She couldn't get it out of her head. Every single moment, for the past week, she had been reliving that kiss. She'd tried her hardest to stay away from Draco. She kept pretty much in her room. And even there, she was afraid he'd come through that door again. It seemed every time he stepped into the room she had to kiss him – or at least, she had wanted to.
Just that morning, Lucius had come back and pressed her hand into Draco's hand.
"I realize that you two have most likely apologized about all that happened in your school days, but I also realize there was most likely a great amount of hatred between you. Please, do apologize. I would feel so much better."
"I apologize, Hermione," Draco said, "for the names, the unkindness, and everything I have said about your friends."
This feels oddly like wedding vows, she thought. "I accept your apology, and I apologize, Draco," she said, "for the names, the unkindness, hitting you in third year, making fun of you behind your back, and, of course, any other mean-spirited thing I have done to you in the past."
"I accept your apology." They both looked at his father, who let their hands go. For a moment, they stayed, but realizing where they were, they let them drop.
Still, Hermione could not shake the tingling in her hands that had been there since Lucius had forced them to meet Draco's own.
Just as she was rubbing them again, trying to get the tingle out, Draco came in. This time, he was actually fully clothed. (Draco fangirls: Awww! cry)
And, although she'd never admit it to his face, she did want to rip them off his body… She wanted to see every inch of him, and for him to… No. Remember the terms, she reminded herself.
Draco looked at her laying on the large bed. Her skirt, though perfectly modest, seemed too sexy to be legal everywhere. Her shirt… oh, for the love of… her thin white spaghetti-strap shirt was spread across her flat stomach and stretched over her chest. He could easily make out the lacy fabric that was her bra. He wondered if her underwear matched. He, too, scolded himself for letting his thoughts go too far in that direction. It was almost unbelievable to him that a mere month ago, they'd hated each other.
He found himself walking to her bed. And she sat up, and he fell into her. And she whispered, "No regrets."
It was wrong. It was against everything they knew. It was inevitable.
A/N: No complaints about the "sex scene" (or, actually, lack thereof), right? Right. I'm keeping this fic rated T, okay? Kay, now that I've rambled, it's time for…. REVIEWS! Go on… click the pretty button…