Despite her deep hatred for Malfoy, she had to admit that she enjoyed the routine they worked themselves into. All it took was a look across the hall or a nudge as they passed in the hallway and Hermione knew that meant they were to meet that night. They always met in the same corridor – like some sick reminder of the first time Hermione lost her control – and it would always be after dark. Once they met there, they would walk to the Room of Requirement which was always well equipped with a bed. They rarely spoke when they met up and Hermione preferred it this way – the less she knew about his feelings for her the better. They continued that way for the next few weeks and nobody seemed to notice a thing. It was a strange type of therapy; her nights with Malfoy always seemed to come on the days she was feeling the worst – the pleasure he made her feel cancelled out the pain she felt at seeing Ron and Lavender together.

It was one night after they had slept together that they held a proper conversation and it was purely because Hermione started crying. They had gotten into the habit of lying together for awhile before leaving and this particular night they had been there for so long Hermione was sure Malfoy had fallen asleep; his breathing was deep and when she glanced over at him next to her, his eyes were closed. It was as if it hit her all of a sudden; the reality of what she was doing. The tears formed in her eyes before she had a chance to stop them and they fell silently. She turned on her side, bringing the blankets up slowly – she didn't want to disturb Malfoy.

She had been over everything in her mind over and over. Every time this happened she would spend the next few days telling herself that it would never happen again, that she hated Malfoy and wouldn't let him do this to her. Hermione even thought about telling someone in an attempt to stop it but knew she couldn't. Despite the fact that she could hold it over Malfoy that he was the one who wanted her and had feelings for her, she knew deep down that he gave her something, a kind of release that she couldn't help but want. Before she knew it, sobs were wracking her body and she shoved her fist in her mouth, desperate not to make any noise.

"Are you crying?" Hermione almost laughed at the blunt way he asked the question but she didn't answer him, just wiped her eyes and let the sobs subside. She had no idea what the time was but knew they had been lying there for a long time and she turned over to face him in the darkness. She just saw his pale face in the dark and saw he was watching her closely.

"Do you care?" She asked in return and heard the hatred in her voice.

"If I said I did, you wouldn't believe me." He replied and she let out a small laugh. "I'm right though, aren't I?"

"Yes, Malfoy. You don't care about me at all. You take what you want and that's that."

"That's where you're wrong, Granger, which must be a first surely. I do care, whether you want to believe it or not and I can tell you why you were crying." She opened her mouth to retort but his hand was swift and she didn't protest as it covered her mouth. "I know you better than you think, Granger. You were crying because you hate this situation you're in."

The fact that he was right stunned her slightly but she recovered quickly. "So what? It's not hard to guess – you know how much I hate you, how much I hate this."

"Then go." He said and she searched his face to see if he was serious. "This can be it, then. The last night."

"You're lying. You'll be after me in a week."

"No, Hermione. If you want to go and never see me again, then leave." The use of her first name and not her surname told her he was serious but she didn't move.

"Why?"

"Why what?" He asked angrily, turning on to his back and staring up at the ceiling.

"You chase me for weeks, tell me you've got me where you want me and now you're saying that's it?" Anger welled inside of her but she didn't know why; he was providing her with a way out but she didn't want to take it.

"Yes, Hermione." Malfoy said firmly, not looking at her. She liked the way her name sounded coming from his lips but she forced that thought aside.

"You make no sense."

"I make perfect sense, okay? You just choose to ignore that. You don't see half of what's in front of you – for someone who is supposed to be the smartest witch in our year you are pretty slow on the uptake." Hermione lay there, unsure of how to reply when he kept talking. "And you know what else? You enjoy this too, okay. I'm a horrible person, I know. I've treated you and your stupid friends like shit since we started here but I don't hear you complaining. You moan along with me so if you want to go, then do it. But I know you must get something out of this or you would have left when I initially said go."

He was right and she knew it. It killed her that he seemed to know her so well and she wondered briefly when that happened. Hermione had always been dirt to him but somewhere along the line it changed, apparently while Hermione wasn't looking. Now, as they lay side by side, she realised he must feel something deep for her, the emotion he was showing seemed too real for this to be a game. It scared her slightly that he might feel something for her that she didn't feel back but with a jolt she realised she did. While they lay there in silence, she went over every single one of their interactions together and every time she wanted it. With a small gasp she realised she looked forward to their time together and when they were together, there was a part of her that didn't want to leave.

Though she wasn't sure what she felt for the blonde haired boy on the bed next to her, she knew she felt something and with a trembling hand, she moved it over until it met his and she saw him look down as she held it in his. He held it back and squeezed it softly, Hermione sighing to herself. What was she getting herself into?

They fell asleep like that; Hermione's hand in his, and when she woke, he had moved closer to her, his head nestled in to her neck. She shivered at his breath on her skin and looked down to see him waking up too.

"What do you think the time is?" She asked quietly, her voice nothing but a whisper.

"Who cares." He said shortly and she watched his hand move down to her stomach and trace light shapes there. She shivered again and pushed his hand off, sitting up and reaching for her clothes which lay on the floor. "Where are you going?"

"Malfoy, I have no idea what the time is but I do not want to walk back to Gryffindor tower when the sun is rising and people are getting up." Hermione said and Malfoy lay on the bed watching her dress. A blush crept across her cheeks and she dressed quickly, desperate to have a barrier between them. He sighed and stood up, getting dressed quickly and they both made their way to the door. Hermione stopped before she opened it and turned to Malfoy. "What is it you like about me?"

"Are you kidding me? You want to have a deep and meaningful now?" He said though he didn't sound as harsh as he usually did. "You just told me you wanted to get back to bed."

"Stop avoiding, just answer the question." She prompted and he took a step closer towards her. "Do you have some sort of fetish of pushing me up against doors?" She said, enjoying the way her voice sounded when she teased him and he smirked at her.

"No, but I know you enjoy it." He said and lowered his lips on to hers. She kissed him back but only for a moment before pulling away and giving him a stare. "Granger, come on. Let's just go."

Hermione looked up at him and sighed; the use of her surname coupled with his avoidance of the question confused her. He either didn't want to admit how deeply he felt for her or he felt next to nothing. She pulled the door open and stalked out, casting the Disillusionment charm on both her and Malfoy before setting off down the corridor, leaving Malfoy to trail behind. She walked quickly and quietly, desperate to get into her own bed before anyone spotted her. As she rounded the corner and saw with relief the Gryffindor portrait hole up ahead, she let out a small squeal as something held her back.

"Shut up!" A voice hissed and she realised it was Malfoy, though she could not see him and surely he could not see her. She looked around the corridor but could not see where he was at all and it wasn't until she felt his breath on her neck that she knew he was behind her and closed her eyes.

"What are you doing?" She whispered, shivering slightly. His hands snaked around her waist and he held her tight; it was not sexual and she was surprised at this – whenever he touched her it was always leading up to something else but this time it felt different. She leaned back into him and heard herself sigh.

"You wanted to know what I felt for you." He whispered and she stood up a bit straighter, nervous for what he was about to say. She felt him move away and she turned, not knowing where he was. "I am very quickly falling in love with you." The words fell over her and she absorbed them, her heart beating wildly. She heard footsteps and realised he was walking away, feeling a slight disappointment. It wasn't until she had crept through the portrait hole and was lying in bed that the full blast of what Malfoy had said hit her.

Shorter chapter, I know, sorry. But like I said previously, not sure what I'm doing with this story, just going along with whatever comes to mind. Hope you enjoyed it, thank you for the reviews, it means a lot!