Disclaimer: I do not own Hermione Granger or Draco Malfoy. They belong to JK Rowling.

Author's Note: Sorry for the wait, guys! And the shorter chapter. I have a lot going on in my life right now, but I still want to keep on top of this story because I really enjoy writing it. I promise to keep the next update within two weeks!

Chapter 5

Hermione sat in a corner café the following morning, sipping a large coffee and picking at a half-eaten pastry. Her notes for her Common Emergencies class lay in front of her, unnoticed. She was staring at the cars on the street, at the people passing by, but she wasn't really seeing them. She was daydreaming. About him. About that kiss.

Merlin, that kiss had been good. Really good. Draco Malfoy kissed with the finesse of an Italian lover. His tongue had caressed hers softly, over and over again. It wasn't too sloppy or too tight-lipped. He had, quite simply, been perfect. He had effectively ruined her for any other man. She had imagined his tongue doing those things to other, more intimate places on her body, and had turned positively red just thinking about it.

She waved her hand absentmindedly in front of her face, trying to cool herself. Had it suddenly gotten overly warm in the café? Ugh, she didn't want to think about him anymore. She needed to think about Common Emergencies. She had class in forty-five minutes.

A rustle of clothing caught her attention, and she suddenly realized that she had a companion. She wasn't sure if he was welcome or not.

"Good morning, Granger," said Malfoy smoothly. In his hand, he held a cup of steaming hot coffee.

Hermione blushed and avoided his gaze. "Morning, Malfoy."

"I wanted to talk to you about last night," continued Draco nonchalantly, placing his bookbag on the floor. He seemed to be getting comfortable.

Shit, thought Hermione, blushing slightly. She had no idea what had possessed her to kiss him last night. She had no idea what to do about it this morning. She really thought that she could have avoided him this morning by retreating to a muggle café. Apparently not.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione casually.

"Well, I wanted to go over more of History before the test." He stopped, waiting for her response.

That was it? thought Hermione. That was all he had to say about last night? Not, why did you kiss me? Not, goodness, that kiss was good? Wait. What if he didn't think she had been that good. Oh, Merlin. What if?

"I think we should study together again." Somewhere that statement registered in the back of Hermione's mind. They were going to study again. Goodness, it better be in a public place, preferably with lots of people around.

"Why don't we meet at my place again?" he suggested.

No, no, no, Hermione thought. Not a good idea. "That sounds like a good idea." Where did those words come from?

Malfoy nodded, a triumphant grin on his face. "The password is the same."

"You change it?" Despite herself, Hermione lifted her eyebrows and stared at him, incredulously.

"Of course," he said. "Important strategy. Always change the password. Never make it the same after an enemy has entered the territory."

Hermione's lips tilted upwards on one side. "Am I your enemy, Draco?"

"I think you know the answer to that, Hermione," he said, pointedly saying her first name. They rarely acknowledged each other this way.

Hermione enjoyed a challenge; Draco knew it. It would be one interesting evening.

Hermione arrived promptly at six o'clock. Malfoy had told her to arrive prior to dinner. He was going to order take-out. Mentally cursing herself, she performed the correct incantations and the bell rang. A moment later, he appeared and let her inside.

The sun was still shining on the horizon. Hermione gazed out of the large windows and saw the last flickers of sun sink into the earth. Night time wasn't always kind, she remembered. She tended to let her inhibitions down once the sun set.

She shook herself, and turned back to Malfoy.

He had walked into the kitchen. After dropping her things down on the sofa and absently petting the cat, she followed him into the kitchen. Once again, he poured two glasses of wine and handed her one of them.

"I… I…. I don't know if I should," Hermione said, placing the glass on the counter. She had an urge to slam the entire contents down her throat.

Malfoy shrugged and walked into the dining area. Not looking at her, he said, "It might help you relax a bit."

How had he known that she was wound up so tight? She rolled her eyes and picked up the glass. Gulping down a larger-than-normal portion, she said, "Who says I need to relax?"

Malfoy laughed. "Nobody."

He began to pull out the notes for History of Healing. "Do you just want to start where we left off?"

Hermione nodded and sat down. "That sounds good." She pulled out her own notes and lay them on the table. She criss-crossed her legs and sat on the floor. Malfoy joined her there, sitting directly across from her. The cat climbed into her lap and stayed there, content while she stroked his back.

For several hours, they studied amicably together. Malfoy ordered pizza, and they took a break to gorge themselves. They stayed in the living room, their plates on the coffee table. Smachimo sniffed the air and rubbed against Malfoy's knee, begging him for a bite. Hermione watched as Malfoy cut up bits of cheese and placed them in his hand. The cat licked them up greedily. Hermione smiled to herself; Malfoy spoiled the animal abominably.

Midway through the meal, Malfoy started telling her dirty jokes, trying to make her blush. He succeeded.

"What do you know about witch's tits?" teased Hermione, after a particularly bawdy joke. She couldn't quite look him in the eye. She took a sip of her wine. She had taken Malfoy's advice and had poured another glass.

"I've seen a few pairs," he said, smirking, waiting for her reaction.

Her head shot up; her eyes rose to meet his. They were wide with shock. "How many?" she blurted out. She clapped her hand over her mouth and looked away. "You don't have to answer that."

Malfoy laughed. "You were pretty keen on showing me yours the other day."

Hermione's hand flew to her chest, as if to cover that part of her anatomy. "What?!" she cried. She set the wine down before she spilled it.

"In that orange sweater that you had on. With that scarf that I had bought you. And that necklace, placed strategically so that it rested right between your breasts." He leaned back, his eyebrows raised, an appraising look on his face. He had called her out.

They stared at each other for a moment. Hermione's heart was beating rapidly. Was he hitting on her? Was she enjoying it? Is that why she felt so damn uncomfortable? Hermione broke the gaze first, completely distracted. Her movements felt awkward as she gathered up her plate and wine glass. Unconsciously, she began to bite her bottom lip.

"We should probably get back to studying," she stated, avoiding his gaze. She cleared the table and brought the dishes into the kitchen. Setting them in the sink, she turned around to find Malfoy directly behind her. He set his own glass down on the counter and placed his hands on either side of her on the counter. He leaned over her, and she leaned back, avoiding his advance. She suddenly realized that he wasn't looking at her face. He was looking… at her breasts!

"Malfoy!" she screeched, shoving him away from her. Her reaction to his outrageous behavior seemed to break the uncomfortable silence. He fended her playful blows with ease and laughed at her.

"Oh, shut up!" she said, but without malice. She walked out of the kitchen, the tension between them gone.

They studied for another hour before Hermione decided it was time to leave. She did so reluctantly. She didn't want to spend more time than necessary with Malfoy, did she? That thought propelled her to quicken her pace. She shoved the last of her notes in her bag, and headed for the door. She could feel Draco directly behind her.

Her hand was on the door knob when Draco spoke. "I think you forgot something."

She whirled around, confused, glancing at the coffee table where they had just spent the last three hours. "What?"

"I think you forgot this." Draco reached out his hand and cupped her cheek with his palm. He leaned down and softly pressed his lips against hers. She stilled for a moment, and then slowly gave herself to the kiss, closing her eyes.

A loud thump sounded as her bag dropped from her shoulder to the floor. Her hands found their way to his hair, and she twirled her fingers in the silky strands. She opened her mouth and felt his tongue stroke hers, exploring her mouth. He angled his head slightly for better access and became more persistent.

Hermione pulled him closer and pressed against him. He pushed her gently into the wall. Hermione felt his hand slide down her neck, across her collarbone, over her shoulder and down her back. She moaned softly at the feel of his hand caressing her bare skin. She tilted her chin upwards and let his mouth trail kisses along her jaw, down her throat.

"Go with me on Saturday to a Quidditch game," he murmured, his breath tickling her skin.

Hermione's eyes fluttered. "Wha…?" His ministrations were distracting her thoroughly.

He pulled back slightly. "Quidditch. Big game. You, me, top box."

Hermione started to come to her senses. She was leaning against the wall, and Malfoy was so close that she could feel every inch of his body against hers. Every inch. "Qu… qu…quidditch?"

He slid his hand down her arm and grasped hers with his own. He brought her hand to his mouth. Turning it over, he kissed her palm, his tongue creating circular patterns on her upturned hand. "Yes, quidditch. I'll pick up at one o'clock in front of your dorm. Wear something warm."

He released her. She reached down to scoop up her bag and turned to open the door.

"Okay," she said quietly. "I'll be there." She flung herself out of the flat without glancing back. She missed Draco's smile of satisfaction.