I just adore this part of the story. I promise you'll love it as much as I will! I'm going to be bringing in more characters as time goes on, and we'll see how all of their stories intertwine into one. These chapters are also going to be getting longer to cover more ground. If you have any suggestions, feel free to PM me! Let's get this up over 10,000 views guys! We're ALMOST THERE! :D REVIEW!

Chapter 17:

McGonagall moved through the hallways swiftly, the hem of her black dress dragging across the tile floor. She entered the hallway in front of the Great Hall to see Mr. Nott standing with Lucius Malfoy and Snape. The breath inside her chest caught as she stared at the two Death Eaters in her castle, praying to Merlin that this wouldn't be a repeat of the fateful night her dear Albus had been taken. Her eyes narrowed as she placed her hands inside her robes, her fingers gripped around her wand tightly. She cleared her throat as not to draw attention. Snape didn't pay her any mind, but Lucius and Nott both turned to stare at the Headmistress. Lucius' lips curved into the signature Malfoy sneer. McGonagall squared her shoulders.

"I assume you have a reason to be here, Lucius."

"Of course, Minerva. I thought it best to accompany Mr. Nott to his meeting with Severus," Lucius's cunning voice replied. His grey eyes, so like his son's, bore into her own. They held a warning, but she didn't take heed to it.

"I never received word you would be escorting him," her rigid voice barked. Lucius tilted his head only slightly. "I'm sure Severus has had enough of your taunting from your… Master. I assume that is why you are here, to deliver a message from him."

"You know nothing, Minerva McGonagall!" Mr. Nott spat. Snape's black eyes drifted to his companion and then back to the Headmistress.

"Now, now, Rowley," Lucius, ever the diplomat, said and put his hand on Nott's arm which had been raised a few inches off of his thigh. "Let's pay the Headmistress respect, we are in her castle."

"You'll do right to remember that," McGonagall glared at the two men. "If you are most finished, Severus will see you out."

She had turned her back only a quarter inch when Nott's voice filled her ears again. It took all her composure to not turn and cast a full body-bind on him and send him out of her caste that way. But, the impression on her students would not be a good one, so she allowed him to spat his filth. Except, this time it was about his son. McGonagall wasn't surprised; obviously Nott Sr. had been unable to locate his offspring.

"I have unfinished business here, witch. I have yet to collect my son."

McGonagall turned to the man with her eyebrows raised. "The collection of young Theodore is not permitted, Mr. Nott. After all, he is of age and he has chosen to stay in the castle. Surely you understand…"

Nott's blue eyes lit on fire almost like the Christmas lights that surrounded the elders. "My son is to come with me IMMEDIATELY!"

"Lucius," McGonagall turned her attention back to the blonde man who only stared at her coolly. "It would do you well to remind Mr. Nott of Ministry regulations, if you would be so kind. I must be leaving. I do bid you all a good Christmas Eve."

McGonagall ignored Nott's shouting as she descended up the stairs behind her. Although her insides were burning with hatred for the Death Eaters in her castle, she felt rather proud for standing up to them. Lucius had always been a cunning man, but she knew he hadn't a problem reminding Mr. Nott of Ministry laws, after all, if they broke those laws, it would throw off their plan to overtake the Ministry. As she rounded the corner, she noticed a slight movement in the shadows and a figure attempting to reach one of the moving staircases. Knowing she was out of earshot from the three men in front of the Great Hall, and hearing Severus escort them from the other direction, she knew she was safe in calling the young man out.

"You can come out, Theodore."

The figure stopped moving from the staircase and turned to face the Headmistress in the light. He was in the same dress robes as an hour ago, leaning against one of the pillars. They met eyes as she made her way up to where he was standing.

"I assume you heard everything," she said curtly.

"Yes ma'am," came his reply, and his voice, was relief. Relief that he didn't have to go back to the Nott residence with his estranged father, and relief that he dodged the bullet from seeing Voldemort for another few days.

"You do realize that if your father persists, I can only keep you here for so long," McGonagall said. Theo's eyes dropped to the floor, but when they looked back at her, they were full of perseverance. "Eventually, Ministry regulations will mean nothing here. When that time comes, I will have to send you away. Until then, you will do your best to avoid your father. You are under our protection until it is no longer possible."

"I appreciate it. A lot of the others in my year don't think the same way I do, you know," he shrugged. "There may be one or two that agree with me, but I am rather outspoken…"

"I trust you will learn to watch your mouth then, young Mister Nott," McGonagall said with a smirk.

"I am trying, ma'am, it's just a bit hard for me," Theo said with a smile.

"I suggest you take up arms with Mr. Finnegan. When the time comes, you two would work wonderfully together," McGonagall suggested.

The look on Theo's face was a mix of displeasure and curiosity. As he thought about what she had just told him, she excused herself and walked up the stairs. She knew that Snape would meet her halfway, but before he had even got to her, she saw two familiar faces heading her way. Remus Lupin and Arthur Weasley intercepted her, both had their wands in their hands. It was not hard to guess that Severus had owled them that Mr. Nott and Mr. Malfoy were in the castle.

"Is everything alright? We just Floo'ed in from your office, I hope you don't mind, Minerva, but Severus said Rowley Nott and Lucius Malfoy are here?" Arthur demanded quickly.

McGonagall fell into step with the two Order members. "Yes, they are here. I am not so certain they are leaving quite yet, either."

"What brings them to Hogwarts?" Lupin asked. McGonagall noticed that both of them were in dress robes, like herself. How fitting for them to be at the ball to chaperone.

"I am assuming they were informing Severus of Death Eater business," she said as they rounded a corner. "I just happened to walk in on them by the Great Hall. Mr. Nott was here for another reason however; he had come for his son."

"Theodore?" Arthur asked with concern in his voice. "The young man who had taken the Mark?"

"Yes, the very same," she replied. "I informed Theodore of his rights not to leave the castle, and he intends not to do so. Mr. Nott, however, did not take kindly to my reminding him of such."

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "Young Theodore fears his father. It is not very likely he will turn his back on us now."

"I believe he will not," McGonagall agreed steadily. "Remus, if Mr. Nott and Mr. Malfoy have not left the castle in one hour when the ball begins, please have at least one more Auror present. We do not need a catastrophe on our hands, gentlemen."

"Very true," Arthur nodded and cast a side glance to his companion. "Tonks will do?"

"Tonks is with her mother and aunt for the time being, and need I say, the situation is very dire," Lupin reminded the two Order members.

McGonagall nodded. "How is Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Surprisingly cooperative," replied Lupin with a hint of pleasure in his voice. "She is unlike most women I have ever known. The Black in here is undeniable, to say the very least."

"It is good to know we have her on our side," Arthur agreed. "Kingsley could come, Minerva. I am most certain he can leave the Minister's side for one night, especially Christmas Eve."

"I agree," Lupin's reply came soon after.

McGonagall withdrew her wand and quickly cast a patronus, bidding Kingsley to the castle. The blue and wispy tabby cat bounded from her kitten, tilted its head to its caster, and then bounded out the nearest window to the trio. With a sigh, the three watched the patronus run from the grounds and through the night sky as quickly as it could to its recipient.

"I do hope that tonight goes well," McGonagall said to herself, not fully remembering the two men flanking her sides.

"We will make sure it does," Lupin assured her and gave her shoulder a firm squeeze.

Hermione's hazel eyes could barely open as she felt Draco's lips litter kisses down her neck. For the first time in her life, she was giving in to what could only be the most dangerous and sinister thing she'd ever done. And that was saying something, considering she had been attacked by a troll, brewed Ployjuice potion when she was twelve in the women's lavatory, went back in time and saved Sirius and Buckbeak from certain death, coached Harry through all of the wizarding trials and went to the Yule Ball with the one and only Viktor Krum, defeated Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries, had to deal with the slutty Lavender Brown, deal with the death of her beloved Headmaster (courtesy of the man doing damning things to her skin right now), and Oblivate her parents. This, above all, was the most perilous thing she had ever done. And she didn't care.

For the brightest witch of her age, she tended to think things through with excessive detail, weighing out every possible outcome. This, however, was the exception. She had never thought once about sleeping with Draco Malfoy. Their kisses were phenomenal, and she had grown to care for him. All these things she thought she could never do because of the rift he had created between them. But now, things were different; they were different. The times they were living in were different. At any moment, Hermione could be called to McGonagall's office and be told that Voldemort had overthrown the Ministry and his next move would be on the castle. That meant Draco and herself would be separated for a long time, if not forever. They were at war, and war makes people do crazy things. Like, sleeping with your arch enemy.

But, he didn't feel like her enemy. Not now, when his hands were being drug all around her body, gripping at her hips or breasts, and his lips pecking against her delicate skin. Hermione had only ever been with one man before Draco, and that was Ron. Ron never took his time the way Draco had. He hadn't kissed her with such passion and understanding as Draco had. All this time, Hermione had thought it was inevitable that she would one day marry Ronald Weasley, but now… now she wasn't so sure. Her feelings had taken a sharp turn and landed her in bed with the Slytherin Prince, and she had to fight off what she thought Harry and Ron would do if they walked into her room right now.

Draco, on the other hand, was so close to heaven he could feel it. By heaven, he meant normality. In his heart, he felt like he should be doing this. As a Pureblood, he was raised to only sleep with the woman he knew he would one day marry and bring into his family. Obviously, not all Pureblood men, including himself, followed that custom. The notches in his bedpost were high, and although it didn't matter now, he felt like he should begin giving a shit about who he slept with, because it could be the last time.

His feelings for Hermione had grown steadily, from the moment he was put in her house in Muggle London with her. He felt sure that she was "the one", but continuously blamed it on the fact that she had been the only woman he had been around for months. But, when Pansy had tried to kill her, it really hit him hard. He knew that he couldn't lose Hermione, and if it was one of his family or friends that killed her, he wouldn't be able to live with that.

Draco's nose nuzzled into the side of her neck with ease, and he breathed, causing her the slightest of trembles. "Hermione, may I ask you something?"

"Anything," came her soft reply instantly. Her hands were running through his blonde hair, her fingers only gently caressing his scalp. Merlin, it was amazing...

"How do you feel about me?" he asked, knowing she would retaliate.

And retaliate, she did. She pulled back and pulled Draco from her neck to above her so she could look him in the eye. Her hazel eyes stared into his, searching for the reasoning behind his question. But, the only thing she could conclude was that he honestly, really wanted to know. It was incredibly gentleman-like of him, and she couldn't help but smile as she brushed his blonde bangs out of his eyes.

"I've grown quite fond of you," she said and titled her head slightly to get a better look at his expression. His eyes visibly softened as he waited for her to continue. "You've become a very important part in my life. Why do you ask?"

Draco cleared his throat and focused on anywhere in the room but her and the bulge in his pants. "In Pureblood tradition, a man is not supposed to sleep with a woman unless she reciprocates his feelings towards her."

Hermione's eyes widened. "So, you've grown fond of me as well? I am an important part in your life?"

"You're the only thing in my life right now, in case you've forgotten," Draco murmured sheepishly. He turned his attention back to her. "But, yes, on all counts."

Hermione smiled at him and planted a kiss on his lips happily with her heart doing somersaults in her chest. "I never thought I would actually mean something to you."

"Honestly, neither did I," Draco said truthfully with a sympathetic kiss to her lips. "But, I do, and obviously you do too…"

Hermione didn't know what came over her, but she was tired of hearing about their feelings. She just wanted to express them. She rolled over top of Draco onto his chest, and began kissing him feverishly, like it was the last opportunity for her to ever do so. Draco's eyes instinctively closed, but snapped right back open when she leaned up to sit on his lap. It didn't help his bulge any that there was an attractive witch taking off her shirt right in front of him. Quickly, he leaned up and helped her loose Potter's Quiddtich shirt to the pile of dirty laundry on the floor. His shirt was next, joining hers. Hermione took a moment and admired Draco's body – as she found she always did when he was shirtless. He was indeed built like a seeker; not too built but not thin either. He had just the right amount of muscle in all the right places, and it made Hermione swoon.

After a million more kisses and what felt like a million more minutes, Draco moved to unclasp her bra. More than anything, he just wanted to feel her skin on his. With a bit of help from Hermione, as he was rusty at removing lingerie, she sat bare and topless on his lap. Her breasts were supple, just like her. They were perfect, and Draco couldn't stop staring at her. If this was what she looked like under all those clothes, why had he never come after her before? Why didn't any man? He dove at her, tackling her back so they were by the foot of her bed, Hermione's hair hanging down over the edge. It had long since come out of her messy bun, and lay in curls about the sheets. Draco kissed down her chest and stomach until he got to the jeans that fit perfectly on her curves. With one swift stroke, he unbuttoned, unzipped, and pulled them down, tossing them to their pile of clothes. Hermione's heart beat increasingly faster as she felt the bed shift and Draco take off the rest of his garments, leaving them bare to the touch. Her panties were off before she could do it herself, and she found herself propped up on her elbows, looking into the grey eyes of a very intense Slytherin.

"Shall we?" he asked, waiting patiently, although he swore that if she didn't go through with this then he would abandon all of his hopes and dreams and live in insanity for the rest of his life.

Hermione, always taking precautions, reached for her wand on the floor which had since fallen out of her pocket, and cast a quick contraceptive charm, then looked at the man in front of her as seductively as possible. And seductive, it was. Draco crawled over top of her, and began kissing her lips as gently as he could, not knowing if she was still relatively unexperienced. She wasn't, and she knew what to expect, although she hadn't laid eyes on Draco's member just yet. He moved so he towered over her, and Hermione got the sudden feeling like she was being swallowed before Draco cautiously moved himself inside of her.

She shifted softly against the blankets, trying to find the right angle. Draco never once took his eyes off of her face, studying it for any pain or uncomfort. But, it never came. Soon, the two were happily in place, and Draco began to move back and forth, in and out, ever so softly. Hermione was in pure bliss – it had been so long since she had experienced these sensations. Her fingers gripped his left arm, unknowingly gripping the edge of the snake on his Mark. Draco only winced when her fingernails dug into his skin, but continued to move against her responsive body.

It wasn't until a few minutes had passed when they found their motion that Hermione whispered for him to go faster. Draco couldn't help but smile; he always thought she would be risky in the sheets. He obliged, kissing her neck and moving his hips to the correct speed to hear her moans intensify. Hermione's legs came up around his waist, pulling him in deeper, to which he could only close his eyes and fall against the crook of her neck as he continued to pleasure her.

"Harder," she whispered against his ear.

Draco pulled himself up, balancing on his knuckles, and shoved himself deep inside of her. Her moans became screams, her fingers knotting in the back of his hair, and her teeth suddenly on his shoulder. Draco's eyes rolled back in his head as he concentrated on not orgasming right then and there because Merlin knew he would have if he didn't have self-control. Hermione's eyes were tightly closed, focusing only on the feeling of the man inside of her. She couldn't help but scream, hoping it wasn't too loud, but then again… she didn't care.

All Draco could focus on was making Hermione orgasm around him. He thrusted faster and harder until his movements became rocky and uneven, until Hermione's screaming became a higher pitch and her body trembled beneath him. He allowed himself to go then, falling onto her chest in exhaustion. Hermione was seeing stars still, and Draco's eyes only say the pitch black backs of his eyelids. Soon, he felt fingers through his hair, and his eyes opened only slightly to see their pile of clothes on the floor and her dresser in the background.

"Thank you," she whispered softly and kissed the top of his head.

"I should be thanking you," Draco chuckled, enjoying hearing her heart race beneath of his ear.

"I wish things were different," Hermione said, her head laying back against the sheets now.

"So do I," Draco agreed, eyeing the dress bag hanging off of her door. "You should start getting ready for the ball."

The thought of the ball had never crossed Hermione's mind from the moment she set foot back into her dorm. Draco was right, however, that the ball would be starting soon, and her absence would yield some major explaining. She nodded against his head, and Draco moved so she could stand up. He laid back against her pillows, admiring her naked body as she rooted through her dresser for undergarments. They didn't speak a word to one another as Hermione got ready. If it was up to her, she would've ditched the ball and stayed in bed with Draco all evening. Alas, it wasn't possible, and both of them knew it. But, he would be waiting right in her bed for her when she returned.

Hermione took her dress out of the bag, and slipped it on over her head, feeling incredibly self-conscious. It was midnight blue and shone with subtle sparkles, the only fabric for straps hanging down around her shoulders. She turned to the mirror and cast a few glamor charms to make herself look presentable, and quickly curled her hair and put it to the left side. She turned to face Draco, would whistled lowly.

"You look beautiful, Hermione."

"Says the naked man I just slept with in my bed," she said with a raised eyebrow.

Draco quickly turned to the side of the bed and approached her in all of his nudity, taking her shoulders in his hands. He looked her dead in her eyes, meaning every word he was going to say to her, and praying to Merlin that she believed it too.

"Hermione, you look stunning. Every man at that ball will be jealous of Smith. Hell, I'm even jealous of that stupid fruitcake…" Draco said. His mission was a success: she had smiled.

"Yes, but I already knew you were jealous of Zac," she giggled.

"Now you know that everyone else will be too," he said and kissed her forehead, pulling her into a hug. The fabric of the dress felt odd against his skin since what he had been feeling for the past few minutes had been bare skin against his.

"Thank you," she wrapped her arms around his back, offering him a smile before backing away. "I really should be going."

"Yeah," Draco said and pulled on his boxers and pants quickly. Afraid she had upset him, Hermione watched intently and sorrowfully as he did so.

"I'm sorry I have to go, Draco."

"Don't be," Draco said and smiled at her. A genuine smile. One she had only seen a few times before. "You have too, and if you didn't, I would probably have McGonagall beating down this door demanding if I had killed you or something… And we definitely don't want her seeing me naked. I don't want her seeing me naked."

Hermione stiffened a laugh as she heard a knock on the dorm door. "Coming!" she yelled before turning back to Draco. "Thank you… again."

Draco didn't reply but hung behind in her room out of sight while she walked up to the door. He heard Smith's irritating voice and could only try to push down the rage building up in his chest. The act of love making signified a bond between the two parties, and if Hermione had been Pureblood, it would be his way of making her his own. However, he was forced to watch as the witch he had just made love too, got dolled up and taken away from him by another man.

If their situation had been different and somewhat normal (meaning they weren't at war and that Hermione would be Pureblood), Draco wished he could take her home as he was supposed to, and introduce her to his parents. He was certain his mother would adore Hermione – she reminded him in so many ways of her. His father would be a different story. Draco found himself lost in his thoughts as he slumped on the couch in the middle of their common room. He lit a fire in the fireplace and adjusted some of the garland that Hermione had hung up for Christmas decorations. Then, he grabbed the letter from Potter she had received and began studying it again. He would much rather be lost in his thoughts about Potter and Weasley than his mind wandering to what horrible things Smith would try to pull on Hermione tonight.