A/n: As of 10/14/2012, this chapter has been edited. Thanks to my amazing beta Tessa Cresswell :)

Mondays were always shit. Draco awoke with a raging hard on that he couldn't fix with Hermione in his bed so very near. If she woke he would never live it down. Sighing he stood and stretched his arms over his head grunting. He had to go speak with Potter today, something he was not looking forward to. It was part of the deal. Draco would return for extend hours of tests each week in order to keep his wand in his possession. He knew damn well Harry only gave it back to him so that he could know that his beloved Granger was safe. Oh the irritation on that note! No one seemed to trust him yet with it. Well, maybe Hermione did.

"Doubtful." He pulled out one of his cigarettes and prepared for his long day. He would have to stay for almost four hours, but he wouldn't be required to go back until next week, which was a good thing. He felt uncomfortable leaving her there for some reason, although he couldn't quite decide why. She'd been here by herself a few times and hadn't died. It was for short spurts of time though...perhaps that was it.

He put out the cigarette when he was ready to leave. He, Draco Malfoy, could never be seen with something so muggle like as a cigarette. Where had he picked up the addiction? Probably when he had first come here to this apartment complex. Some babe in the next room (her and her husband had moved out rather quickly after he moved in, probably from the, ahem...visit he had with her once) and offered him one the first day, and he had taken it for one reason or another, undoubtably curious. It was all downhill from there. A year later he was smoking every god damn day.

"Granger," he said, shoving his wand into one pocket and using his other hand to shake her, before smirking and running his fingers southward to the tops of her tits and lightly running his fingers over the skin. Her eyes snapped open.

"Malfoy." She pushed his hand off. "You must stop trying to wake me up this way."

He shrugged, his smirk still in place. "It works."

"Lovely."

He suddenly grabbed her arms and hauled her off the bed and slammed her into his body, his lips crashing into hers. She squirmed at the sudden contact between their bodies, taken back and highly (annoyingly) aroused. The contact only lasted a few moments before he pushed her back on the bed and straightened his shirt.

"And what," she gasped, her breath seeming absent, "was that."

He smiled. "Reminding you I'm still right here." He gazed at her. "I have to go see Potter. You'll be here by yourself until roughly two. I need an hour to pick up something." He rubbed her shoulder. "You going to be okay without me dear?"

She gave him an odd look and pushed his hand off. "I'm not a child, I'll be fine."

He chuckled. "Of course you will be...because you certainly never run to me for help." She opened her mouth to say something but he kept right on going. "If you need me you'll be able to reach me."

"How?" It was more of a curiosity to her than a thankful appreciation. She could certainly handle herself for several hours.

He nodded to a new necklace on the bedside table. When she'd fallen asleep it had certainly not been there beside her wand. It looked like a medallion, red-orange in color on an old chain. "Press your middle and pointer finger into the middle and I'll sense you're in trouble."

"Ha! And where did you come up with that little spell? I've certainly not read of something quite like that. You would need a part of yourself in the necklace not to mention-"

"Details later my dear." He looked at her sternly. "Wear it. I can tell when you're not."

"And how is that?"

He smirked. "I'll tell you later. I must be going now." He waved his wand and apparated from the room.

She was seated on the couch not twenty minutes later when there came a knock on the door. Curious, she stood, picking up her wand on the way. Peering out the peephole she was rather surprised to see the long locks of red hair framing her good friends face. Delighted, she swung the door open a smile piercing her face.

The hallway was empty, but she felt the uncomfortable cool breeze as the door swung open into the typically warm hallway (the heat always seemed to be on, which was only good sometimes). She felt watched then, and dared not step into the hallway. Too many damned movies told her she would be locked out of the safety of the apartment with whatever was here. The other movies she had seen told her that as soon as the door clicked shut she would be locked in with the predator.

Damn all the movies.

She shut the door with some concern, wishing that her cat had not run away some months earlier and was sure the extra presence would have made her more comfortable, even if it were only a cat. She felt the soft brush of fur against her palm and absentmindedly scratched the soft head. Wait, that was wrong wasn't it? Draco didn't harbor any pets.

She spun around, wand pointed at whoever was in there (not whoever dammit, him) and spoke swiftly. "Expelliarmus." For the first time she could remember, she was slightly off aim. "Oh come on Hermione! You aren't that nervous, get a grip! There's no time to panic!"

He on the other hand seemed very cool, a shallow smile on his lips as his dog walked around her. It happened quickly, while her mind was trailing on her idiocy at missing him. She was snaking her hand to the necklace, remembering Draco's warning to get him there if something went wrong, to wear it. She really didn't like herself for reaching up to it.

He spoke with ease, like he knew he was going to be victorious at his quest. Like he had the all the time in the world, and he wanted to spend time bothering her. "Confundus."

Her mind swiped free, and she felt her body slack as whatever had been crossing her mind seemingly disappeared. "Marcus is here," she thought stupidly. "This isn't our apartment though. This is Draco's and mine. His dogs here. Fuck that isn't good. I don't have a very tight grip on this wand-"

Her thoughts were interrupted by his voice, which seemed to cut through the silence like a knife, and a rather sharp one at that. Even in the hazy confused state Hermione momentarily found herself in she didn't have any confusion about what he said next.

"Imperio." She dropped the thin wood, not really hearing it hit the soft carpet as her hands were placed sternly at her sides and her legs closed and stood straight.

"Fuck."

He was smiling at her fully now, his ugly teeth peering out from beneath thin lips. They were five years apart, and at 26 he still didn't appeal to her real taste. He was muscular where needed (not quite up to where Draco was, she noted absentmindedly) and his coarse black hair seemed to stick up in rather irritating angles from his head, like he'd gotten shocked. But it was that horrid smile that really got beneath her skin, like it always had.

"Hello Hermione," he said in a rough voice, probably not as pleasant as he was trying to be. "Why don't we go and sit on the couch?" She followed, not able to stop her feet as she moved. The dog ran a few steps ahead of her, her wand in its teeth. Oh she knew exactly what was happening now, and she was not liking where it would likely be going.

"There now," he said as they sat side by side on Draco's couch. "I see you've found yourself a nasty little roommate." He snarled and she found herself shrinking back mentally. "What did I used to tell you about the Malfoy's? You were to never go near them! You disobeyed me you little bitch." His hand collided with the side of her face, and the red stinging she felt a few moments later brought back many, many memories she had been perfectly fine forcing from her head.

"And now look where you are," he continued, standing up and walking around the table. She wondered vaguely why he was using this particular spell if all he was really doing was having her sit still. A body bind would've done the same thing, and it wasn't Unforgivable. "You're in his apartment you slut! And don't start trying to say that you two are sleeping separately! I hear things my dear, and I notice things. You haven't been in that god damn bedroom of yours in days! You're sleeping in his bed I bet! And you two are probably screwing every night. Tell me the truth right now."

"I haven't slept with him sexually. I slept in the same bed but we didn't 'screw.' I can promise that." "Oh god, just shut up!"

"You lie! Tell me the truth."

"I can't lie. That is the truth."

"Ha!" He was pacing again. Perhaps the twit had simply lost his mind. "You know his reputation. Everyone knows his reputation. My younger cousin was in your year. She was fucking smitten with him, every god damn letter had a mention of him in it, and when he started becoming that 'sex god' I couldn't stand it. The Malfoy's are an embarrassment, before the war, during and now with the last one! Lucius never knew how to do anything, now he rots in Azkaban. Narcissa died and it's about fucking time. And Draco? Oh, he's just the bastard that thinks he can nail everyone." He had returned to her, now very close, and she could feel his legs pressing into her knees. "Stay." Somehow he knew her too well and the want to move back had been great. "And now you have strayed here my love? Are you trying to hide from me? Did some insane part of you think that you could ever be safe from me?" His rank breath was hitting her hard, making her want to gag slightly. Did he ever brush his teeth?

"No," he said after a moment, Hermione keeping her eyes down. "You're not that naive...perhaps he trapped you? Do you need me to kill the bad man for you?" He was nuzzling her ear, and it was beginning to feel quite awkward. "Do you want me to?"

"No."

His eyes snapped up. "Ha! Someone has obtained backbone since we last talked my dear." He had backed away, using his wand to shatter the coffee table, sending shards of glass around. He used another quick spell, creating a sound barrier between them and the outside world. "We'll just have to fix that."

Three hours later Draco felt rather unsettled. He had been unable to leave early, having felt some unusually strong pull towards Hermione and his apartment. He felt...pain? It seemed bad. Had she cut her damned skin again? No, it was a far stronger.

Potter was pursuing him as he hurriedly tried to exit the building. He had felt the pull to his apartment getting far stronger, and he really wanted to get out so he could apparate right back. The package would simply have to wait.

Unfortunately Harry jumped in his way just as he was reaching the doors to outside. "Not so fast Mr. Malfoy."

"Honestly Potter, I don't have time at this moment."

"I know, you often find reasons to leave as quickly as you can. But today I'm afraid you're needed."

"Well whatever it is it can wait." He went to shove Harry out of his way when he heard the voice behind him.

"It would be wise to stay Mr. Malfoy."

"Minister, I have something important to check-"

"A few more minutes won't change anything." Draco had turned to watch the older man, who now had disregarded the conversation and was heading back, no doubt to his very own office.

Harry grabbed loosely onto Draco's arm, not looking at his eyes as they began walking. Draco was highly tempted to run out and apparate, but figured he would only find himself in further trouble with the law, which might mean further suspension of his wand, and he honestly needed that. Hermione wasn't dying, he was absolutely sure of that. The connection he had made between himself, Hermione and the jewelry was very dark indeed, but he would know the moment serious physical pain inflicted her. He was also positive she would not like what he had done.

"Potter," he hissed, "it's about Hermione, I need to-"

"If you leave now he'll have your wand snapped. He's furious that I returned it in the first place, after your last incident. If you weren't a bloody Malfoy he probably wouldn't be so damn worried. She's ok."

"And how would you know?"

"She's in the apartment yes?"

He focused for a moment. "Yes."

"Then she'll be ok."

He chuckled quietly. "For being yourself Potter, of all people, you're very trusting in this little settlement we now find ourselves in."

"What settlement?"

"Putting our hope into some charms and the barrier of a fucking door. Ah!"

The minister stopped walking and turned to look at the two young men behind him.

The pain hit hard. He'd hit her with the spell countless times during their marriage, but it had been two months since she had last endured him, and the pain was fire.

She screamed.

"What's all this," he asked, walking towards Draco who was now on the ground one hand pressed lightly to his head. "Mr. Malfoy what's the matter with you?"

His mind swam. The spell he had used was powerful, and the Crucio curse was hurting her. Perhaps a less powerful connection would've been good, but this simply heightened his senses on the trouble she was certainly in. He didn't look up at the minister.

"I have to go. If you're wondering what could possibly be so important as to my departure then please by all means follow me to my god damn apartment." He stood and this time Harry did not get in the fucking way. Before he turned he could see the anger in the minister's eyes, but with his uncanny confidence he was sure the damned man would follow, whether out of outrage or curiosity.

"I can sense it," he said, holding his body just above hers. The scene reminded her of the war, when Bellatrix had been torturing her. Oh, the god damned memories were really going to be a bitch. "He has made some connection to you. He touched you didn't he? He's made a connection-I can tell. The air feels of him, like people feel when arrogant bastards come into a room. That feeling between discomfort and irritation. His presence is strong. Dark magic at work, right Hermione?" He licked her skin and she shuddered, the remaining marks on her body a large pain. "I'll return my dear, but I must be going before Malfoy gets here and ruins my plans."

Draco appeared in the living room of his apartment, noticing the disarray it was now in. He went instantly towards the couch; that damned pull. Perhaps he would lessen the connection, although he suddenly doubted it.

She was on the ground, slightly trembling like a spasm. The blood leaking into his carpet was the exact proof the minister behind him needed to see of how very crucial his leaving appeared to be. Draco was by her side in seconds, lifting the body from the ground as she slammed her eyes shut.

"You understand now Minister," he hissed, wandering towards the bedroom, noticing vaguely that Harry had not followed, probably told to stay and continue working. "Now if you don't mind I have something to take care of."

"She needs a proper doctor Mr. Malfoy," the minister said, following Draco into the bedroom where he set her down. "And this place isn't safe-what happened?"

"What happened," he snarled, the lights in his room blasting on. He wasn't about to remove a single piece of clothing until he was gone. "Her dear husband probably paid a visit. Or perhaps the ex." He glanced up at him briefly. "Whatever you bastards say you're doing to find him is obviously not working if he can come here twice." He was casting spells now, simple healing spells to repair the broken skin Hermione's attacker had sliced through.

"Flint? Marcus Flint? He's been here twice? Mr. Malfoy you should have reported it imm-"

"I did. Potter knew too." He looked at the necklace on her, wondering vaguely why she hadn't grabbed it. "Don't try to go high and mighty on me; it's not going to do a damn thing."

"She needs to be moved to a safer location."

"Oh, this is plenty safe. The only access in is to be let in, and trust me I will be taking care of everything tonight. Your Aurors can come and look if they please, but no one is protecting my damn apartment."

"Mr. Malfoy-" his voice had rose.

"Don't. This is my home, and if you have an issue with what I'm doing then you can fuck off I'm afraid. If Hermione wishes to leave she may as soon as I finish healing her. As I've told her I'm not holding her here against her will. You on the other hand I am asking you to leave. Take my magic fine, but not until you get a hold of her husband am I giving it up."

The minister left several minutes later after a rather annoying conversation, which eventually resulted in Aurors coming to see them the following day, although they were not required to speak. Hermione was no longer bleeding by the time he left, although the marks were still clearly visible.

He had her stripped down into her underwear a few minutes later, inspecting the damage more closely. He knew damn well Flint had used the Crucio Curse on her, the only spell that would've caused the jolt of pain even he felt. Imperio wouldn't have caused that pain. The majority appeared to have been made by glass, for whatever reason that was. From all his time with his father, and Voldemort along with the war, he knew some damn good healing spells as he had often been unable to make potions.

Although the physical pain was healed in no more than twenty minutes, she stayed quiet. It was three in the afternoon when he crawled in beside her, surprised when she shyly slid up to him and took his arm, wrapping it around her cool body. He wrinkled his brow.

"What's that for?"

She didn't open her eyes when she replied. "My protection."

When the Aurors arrived the next morning Hermione was still asleep. In fact she was asleep through the entire visit. They looked through the apartment, asked him questions he didn't and couldn't always answer, investigated her room, and finally left two hours later. Unable to talk to Hermione herself, they explained they would be back Monday to speak to her, and give her a few days time to recover from her attack.

It was eight that night before she woke up alone. Draco himself had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room, and she was sure he wouldn't wake for a while.

Hermione's mind was a bit upset, arguing with itself. Half of it was completely absorbed in the events of what she assumed to be yesterday, and the other half missed the body that had been next to her, had healed her in fact, and desired a comfort above all.

They may not live together any longer, but Marcus had a hold on her. He knew who she had trusted through the years they were together, and who she wouldn't hesitate to approach. Ginny Weasley had been an ideal candidate to become, someone she would never suspect. Unfortunately she should've thought better-and she was internally screaming at herself-of the sudden appearance. Her head was obviously clouded by that point. Absentmindedly she reached up and touched the necklace that was still tight around her.

"Yes?" She was startled, having thought he had been in the living room. Now he was crouching over her from his spot on the side of the bed, looking down into her eyes.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything."

"You touched the necklace," he replied. "Is something wrong?"

"Why, no." She wrinkled her eyebrows. "You got in here rather fast."

His traditional Malfoy smirk took a spot on his lips. "Interesting isn't it? Something that puzzles your Mudblood mind, hmm?"

"I thought we were past that."

"We are, but I must use it occasionally, or I'm just not myself." He grabbed the blankets that had slid down and covered her scantily clad body. "Sleep. You've been through a rather bad ordeal."

"I feel fine."

"Perhaps, but sleep will ensure it. Go on, I'll even join you."

"What a surprise."

"You don't like it?"

"Now you're just putting words in my mouth."

For Hermione sleep was hard to come by now that she wasn't tired from her encounter. She tossed and turned and at one point in the night spun and completely slapped Draco directly in the nose.

By morning he had moved over to the couch. When she woke up she found herself alone again, and surprisingly happy to be. Distantly the shower to the master bedroom could be heard, but she wasn't concerned. Her silk bathrobe lay nearby and she reached for it.

The fabric was cool on her skin, but her focus was elsewhere-actually, it was on the large bookcases in the corner of his room, stacked full. The light of her wand was enough for her to scan through the titles on the spines. She had read thousands of books, her knowledge both of the wizarding world and muggle world ever expanding with each page she turned. Fantasy wasn't something she often read; it didn't bring her knowledge that she yearned for. Fiction was her favorite; cold hard facts that she could fill her brain up with.

This morning she had her mind set on what she wanted. The necklace that still lay around her neck was her biggest curiosity right then. Her body still had a dull ache from her encounter with Marcus, and for the life of her she could barely remember a single detail of the encounter. It was like that slate in her mind had been swiped clean before he left. Right before Draco had come in she believed.

She felt unsurprised but uncomfortable as she read the titles, noticing that several were about dark magic, titles she had vaguely seen in Malfoy manner, on the rare occasion during the war when she had had a few moments to glance at titles. He said he had switched to a lighter side, proven by his choice of job as an Auror, yet he kept all these books? Did he think that the magic held inside would prove more successful than some of what he could use with light magic? She involuntarily shuddered.

She heard the water in the shower stop, and she dashed back into the bed, throwing the bathrobe off. She had become instantly aware that she didn't want Draco to see her snooping through those books under any circumstances. She couldn't quite place why, but she felt it would cause a large rift between the two if he saw.

The bathroom door opened a few minutes later and Draco wandered out, hair wet. She had her eyes lightly closed, considering whether she wanted to sleep or not. She heard him shuffling around the room for a while before he spoke. "I'm going out for a bit today. Just down the hall." She didn't respond, wondering if he believed her fake sleep. "I know you're awake. I heard you wandering around when I turned off the water."

She sighed and opened her eyes. He was waving his wand, charming his hair dry. "Whatever is down the hall?"

"I have someone I need to speak to. I'd bring you along...but I don't particularly feel comfortable doing so. I should only be gone but twenty minutes."

"Who are you going to speak with then?" She wrinkled up her eyebrows, knowing he was hiding something. "Just tell me."

"In time, I promise."

"You're beginning to sound like one of those very old men, who try to always be mysterious and confuse you for no particular reason other than entertainment. Are you honestly trying to age that quickly Draco?"

"Ha! Like I'm ever looking forward to growing old."

"Always."

"Bullshit." He wandered towards the door of the room. "I'll tell you soon."

"Oh please, you're never going to tell me anything."

He shrugged. "If that's how you want me to be, then sure."

She rolled her eyes. "Just go talk to your friend."

"Commanding now are we?"

"Marcus is." "Eh, something I thought would be fun to try." He shook his head and headed towards the front door.

Hermione waited in bed for the distinctive click of the door shutting before she moved. The bedroom light was now on, and although she felt terribly afraid he could return at any moment, she also remembered Draco was just down the hall.

"Does it really make a difference? Does he actually believe I'm safe?" She didn't remember him casting spells, although she had been sleeping quite a bit, so she could've missed all of it. She wandered back to the bookcase, this time dismissing the robe and braving it in just her bra and panties.

She waved her wand, and the magic lifted any of the potentially dark magic-spell books from their places in the shelves. They swirled around her in a circle, all opening to random pages as though they would help. She watched them dance from the shelves into the spinning circle, watching intently at each that came to her, placing the names in a careful section of her mind to look back upon later when she had more than twenty minutes to look through them. 17, 18, 19-

The last book to come from the shelves brought a rather large surprise. The bookcase instantaneously slid back about a foot. Losing concentration, she let the books fall, raising an eyebrow at the interesting discovery. Her curiosity grew as she gazed at the new place, and, glancing back at the clock and noting the time, she stepped over to the new place.

Peering inside she wrinkled her nose. Knowing Draco Malfoy for who he had been since he was 11, the small apartment had been a rather large surprise, and she had wondered internally why he had never picked a grander place considering his stature, and wealth. However, she had yet to question that. This discovery brought on the same curiosity as she peered into the room, having been expecting something grand and magically compressed into a space everyone else didn't see, yet this was no larger than her bathroom in the apartment. Stepping in she noticed it was rather plain for him, the walls a plain wood and the floor unfinished. On the walls she was rather alarmed to see those damned pictures, the ones that she was so sure had to have been still hanging in Malfoy Manner.

The eyes of Lucius Malfoy were the first thing to look at her. "Why look, my bastardly son has brought home the Mudblood indeed. I see he hasn't lied."

She didn't step in further, wondering how he had moved that picture here. It would be rather difficult to move an object of that power such a distance, and if it were achieved at all some damage would've been done. It looked pristine however; even better than her first look at it. The pictures were a dead soul's way to speak sometimes, and she couldn't possibly begin to understand how he could have moved it. There were pictures to the side of Lucius, Narcissa and another Malfoy she did not recognize. "Such work."

"Slut," the picture muttered, still only a whisper in her mind as she took in the room. "Dirty little Mudblood. How dare my son touch you? Such filth...pawing at my son? The nerve!"

She had forgotten by then that she was still clothed in almost nothing. Her eyes had drawn from the dimly lit photos of the room, into the middle. She tilted her head, rather confused about what she saw, even more so than the pictures of the Malfoy's. The pensieve sat there, she was damn sure of what it was. "How did he ever obtain that? The Malfoy's never owned one of those, did they?"

Hermione had noticed the cold by then, and the rational part of her mind that always seemed to pull through told her to check the time. Lucius was saying something from his prison of a frame, but she didn't listen to the words as she peered out the entrance with alarm. At least 17 minutes had passed. Absurd!

She desperately wanted to stay and ask Draco what all this was, but that irritating rational side of her told her now was not the time. She had that feeling again that having him find her there would not be good. Another time.

She quickly stepped from the little room, looking carefully over the books scattered around until she noticed the book that had opened the nice little room. The title was something in Latin or Greek, and she would certainly be looking at that sometime. She waved her wand, replacing it into its exact place, watching the bookcase slide back into place with some disappointment. The adventurous side of her wanted to explore.

She replaced the books quickly, crawling back into the bed, throwing the blankets over her before she actually realized just how cold she was, and, even more so, that she had been in the presence of 'Lucius' (what she supposed was Lucius) in nothing but her underwear. "Oh god, no wonder he thought I was a slut!"

21 minutes he'd been gone. No one had come in, and nothing unsettling had crossed her mind. She was uncomfortable, and although she wanted to see what was in there, she also wanted Draco to return before something happened.

She almost touched the necklace, before she remembered that it would cause him to come rocketing back. "He's got too many damn secrets."

She didn't say anything the rest of the day. Draco returned home and they spent an unusually cozy time on the couch watching some mindless movie Draco didn't know and Hermione didn't like. Somehow, they spent the whole night laughing.

Thursday they spent a lot of time looking through some of his books (none of the books she had been looking at vaguely just yesterday, nor the one that opened the room) but a few she had never heard of and she set them aside to read as a pastime.

"What about this one," she asked as innocently as possible, reaching for the Latin (she was sure it had to be Latin) book that opened the room, and noticed his instant grip on her wrist.

"It;s just a bunch of rubbish. A bit of history, a few spells that don't do anything, nothing really that interesting."

"Well why can't we at least look?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Because I said so, and my girl should listen to me." He playfully kissed her cheek.

"That's a lame excuse!"

"Perhaps," he said, circling her waist with his arms, "but you'll listen to me." He powerfully kissed her lips, almost causing her to melt.

"Oh get off," she said, pushing him back. "Just a quick peek?"

"Nope." He whisked the books back into their places, minus the few she had selected to read. "We should eat."

"You should learn better excuses." I'll let it go, for now. There's always tomorrow or next week. I have plenty of time to get my answers.

Friday Draco didn't even let her near the bookcase, and by the time she fell into the bed that night she was thoroughly frustrated. They slept together in that bed now, as of Monday when he had joined her probably to protect, and she had taken that little extra step by wrapping his arm around her and snuggling in.

Saturday Hermione didn't have much contact with Draco until almost nine, having been kicked from his bedroom early on so he could make a phone call on that stupid cellular phone he hadn't mentioned originally. She spent the hours watching TV and eating (noticing with irritation she had taken on the life of a fat man) and reading the books he'd allowed her to take from the shelves.

It was between that morning and nine that she found herself thinking about Draco, and even more so the certain part of him she had yet to see. It bothered her that that was what she was thinking about, considering that he was the boy who had bullied her through all of school and had been an enemy. Now he was lusting after her, and here she was thinking about his dick? Oh god! Something was certainly wrong with her! Perhaps she had a fever.

She knew damn well why she was focused on that. For once she had gotten up before him, and since he had been unable to sneak from the bed before her eyes opened she had felt that hard body part pressing into her ass from between thin sheets of material. It had made her highly uncomfortable...and aroused.

"Oh god. I like the insufferable prick. Something's certainly wrong with me."

By the time they were on the couch eating dinner, she found her mind split between that certain piece of Draco and the fact that Marcus's had been the same against her leg on Monday. Disturbing.

Sunday Hermione found herself wanting to smack him instead of touch him.

"Draco, give me that!" she snapped.

"Yes but one moment." He had the letter in his hand and they were chasing each other through the apartment like children, wands discarded in the bedroom. "Honestly Hermione you should've told me you had been invited to such a grand ball my dear." He was laughing.

"I considered," she said, finding herself on the opposite side of the couch from him, "but I figured you would just beg me to let you go as my date." It's strange how they both have that very same term for me, 'my dear'.

"Ha! Me, beg? You'll never see the day!"

"Oh, I assume you will sometime, it just depends how long it takes." She smirked.

"And now you've stolen my signature, the nerve."

"I believe your signature is that ungodly blond hair." He dashed off towards the kitchen with her right behind him, and turned the game around as he spun to face her, causing her to slam painfully into his chest. He had a grip on her before she could ever hit the ground.

"I will certainly go with you."

"And what makes you believe you have a right to invite yourself," she asked, pushing his arms away and placing her hands on her hips.

"Well, would you really take anyone else?" He was leaning back against the bar, smirking that devilish smirk at her. "Would you do that to me girl?"

"Girl? Now I'm a girl!"

He laughed. "Oh hell no," he said, standing back up fully and looking her over, just like he had done so very much that first day, "you're defianetly all woman."

"Charming. Well Draco, I didn't plan on going in the first place."

"And why would that be?"

"The guest list is highly unappealing." He wrapped his arms around her again, holding her in place with a stone look on his face as though to make her continue. She sighed. "My ex husbands will be-"

"Husbands?" He wasn't smiling, in fact his eyes had gotten rather dark. "As in both Krum and Flint?"

"That's what I was told, although I doubt Flint will be there with the event he caused Monday." She inwardly flinched at the broken, hard to grasp memory. He must've tried to have banished it from her mind without complete success.

"I wouldn't doubt if he were to show. He's a stupid bastard, over confident in getting everything he wants. He'll surely be there."

"I doubt he'd risk being arrested over a dance."

Draco shrugged, already sure that Flint would find some way in if he knew Hermione would be there. "And when is this?"

"Christmas Eve."

He smirked. "Now we have our plans for that night."

And I have my way to catch him.