Umm... If you sent me a PM that required a reply in, say, the last six months, and I didn't? You should probably try again. I can see I have some OLD stuff lying around that I never got around to replying to. It's nothing personal. Honest! I just... sort of suck lately. XD

Oh, and a disclaimer that should probably be an end-note, but whatever: Various reasonings will be elaborated on in next chapter, so never fear! (that was suitably vague, right? XD)


It was late.

She should be going to bed, Hermione reasoned even as she was leaning against the cold dungeon wall outside of Theo's room, trying to make her legs stop shaking. A bit of sleep would probably do a world of good. Maybe she'd even forget that she had not so subtly offered to have sex with her boyfriend just seconds before he chose to dump her.

Right. As if she would ever forget that particular humiliation.

A couple of the tears she'd been holding back escaped. She really wasn't any good at this. Perhaps she should just stop dating altogether. At least until she figured out how to tell whether a boy really meant what he said or not. Trying to figure things out like this was confusing and it hurt. She had honestly thought that Theo would understand. She'd certainly never dreamed that he would just cut her like this.

She had trusted him, damn it. Trusted him to understand her and to talk to her if there was something that needed to be talked about. Trusted him to work with her and not just keep all of his thoughts to himself.

She had trusted him to be a human being.

Raising her hand to wipe her eyes, she noticed the ring. The damned ring. Such a stupid thing to lose your boyfriend over. Well, there was no reason to wear it anymore, was there? She didn't care if it made her petty, but why should she try to fix Theo's relationship with Draco when Theo was ready to throw her away this easily? He hadn't even given her a chance to explain. Not that she would have known what to say, exactly. Her grand scheme had just been to try and make Malfoy make an effort and then she'd sort of hoped they themselves would take it from there.

The idiot boys could both use the friendship, but neither of them seemed willing to admit it and so she'd done something she knew was stupid in order to help out her boyfriend. He had to be mental if he thought she wanted to wear this thing. In fact, she would prove him wrong by ending the deal right now. Not that it would really matter all that much, because she wasn't going to forgive him that easily, but just proving him wrong would feel nice. Maybe it would even take away some of the sting of the humiliation.

Feeling determined and almost convincing herself that this wasn't just a way to try and forget what had just happened, she marched up to Draco's door and knocked. She might as well inform him of the change while she was here. When there was no answer, she frowned and knocked again. She knew he was there. She could feel his presence and his building annoyance. Snorting, she yanked the ring off. There, that fixed matters. Sort of.

Ok, it fixed nothing, but at least she didn't have to be inside Malfoy's head anymore.

Finally, the door was yanked open. "What?" When he noticed it was her, he did a double take. "Granger? What's wrong? Why are you here?"

"I didn't come down here for you," she said, before, deciding that she didn't want anyone to listen in on their conversation, pushing past him. "But since I was in the neighborhood I thought I might as well tell you that the deal is off." With her back to him, she put the ring down on his desk.


Draco stifled a yawn and tried to shake the wool from his brain. He had just been able to get rid of certain really compelling images of Hermione in order to go to sleep and now she was here? In his room? To call off their deal? Again? If she was that bored, couldn't she at least come up with something new?

He shook his head. "We already had this conversation, Granger. Why do you insist on having this fight? And at this hour?"

She turned to face him and he had to struggle a bit to keep his expression annoyed and his stance relaxed. Something was wrong. Something had upset her. He assumed that the reason she was here was to take it out on him. Shouldn't that somehow annoy him more instead of less?

"It's not that late," she pointed out.

He didn't actually know if she was right, but he suspected she was. He'd just been so very tired after having gotten next to no sleep the night before. "You knew I was sleeping," he countered.

"And I should care… why?" She tossed her hair back, looking down her nose at him.

The action gave Draco a much better look at her face and for a moment he didn't know what to say. He had the strangest urge to find out what was wrong, but he knew she wasn't going to tell him if he asked. "So that's your way of getting back at me?" he finally managed to say. "Waking me up? Lame, Granger. Really lame. Want some pointers on some more interesting ways to get back at someone? Tormenting people is my forte, as you may very well know, while yours is… What is it you do, again, apart from memorizing books and snogging people?"

He almost smiled at the expression on Hermione's face. She really chose the funniest moments to allow herself to be baited. He just figured that if fighting with him would make her feel better, he might as well oblige. That was the one thing he could be good for.

She didn't react the way he expected her to, though. After a second, the annoyed expression disappeared, and instead she looked on the verge of tears. He shifted a bit uncomfortably, really hoping she wasn't about to cry. He wasn't sure he could handle her crying right now. He was afraid that if that happened he might do something stupid like try to comfort her. He was even more afraid that comforting her would include close physical proximity and he might try to kiss her. And he was mostly afraid that she would become overwhelmed again and let him. He wasn't sure that even though he knew it wasn't real he would be able to stop himself.

He was desperately praying that she'd somehow find her temper again and just be mad at him. Mad he could handle.

"I am good at those things, though. Aren't I?" she quietly said.

This brought him up short. What was he supposed to answer to that? She knew damn well that she could do more than memorize books and that the thought of her kisses was literally keeping him up at night. Did she really want him to put that into words? If she did, that would be strange in and of itself, because up until now she had seemed to be very adamant about denying his attraction to her.

"You're quiet," she observed. "How should I take that?"

"You know the answer," he replied, feeling his confusion turn into frustration and then anger. Anger at her for putting him on the spot like this. It just wasn't fair. Why should he have to admit to wanting her when she didn't even want to acknowledge it? It just made him look stupid and desperate and he hated looking either of those things.

She stepped towards him and he took a step back in sheer confusion, coming up against the door. What now?

"Have you ever taken the punishment for something you didn't do?" she asked.

What the hell kind of question was that? "Sure."

"Did it ever make you want to earn it?"

Huh? He glanced uncertainly at her.

"You want me to get creative in how to get back at you?" she asked in a low voice that didn't sound like her at all.

Something about the way she acted was disturbing to him. Even more disturbing was the fact that his tired, oversexed mind was currently ignoring the fact that she was acting odd, and any reason for why that might be, in lieu of noticing that she was there, alone with him, in his room, standing much too close. It didn't help matters that her hair was looking slightly rumpled and her lips…. It wasn't fair that he should want something so much and not be able to have it. "What are you on about?" His voice was hoarse to his own ears.

She took another step closer, eliminating almost all space between them. "It's so strange," she said in a voice that could almost be called dreamy, "how people often want things they can't have or things that aren't good for them, isn't it?"

He was shaking his head slowly. If she was thinking what he was thinking she was thinking, she must be in a really bad shape to even contemplate such a thing. She wasn't that cruel. "I already know I can't touch you," he reminded her. "Reminding me of that will serve little purpose." Except drive him out of his mind, not to mention probably make him lose his control. Then she'd really get some fun feedback from the ring. He was mostly sorry that he probably wouldn't be close enough to see it, because she would most likely be long gone by the time that happened.

She shook her head and placed her hands on his chest. "That's not what I'm going to do."

His mouth was going dry. It seemed that tonight she really was that cruel. "Then what?"

"Has nobody ever told you to be careful what you wish for?" she whispered, pulling down his head.

He tried to resist. She obviously didn't know what she was doing. "The ring…"

"Is on your table."

He glanced over at his table. She wasn't lying. How sad was it that the simple thought that she was acting on her own seemed to be a powerful aphrodisiac to him? He tried to tamp it down and clear his head. She wasn't doing this of her own accord. "A spell…"

"No spell."

"Drunk?"

She snorted.

His mind was growing steadily fuzzier. "Potion, then?"

"No excuse!"

She yanked his head down the rest of the way.

His mind went blank even before she touched her lips to his. This was simply so surreal that he couldn't process it. The lips against his own, the curves pressed against him, even the unruly hair that he suddenly found his fingers threading through… it all felt so soft and appealing, making him want more.

She was also warm. And much too real for this to be a dream, which was sort of the only alternative that he could think of to her being under some sort of influence.

Her mouth opened under his and he couldn't keep back a sound of pure bliss when she lightly brushed the tip of her tongue against his.

If she was planning to tease him into a pained state, she was already doing a very good job of it. He didn't mind, though, which was the truly horrifying bit. But if it made her feel better, then everyone was winning, right? He wasn't using her if she was using him, was he? And he certainly didn't mind kissing her better, even if not doing anything about this state he was in after she put the ring back on was going to be hell.

She ran one hand from his shoulder and down the length of his arm to grab him by the wrist and gently tuck his hand free from her hair and move it down to her chest.

He couldn't help it. He made another sound and began exploring what was freely offered. It didn't matter anymore that it was at least ten kinds of a bad idea.

He was beginning to suspect that this was a very elaborate way of trying to kill him, but, still, he really wasn't complaining. How could he be? He would gladly stand here like this all night.

No sooner had he thought that than she broke free from him.

He wanted to object, but caught himself at the last second. This wasn't for his benefit. It never would be. Complaining was useless, if not directly counter-productive.

Still, another few minutes wouldn't have hurt.

"Come on," she said, tugging at his hands.

Still feeling a little dazed—and his brains quite frankly lacking blood—he followed her the few steps without much thought. It wasn't until he realized that she'd sat down on his bed that he blinked and frowned and tried to gather his thoughts. "What are you doing?" he murmured.

"This is more comfortable, don't you think?" she asked. It didn't escape his attention that she wasn't quite meeting his gaze. What was going on?

He was about to ask her just that when she opened the top button of her shirt, effectively rendering him speechless. She was going to take this even further.

Just how bad a shape did she need him to be in? This question sparked a huge conflict in him. There was the part that wanted to reason with her, to ask her to please stop before he lost his sanity. And then there was the part going, "Oh, Merlin, yes!" that just wanted to grab all it could get.

It was, of course, the last part that won out.

Hermione scooted a bit back on the bed and he was crawling up her length, covering her body with his own and capturing her mouth for another kiss before they were even done settling. It was a more aggressive kiss than before, showing her just how starved for her he was. If she could take it further, so could he. If she planned on driving him insane, he wasn't going to worry about scaring her off anymore.

She didn't flinch. She didn't pull back. She didn't even hesitate in responding.

His need went through the roof.

With some effort he broke off the kiss, before whispering, "It's working really well, love, but you might be overestimating how far you can go before it stops being a punishment." He pushed against her, hoping she would get his meaning. He could come like this. Hell, soon he probably would if she didn't stop rubbing against him like that. Oh, Merlin, it felt too good. He closed his eyes, shivering slightly. Much, much too good. It could get a little embarrassing if she wasn't careful.

She laughed a little breathlessly, and he wryly thought that it was good he at least could supply some entertainment. Then she caressed his earlobe with her lips as she breathed, "Who said stopping was part of my plan?"

A physical jolt went through him. She was going to make him come?

The thought alone almost finished the deed.


Suddenly his hand stilled and he drew back a little. Hermione felt a little bit confused until she noticed the feel of body-temperature silver moving against her skin. He'd come across her snake and rose pendant and it had puzzled him when it had come to life, nothing more.

He moved his hand a bit and the snake stopped moving. He still kept looking at it rather blankly, though.

"I'll just move it out of the way," Hermione muttered, pushing it aside.

That seemed to snap Draco out of it and his eyes moved to hers. For a minute, he kept the blank look, but then he groaned—and not in a good way.