Hello my Lovely Readers,

Let's say it together…FRIDAY! HARRY POTTER! YES! I deeply apologize for my silence, it has been a ruthless week here in The Big Apple, but I am back and at your service. Please do enjoy…

M x.

Hermione Granger was a logical person, and therefore she was able to focus her mind on the facts. And there were a whole bunch of facts that were currently racing along through her restless brain. Things that she wished with all her might she could forget. But as she sat in her chambers, in front a blazing fire, Crookshanks curled up in her lap, she realized that for the first time in her entire life, she could say she was clueless. Stunned. Completely and utterly lacking in any sort of understanding of what had become of "her life." How was it, that after so many years of chaos; now when things should be getting easier, they were suddenly looking just as bleak as when Voldemort had reigned. And it was with that thought that Hermione leapt to her feet and began to pace.

Crookshanks hissed at her sudden movements before streaking off under the bed. He glared at her with mutinous yellow eyes.

How could she fix things? How could she figure out what the hell was going on when her mind was contradicting itself every other second? Harry Draco Harry Draco Harry Draco. Over and over again like some sick masochistic chant. She was horrified by Draco's behavior at the Gala this evening and she was disgusted with herself as well. She had run right into a trap because she hadn't been thinking clearly, and that was most certainly Malfoy's and Harry's fault. She thought back to the end of the horrible evening.

Hermione had returned to the castle to retrieve her coat and shoes against her better judgment. She rationalized that it was because she had borrowed them from Pansy and it would be in ill taste to lose her things. In reality, Hermione was itching for the opportunity to throw Umbridge into the public eye a little bit more. Grangerous. She almost screamed as the word broke through her consciousness. Would he stop at nothing to drive her insane?

Hermione's appearance in the entrance hall was met with immediate pandemonium. She ignored their gasps and their outstretched hands and questions; held herself commandingly as Professor McGonagall and stalked over to a shocked looking house elf to collect her things.

"Thank you." She muttered. The elf nodded in complete awe. Hermione cleared her throat and turned towards the waiting onslaught.

"Who did this to you Ms. Granger? Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter left immediately after….was it a lover's spat?" Rita Skeeter's voice boomed through the hall. Hermione snapped her gaze to her in utter indignation. The woman was smirking evilly, her quick quill quivering with anticipation.

"A suspect has been apprehended." Hermione confirmed, shrugging into her coat. She didn't even bother with the heels. A camera flashed in her face. "The Aurors, are taking him in right now." She had started for the door.

"Miss Granger-" She stopped dead when she saw Malfoy stalking into the hall; he had appeared through the penetrating darkness from beyond. She turned back to the crowd of reporters and gossipers following after her.

"Dolores Umbridge, I now speak directly to you." Rita Skeeter was panting with glee. "Wherever you are, hiding out like the coward you are, I will find you. And I will put an end to your war against my blood. You will be punished. And I…." She turned back to Draco, he was staring at her with a very dark expression. She smiled. "Will continue to fight for what I believe in. I will continue to pollute the Purebloods." There was a shocked silence followed by cheering and clapping. Rita's quill was working itself into a state of fury.

Hermione nodded once, graciously, to the crowd before sweeping from the hall and out into the night. She had just reached the appiration point when Malfoy caught up with her, grabbing her arm in his firm grasp.

"That was stupid, Granger." He was angry. She rolled her eyes.

"So what? Who cares if it was stupid? Like everything else I've done lately has been so bloody smart." She whipped her arm out of his and he let her go.

"You almost got yourself killed tonight." She stamped her foot.

"And whose fault was that?" She replied icily. He looked away from her and breathed with frustration. She felt a sharp pain split through her heart, he was looking hurt and confused. "Besides, he told me I wasn't going to die…tonight." Draco closed his eyes for several moments, attempting to block her out.

"He told you that?" He whispered.

"Yes. He said I was going to suffer greatly for bringing my Mudblood shame down on his Mistress' house."

"Stop calling yourself that!" He snapped, his eyes flinging open in rage.

"Why not!? You called me that. For years!"

"It's different." She looked at him in disbelief.

"You really are un- bloody- believable." She turned and began to walk away. He caught her quickly and spun her around to face him.

"We're going home before you get yourself into anymore trouble."

"But-" They disappeared with a small pop. Hermione had immediately removed herself from his arms and looked around the desperately gloomy Drawing Room of Grimmauld Place. Home. Draco wasn't looking to her, instead he was watching the clock.

That man had definitely been a servant here, Draco knew this as fact. Hermione shaming his Mistress' house…that nameless photograph…it all fit. So how was it connected? His brain was working furiously. Thank Merlin because he needed to forget everything that had been said within the last two hours. He needed to forget her. And suddenly, Draco decided he couldn't be around her for another second without exploding. He stalked over to the cabinet, pulled out a glass and a bottle whiskey, muttered something about checking the potion and left the room with a sharp snap of the door.

Hermione was startled by his sudden departure but took full advantage of the fact that he had let her be. He must have known how shaken she was, deep down, even if she was too stubborn to show him her weakness. Yeah, she rolled her eyes, like she hadn't already done that.

Hermione had quickly headed upstairs through the silent house. Harry was at the Ministry, Pansy and Sirius had definitely retired for the night, Snape was God knows where, and Ron….Ron was gone. Hermione shuddered as tears fought to escape her. She pushed down the feelings of hopelessness and headed for the shower. After a good, long cry in the soaking steam, she healed her bruises and cuts then settled down to try and relax. Forget.

That brought her back to the present. Yes she was most definitely not relaxing. Not even a bit. It had been hours since Harry had popped into her fire and told her he wouldn't be back until at least dawn. The silence had been deafening and even Crookshanks' soft purrs and the crackling fire could not ease her shredded nerves. What to do? What to do? She suddenly stopped pacing; she noticed Crookshanks had planted himself in front of her door; he pawed at the wood there and meowed at her with disdain.

She stared at him in bewilderment and then suddenly, something took over her. She felt all her logical worries slip out of place as she breathed deeply, focusing on her heart, her body, how she felt…in that very moment. Raw. Falling apart. Alone. Lonely.

Crookshanks purred as he sauntered over to her, wrapping around her legs and pushing her towards the door. She looked down at her beloved pet with wonder.

"I hope you know what you're doing Crooks, because I sure as hell don't."

And with that, she slipped quietly from the room. She needed to see him.

Her soft footsteps took her up another flight of stairs and down a dark, ominous looking corridor. She had never been up here before; her hands became clammy and her heart raced rapidly in her suddenly constricted chest. As quietly as she could, she moved towards the door at the end of the hall, a dim light shone out from underneath it. Mustering all the Gryffindor bravery she possessed, she knocked softly on the door. No response. She knocked again. Nothing. Then she panicked. What if he was hurt. She opened the door and stepped quickly inside, her eyes scanning for immediate danger. Then she saw him and her heart nearly stopped.

He was sitting up in a chair by the dying fire, a stack of notes on his lap, her pen poised in his hand. The bottle of whiskey was half finished on the table next to him and he was wearing nothing but his tuxedo pants. He was sleeping. She had never seen him in such a state before. The lines on his face were softened. His gorgeously muscled chest falling with even, relaxed breaths. Hermione was sure she had never seen anything so beautiful. He was Adonis in the flesh, here to curse her with an unforgiving love, forever. She was terrified by the thoughts that were gripping her, but she recklessly pushed them away and started toward him. Hermione pulled her robe a bit tighter around her as she slowly leaned over him, her fingertips just grazing his hair, pushing it back from his face; she let herself trace his lips before feeling her way down his smooth skin, lightly. Her feathery touches lingering over his neck, his collarbone, his chest, his-

She gasped in shock as lean fingers closed around her wrist, holding her palm flat against his ridiculously toned stomach. Quidditch and Auror training…just like Harry. Hermione's eyes snapped to his, her face flushing with embarrassment. His eyes were still closed though his muscles clenched under her hand and a smirk had slithered up onto his perfect mouth. She pulled her hand back from his grip and stumbled slightly. He opened his eyes and took her in, his expression unreadable.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly. She nodded.

"I just…."He raised an eyebrow as she trailed off. "I can't sleep. " He stretched his limbs like a jungle cat and jumped gracefully to his feet. He poured her a glass of whiskey before returning to the couch. She accepted it willingly, she stared down at the liquor before taking a large gulp.

"I thought we could…talk." She muttered still not looking at him.

"Haven't we done enough of that this evening?" She frowned and sat down at the foot of his bed.

"Maybe you're right."

"Ha! Can I get that in writing?" She scowled at him. He shook his head in humor before his look became serious. "So I take it Potter's not back then?"

"No…he flooed around midnight. He'll be at The Ministry until morning." Draco's eyes took on a dangerous gleam.

"Does that mean we are alone?" Hermione peered at him sharply from over her drink.

"Not so alone that someone wouldn't hear me scream…" She threw him a wary glare. He got to his feet slowly, approaching her with excruciating need in his eyes.

"Pity. I'd hate for you to wake the whole house." His intentions were mocking her, deep within his eyes.

"Malfoy, don't come any closer." She warned inching her way across his bed.

"Or what?" He purred, darting around to the other side to trap her.

"Draco-" He pulled her against him as she tried to slip off the silky covers and out of his reach. He was too quick.

"Why did you come up here, Granger?" He looked at her with determination. "What was your purpose?"

"I…." It seemed that the impossible had happened. The inconceivable. Hermione Granger had run out of words. Draco stared down at her with impressive superiority that was quickly replaced by ravenous desire. He pushed her back against the bed, his arms restraining her as he laid her down on her back. She was gazing at him with wild eyes, her brain must be disconnecting, shutting down.

"You came here, He growled against her neck. "-Because as much as you can't stand to admit it," He plucked her robe open before she could protest; his hands sliding against her naked flesh sent a thrill of electricity down her spine. "You desire me. You want me." He pushed her robe off of her shoulders, and leaned back, his hands spreading her thighs as he gaze upon her in all her naked glory. He growled, his fathomless eyes taking in her beauty.

Draco forced himself to look up at her; her eyes were a dead give away. She was guilty. "Tell me." He breathed as he leaned down over her, kissing her neck and biting her collarbone. "This is what you want, isn't it?" He continued to assault her with his mouth as his fingers pinched her nipples and ran up and down the length of her thighs. "I'll give you anything you want."

Hermione was dying. Dead. Roasted. The things he was doing to her were making her mad. Utterly and completely insane.

"Yes. Draco, please. I- I need you." Her soft, innocent words, were his breaking point. He slammed his mouth desperately against hers and greedily consumed all she was willing to give. He couldn't get enough, her scent, her taste, she was intoxicating, driving him to the edge. He pulled back suddenly, and her look of disappointment made him chuckle. He dropped to his knees quickly, pulling her right to the edge of the bed; his arms hooked around the backs of her knees, holding her in place. She gasped and squirmed against him, but he had made her escape impossible. She was never getting away. He buried his face in her hot, wet cunt and breathed deeply. He was addicted, and the incoherent noises she was making were forcing all his blood to rush from his brain and into his cock. And then, Draco Malfoy did exactly what he had promised in the library just that morning, he devoured her.

Hermione was sure that Draco's head in between her legs was, hands down, the most erotic experience of her life. She couldn't pull her eyes away as his tongue expertly lapped up her juices; the pressure of his mouth against her clit, sucking and licking her as if he couldn't get enough. Hermione forgot her name as his fingers slid into her, she forgot all of Grawmps Elemental Magical Laws when he swirled his tongue over her in demand; his fingers pumping into her, forcing her to submit. Her body was tightening, she could feel her orgasm within reach and suddenly tidal waves of pleasure were coursing through her. She let out a delectable scream as Draco held her against his face, his fingernails gripping her ass. She ground herself against him coming undone as flashes of color and lights exploded before her eyes. Hermione shuddered as her thighs clamped involuntarily against him in spasms. He let go of her quickly and was already undoing his pants. His jaw ticking with strain as his eyes bore into hers with possessive passion. She was his. He didn't have to say it, she could see it as clear as ever reflecting in his stormy orbs.

And then he was naked. And my God, if he wasn't the most outstanding male specimen she had ever had the pleasure of viewing. He put The David to shame. He should be studied and sketched…but before she could complete the thought he was on top of her, forcing her back against his emerald green sheets. He paused for a moment looking into her eyes, searching for something. She stared back at him, in wonder.

"I won't share you, Hermione." She ran her hands down his chest and he closed his eyes as if the action had physically pained him. "I won't let him-" But then it was her turn to shut him up. She reached up, threading her fingers through his hair and pulled him flush against her sweet, naked flesh. He moaned into her mouth as she spread her legs until she felt him at her entrance. He pulled back again to open his mouth and with one quick surge, Hermione thrust her hips up, taking him fully inside of her wet heat. He dropped his head against her chest, his fingers strangling the sheets on either side of her head. Her exquisite body was causing him so much pain he felt as if he were on fire. Or dunked into an icy sea. He pulled out slowly, his every muscle shaking, before impaling her once more. And again and again. He was sweating, his eyes glued to her flushed face. She was a goddess. His goddess.

Hermione wrapped her smooth legs around him, puling him deeper into her womb as his cock throbbed inside of her. He was divine, his skill unparalleled as he sunk into her over and over again. This was salvation, Draco was sure she would be the one to kill him. This was it, no going back.

"You're mine." He growled as his hands gripped her curls, his hips sweetly singing against hers. Their wet flesh and perspiring bodies melded together in the firelight.

"Yes." She hissed. Her nails running down his back and over his ass, pulling him as close to her as possible.

"Say it." He moaned as her pussy clamped tightly around him.

"I'm yours." She whined, her body shaking against him. Draco could no longer hold back. He lifted himself off of her, grabbing her violently by the hips, he filled her as deeply as he possibly could. He wanted to watch, wanted to look in her eyes as she came undone. His gaze was smoldering, unrelenting as he thrust into her with all of his strength; her beautiful breasts bouncing, her wet pussy sliding against his burning flesh. And then she was screaming, and coming all over him. He ground himself against her again and again, until a roar tore from his throat; he held onto her as tight as he could, sure that if he let go, he would fall off the earth. His mind was shattering, her cunt was pulsing against him as he came inside her, his hips jerking uncontrollably. She held onto him, her body shaking, radiating intense heat. They collapsed together, sweaty limbs and harsh breaths.

Minutes passed before Draco rolled off of her and onto his back. He closed his eyes. Several moments of silence passed before he felt her start to stir. Before Hermione could think, he had grabbed her, hauling her up against his side. He pulled the covers over them and she hesitated only a moment before laying her head on his chest. His arms tangled around her and she allowed herself a small smile. That had been incredible. She would most certainly worry about it in the morning. Right now she was too tired, and too comfortable. She closed her eyes and snuggled closer.

"Who needs whiskey when you're around?" He muttered, his eyes closed once again. And before she could reply with a very witty comment, they were both fast asleep. So asleep, in fact, that they had forgotten to lock the door.