Friday." Malfoy said after a while. Contract? Oh, yeah. She had completely forgotten about that. She cursed her raging hormones for not allowing her to ask him more about it last night. His look of finality indicated he wasn't going to inform her much about it anytime soon. She gulped, momentarily panicked. Today was Tuesday. That gave her four days to decide whether she wanted to commit-without-committing to the beautiful man beside her. She took another sip of her coffee.

Hermione checked her purse, nearly slapping herself for forgetting she had it. She checked her mobile phone, surprised when it actually worked. Typically in predominantly magical areas, it didn't work. Hermione wondered idly if Malfoy did have muggle things in this home. It was a rather surprising thought. She still remembered him being a racially prejudiced boy who swore he would never go near anything remotely muggle with a ten foot pole. She had to keep reminding herself that he was a changed man. Checking the time on the phone, horror flooding through her.

"I should be going, I have work in an hour. Thank you for everything, Malfoy." She hastily rose from her seat.

"I'll accompany you back." Malfoy said, rising with her.

"It's alright, I don't want to make you go out of your way." Hermione said, going through her mental checklist to make sure she had everything. She thought she did, and turned towards the direction of the doors.

"Granger, I'm coming with you." His voice held a tone of finality that dared her to argue. His authority was not lost on her, but she didn't like it.

"It's okay, you don't have to." She argued, leaving the room. A flash of irritation crossed his features, his eyes narrowing.

"Tell me Granger, do you even know where a fireplace is, let alone one connected to the floo?" He challenged. Hermione frowned. She didn't, but she didn't want to back down. She huffed, turning around to go back to his room. She remembered a fireplace in there, and she decided it wouldn't hurt to start there.

Hermione managed to get to his room before Malfoy grabbed her, pining her to the closest wall. He did that far too much. His hips held her in place, his hands grabbing ahold of hers, dragging them above her head. He wedged one knee between her legs. She was trapped. Her heart skipped as trepidation wracked her body. She really pissed him off now.

"Granger, look at me." He growled when she didn't meet his eyes. Warily, she looked at his chin, knowing she probably couldn't handle the anger in his eyes at the moment.

"Granger." His voice dropped lower, and every sense in her body screamed danger. Fuck. She really pissed him off.