Hermione lay in the bed beside Draco. The past several days had been a blur of sex, but her heat had finally broken. She felt completely wrung out but surprisingly less exhausted than she had been after her first heat had ended. She wasn't sure if it was because she had already endured one this time around, or if it was because she'd had an Alpha to help her through it: she figured it was probably more the latter than the former.

Thinking about said Alpha, she turned her head to look at him. Draco was fast asleep, his torso and the leg closest to her covered by the cream-colored sheets while his other leg lay out from under the covers and his arms were thrown up above his head. His chest rose and fell rhythmically with his even breaths as he slept. She noticed the dark smudges beneath his closed eyes and felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that he was clearly so shattered.

She had been utterly insatiable for most of her heat and while she hoped that he had dozed when she had, she knew he had to be exhausted. Not a single time during her heat had she been left unsatisfied. Every time the desire had swelled up inside of her, threatening to drown her, he had been right there. In as much as the Omega in her had wanted him hard and fast – wanted him to claim her – he had managed to be gentle with her while still giving her everything she had needed.

As she shifted in the bed now, she could feel a delicious tenderness between her thighs. She blushed at the memories that flooded through her brain. She had been embarrassingly wanton and needy, but Draco had never once made her feel inferior or self-conscious. He had urged her with his words – and his fingers, and his tongue – to let go…to simply feel. And feel she had.

He had awakened all kinds of emotions inside of her that she hadn't even known existed, and now she found herself lost in her thoughts.

He was nothing like she had thought he would be – nothing like the spoiled, vindictive brat he had been when they had been younger. She had seen the shadows that now darkened his once bright eyes, and while the stress lines between his brows may have lightened considerably in the months since the war had ended, they were still visible to her now as he slept peacefully.

Whereas he had once been rash and impulsive, he now seemed to weigh each and every word and action carefully before moving forward. Hermione found that she rather liked this newer, more thoughtful Draco. He was much less quick to anger, although he was less prone to laughter too, which saddened her.

He had also surprised her with how adept and thoughtful a lover he was. While she had heard the rumors about his prowess in the bedroom – really, nothing stayed secret in Hogwarts for very long, and the witches sighing after him with longing gazes during their fifth year had been just as telling as the stories she'd heard about his escapades with several of the Slytherin witches – reality had been much more than she'd expected.

He'd been patient with her, soothing her nerves while simultaneously setting her body aflame. And she was certain, not once in all of the times they'd had sex, had he let himself find release before bringing her to orgasm first. It had been a monumental effort on his part several times, when her body had felt too wrung out to hit that peak time and again, but he had coaxed her orgasms out of her with a tenderness and single-mindedness that had literally left her knees weak.

But, now that the haze of lust had lifted, she found her logical mind taking the reins once again. How had this happened? How had she let the one person in the world who had hated her most do those things to her body…over and over again?

Then she thought back to his words earlier in the week.

…I would still choose you…

…I've admired you for years…

…I'll take good care of you, Granger…

She remembered the way he had laughed with her, not at her, as he had tickled her. He'd held true to his words and had used the knowledge of her sensitive sides to his advantage. She could still remember the way his playful grin had momentarily erased the stress lines from his forehead and around his mouth, turning him into the playful and somewhat childish eighteen-year-old he should have been – as opposed to the war-ravaged man he was now.

Hermione decided in that moment to take a risk. She had already trusted him with her body…maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it to try to trust him with her heart, too?

She wasn't in love with him, wasn't even close, but she was going to at least give himself a chance to earn her forgiveness for the things he'd done to her in the past…if he wanted it, that was.

She felt the object of her musings stirring beside her and looked up at him. He was blinking blearily up at the ceiling, and she observed as he fought to wrap his mind around where he was. It only took a second or two before he was turning toward her, pulling her into his arms. At the feel of her finally cool skin against his body, he sighed.

"It's over," she said unnecessarily.

He simply nodded, but did not release her, which puzzled Hermione.

"Draco?"

"I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, Granger. I just…I'm not ready to let you go yet."

She felt a fluttering in her tummy at his words and, instead of pulling away from him, she nuzzled her head against his neck. Her nose instinctively sought out the hollow where his neck met his shoulder, and she breathed in deeply; he smelled of tart apples, sweet vanilla, and warm, earthy cedar, and she found her mouth watering for a taste of him.

Even as her mouth opened of its own accord, he pulled away from her. He was panting and his eyes were cloudy as he looked down at her, but his voice was firm.

"No, Granger."

She pulled back at the sharp tone of his voice, the mindless need to taste evaporating as quickly as fog under a morning sun as her cheeks flamed red with embarrassment. Before she could completely pull away from him, though, he tightened his arms around her and buried his own face in her neck.

"I swear to Salazar, I want your mouth on me there more than I can say," he said, his lips brushing against her own neck as he spoke and making shivers run up and down her spine. "But…do you remember what I told you about your mating gland?" he asked, tongue peeking out to lave the sensitive gland in question.

She nodded.

"I have one, too. Same place. You bite me there, Granger, and it's done. I won't be able to stop myself from claiming you back. And I told you I wouldn't do it until you're ready."

"What if I am ready?" she asked, the words popping out of her mouth without thought, and she wanted to kick herself at the stupidity: it sounded like a challenge, and she didn't know him well enough to trust that he wouldn't meet that challenge.

"You're not," he said simply.

His statement should have sounded haughty…conceited in the assurance that he knew her mind better than she did in this matter. But it didn't, because he was right. She wasn't ready for that – not at all.

"When you are, you'll know. And when that time comes, I'll be right there beside you. Until then, let's just take this one day at a time, yeah?"

She nodded, moaning when the movement caused his mouth to press even more firmly into her gland.

He pressed one last, openmouthed kiss against her neck before pulling away. He sat up on the bed, legs crossed in front of him, and helped her to a seated position as well.

"I believe," he said, and she saw a flash of nervousness in his mercurial eyes before he hid it away, "that I told you we would talk once your heat had passed."

She nodded, suddenly nervous. She wanted the answers…but she didn't want them. She was afraid of what knowledge would bring.

"Ask me anything you want to know, Granger," he said, purposely keeping himself open and honest when she could see just how much he wanted to lock it all away.

And she did. She was certain that they sat there talking for hours. She asked him every question she could think of…and he answered them – every single one.

At the end of it all, they were both exhausted, but Hermione felt lighter than she had in years. He hadn't hidden anything from her, had shared it all with her.

He had told her what he'd really thought about her when they first met, before he had known she was a Muggleborn – You seemed as wild and untamable as that mane of yours – and about his disappointment when he had learned of her parentage. He had told her how disappointed he had been when she'd pulled the Sorting Hat from her head and happily flounced off to the Gryffindor table, knowing with one hundred percent certainty that he would be in Slytherin.

She had confronted him about the events of their second year, and he had gently kissed the scar his aunt had left on her arm while he'd apologized for being the one to introduce her to the word in the first place. He had been shocked when she'd asked him about how he had wished her dead that year – which had in turn led to some explaining on Hermione's part regarding Polyjuice Potion and Harry and Ron sneaking into the Slytherin Common Room. He'd griped about Harry's uncanny ability to be everywhere he wasn't supposed to be, which had made Hermione giggle, but had become serious as he'd stared into her eyes.

"I said that to Crabbe and Goyle, who had always used our friendship to report back to their fathers about me. Their fathers would have told mine in a heartbeat if I was seeming to be sympathetic to the Muggleborns in the school. I don't say that to try to excuse what I said – it isn't excusable in the slightest. I just want you to understand why I said it.

What Potter and Weasley couldn't have told you, however, was just how fucking guilty I felt when it almost did happen. I…well," he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, seemingly unwilling to continue.

"What, Draco?"

"I came to visit you in the hospital after it happened. I hadn't been able to get the vision of you dead out of my mind. Of course, the vision of you petrified on that damned hospital bed was just as bad, but at least you were alive. I've never forgiven myself for wishing that upon you."

Hours later, Hermione's head was spinning with the revelations he'd made. He really had told her everything. He'd told her about the night that he'd been branded by Voldemort, about the night when he'd let the Death Eaters into the castle, and about the moment in the final battle when he'd finally picked a side.

Hermione knew that things were far from settled between the two of them – knew that it would take a long time for that to happen. She also knew, though, that they had taken a step in the right direction today. She was certain that Draco never would have shared with her the things he had, had he just been seeking to claim his Omega and move on.

No, she believed his earlier words. He really did want more from her than just what she was to him. And she was willing to give him that chance.

She looked out of the window to see the sun peeking up over the mountains in the distance, and cast a quick Tempus with her wand. It was seven o'clock in the morning on Sunday – they had been in Draco's room for five days, and they'd be going back to classes tomorrow.

"I think I'd like to take a shower," she said suddenly, unfolding herself from the bed and standing beside the bed to look at him. Draco was watching her carefully, like she was a unicorn that would bolt the second he reached out to touch her.

"After that, I was thinking maybe…would you like to have breakfast with me? And then maybe we can catch up on some work in the library together?"

He didn't smile, at least not in the toothy ways that Harry and Ron always did when she said something that made them happy. Draco smirked. It wasn't the hateful sneer that had been reserved for her and her friends for so long. No, this was a lifting of the left corner of his mouth in a look so sensual that it made her insides go mushy. This was the charming Draco she had heard so much about but had never seen herself, and she understood why the other girls had always swooned over the platinum-haired wizard. He was devastating.

And he was hers.

"I'd like that, Granger," he said simply, and she smiled back at him.

It would take a lot of work, and she knew that they were nowhere close to being there yet, but she could see them working through their problems together. And who knew? Maybe this epic fuck-up on the Ministry's part would end up being the best thing that ever happened to her?

Not that she had any intention of letting them get away with it. Oh, no. She knew that she was going to reign down hell upon each and every witch and wizard that had done this to them all – and she had a feeling that Draco would be right by her side as she did. For now, she would simply bide her time…and plan.

Okay, so I decided not to go into each and every transgression of Draco's. As we all know, there are a ton of them and the chapter would have been boring AF and about 30 pages long if I had. You all know what was done in the books, and I figured a lot of it - in a true conversation - would have simply been lumped together. I wanted to show that they've talked about it and decided to move forward without boring you all to tears...

Hopefully you all like this one, as it really is a bit of a filler, but this keeps our story moving for us!