Well take me, take me back to your bed, I love you so much that it hurts my head.
Say I don't mind you under my skin; I'll let the bad parts in, the bad parts in.
When we were made we were set apart, life is a test and I get bad marks.
Now some saint got the job of writing down my sins.
The storm is coming, the storm is coming in.

You're brought back but you're running, I'll find sleep in the end tonight.
I can't shake this little feeling I'll never get anything right.
- Degausser, Brand New

"I feel a little bad, Draco. Maybe we should have gone. What are we even doing?"
She may feel a little bad, but she's giggling like a naughty school girl.

"Not telling, love."

I'm dragging Hermione by the hand up the stairs, a small surprise I've planned. Presently there is a Quidditch match going on between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, but I can't be fussed. And I know she can't be fussed either, so I convinced her to come along with this ruse. The school is empty, we have access to everything.

"It just feels like we're breaking some kind of unofficial school rule. Quidditch participation is law," she jokes. "Ginny was shocked when I told her I was skiving."

"Yeah well, if I don't get to participate, I've lost all interest, haven't I?" I say, making her shake her head. "It's not like your house is on the line. Though I'd probably try, I wouldn't make you miss a Gryffindor match."

"At least you're honest," she laughs. "Now seriously, where are we going? We don't have to be in a stand, but we could at least be outside enjoying the unusually bright sunshine."
She points to the glass window we're passing, the rays filtering through to our eyes.

"We could, but I want to be alone with you. Outside is not secluded enough, and the library too dangerous," I wiggle my eyebrows. "Besides, I don't much imagine that the reaction of Potter will be good once Ginny tells him where you are. Don't want him to attack me."

"He's not going to attack you," she groans. "Okay well...Maybe Ron will….just don't remind me. And alone? Have something up your sleeve, do you? Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!"

I ignore the pleas and her yanking my sleeve as we get to the last step, marching down the corridor to the end, turning the corner to a seemingly empty wall. Only I know better.
"The fifth floor?" she asks with intrigue.

I rifle through my trouser pocket and clutch the item I'm looking for.
"Your Prefect's badge?" her eyes suddenly alight and I smirk. "That kind of privacy? But the bathroom is at the beginning of the hall."

"My dear Hermione, I am, by unfortunate default, Head Boy. Nott declined the offer and I was hauled into Slughorn's office last week and yelled at because I haven't been doing my job. Which only served to remind me that I had access to this particular area of the castle. This is the Slytherin-only bathroom, something little known to the rest of the students because our house likes to keep it in the family. I don't fancy going into the same lavatory that Weasley or Potter abused being prefect and Quidditch captain."

I find the groove in the stone wall that is sunken in, and place the badge so it perfectly fits, pressing it in. Hermione is apparently mesmerized by this information, now intently watching what's going to happen next.

"Password?"
A sultry voice booms from nowhere, causing her to jump and grab my shoulder.

"Slytherin's are Supreme," I declare happily, while my lady rolls her eyes.

The wall, much like my common room, dissolves, dropping my badge to the floor. I pick it up, wink at Hermione and beckon her inside.

Immediately I am warmed to the place; never been in here before now.
A large stone fireplace is positioned at one wall, a cream square rug positioned in front of it. Fluffy green towels lie in one crook, toiletries in the other. The room is dim. A shiny black, the floor and walls are carved out of obsidian that reflects our entering bodies with the light given in by candles resting on ledges in the curves of the ceiling. The basin that is the giant bath is circular, made of a pretty jade. The multiple taps lining the bath have snakes engraved onto the valves.

"This reminds me a lot of what I'd imagine your bedroom to be like," is Granger's first comment, looking round the space, seemingly impressed. "From what I saw in the pensieve."

"I suppose it resembles it," I reply, laughing. "I can't believe I even sunk to the level of using the common plebeians bathhouses. This is fantastic."

I shake off my shoes and kick them near the door, which has now become solidified again.

"Yes, I must admit it is, quite dark though, isn't it? No windows."

"I prefer romantic; low lights, nice and secluded?" I attempt, walking over to her and kissing her on the lips. "Question though, before I try to seduce you."

She snorts, rather impolitely if you ask me, and says; "Yes?"

"How come you aren't Head Girl? Surely you of all people deserve it."
I contemplate her expression, her hands crossed, looking shyly at the ground, shuffling.

"I turned it down. McGonagall sent me a letter before school asking me if I want to do it, she was going to give it to me no question," she flushes. She's quite adorable when she wants to be modest. "But I just said no, thank you. I suppose a part of me wanted to focus on school, enjoy my last year without too much responsibility, the stress for OWLs was enough to kill me, and I was still recovering from last year. NEWTs are going to be a hundred times worse, I'm sure."

"Do you regret it then? Cause let me tell you, you can have my responsibilities. Apparently McGonagall suggested giving it to Nott or I because it would enable us to do better in school, to try harder. I doubt any authority I cast out would do a damn thing though, would it?" I slump onto the rug, patting the spot next to me so she can be close to me.

"I do regret it a little," she admits, sitting. I lie down and pull her onto me so her head rests on my chest, snaking my arm under her shoulders. "But I hope it won't affect my future in the long run."

I caress her arm soothingly, seriously holding back a laugh at this point.
"Honestly woman, the Ministry will take you in a snap. They'd be mad not to. And if you want to do the Muggle thing your grades are more than enough, yeah?"

"I suppose you're right," she mumbles, planting a peck along my jaw. "I know this is a heavy question but, would you be upset if I decided to go to university in London? Or elsewhere? I haven't yet decided what I want to do. Magic is a huge part of my life now, but I've always wanted to go to school, I don't know if I'd be ready just to jump into an internship or training here."
She's so silly, honestly.
She's implying we'll still be together by then, that makes me happy enough in itself.

"You don't even have to ask, Hermione. God, do what you want to do. Even if I said no that wouldn't stop you, yeah? I think it's great that you are so driven, despite what I may say. You aren't meant to stay in a small space like this. I don't have high hopes for myself, but I do for you." I feel her squeezing me tightly, and that butterfly feeling is back again in my stomach.

"I'm glad… you could do well if you tried, you know? You're very smart."

"I guess I just can't be bothered," I reply, still uncomfortable to her praises of me. I know I'm intelligent, but coming from her, I don't suppose I deserve it.

"Well be bothered. What do you want to do after graduation anyways?"

I exhale, finding it difficult to tell her this.
"You know, at the start of this year I came back because I wanted to get a job, prove to myself and everyone else that I'm not completely useless. I wanted to do it to escape too. All last year I was numb, unable to justify my actions to myself because of what happened, and the year before I was trapped with fear. I was really pathetic and I did things I'll always regret. After this last month with you, I have come to understand I've never felt any sort of real freedom. That I am so ridiculously ignorant about everything. And getting a job would only distract me, it won't resolve any of my emotions, or make me happy."

"So you don't know then?" she asks, her voice soft. I lean over to see her face, and it's forlorn.

"Oh, don't be sad for me," I tell her, nudging her until she gives a wan smile. "Remember, no more playing victim. Deserve everything I got handed to me, I have. And I think I do know. I want to travel. I have the means to do it, I need to get out of the pureblood bubble I've been living in. I was genuinely scared about visiting your home. And that was just ridiculous. More than anything I'd like to see what I've been missing, segregated France isn't good enough."

"And where would you want to go?"

I shrug, playing with the hem of my shirt, not wanting to sound unorganized and too idealistic. "Everywhere. Eastern Europe, the rest of the UK. New Zealand maybe, Japan while I'm already that far."

"Sounds very adventurous," she replies, a twinkle in her eye. "I'd love to do that."

"Well do it."

She laughs incredulously. "Like I could. I doubt my dad would like the idea of me going off to the other side of the country, let alone planet. Even if I took a year off, I'd never be able to ask my parents for the money. And I don't want to work a menial job for months just to go. Even if Floo cuts my travel costs…I couldn't."

"Come with me then."
I say it simply, playing with her fingers. You know, all non-chalant, like it shouldn't be a big deal. When it definitely is.
It's monstrous.
Finding someone who can tolerate me for more than an hour is difficult enough, but for weeks on end?

I could do it. With her, I could do anything.

"Come with you?"

"Better than going alone."

"You want to travel the world, Draco. That's a lot of time, a lot of time alone. I do love you, but….you know."
And I do know.
What she means, of course. I'm not a Potter or a Weasley. It's a big commitment.

"You could always just come to one spot. Or just wait until after you finish your degree." She smacks me lightly on the stomach. "You know I find it rather rude that you keep hitting me all the time."

"You're not upset I shot your idea down? Just 'after my degree'?"

"Yeah. You don't have to go everywhere, we could go on holiday." Her expression doesn't waiver. "What? Graduation is in 6 months. That means we'll have been together for nearly 8. That isn't so farfetched is it?"

She nestles in close.
"I suppose it's not. Now, what was that about you seducing me?"

"Eager are we?"

"Maybe."
She rolls herself onto me, straddling my waist and sitting up. Pretty much causing me to have an instant flare up in my nether regions.

"You should really be thankful I'm alright at having restraint. It's been two weeks since we banged. Been absolutely dying," I chuckle as she kisses my lips.

"Have you? I suppose I've been caught up in school a lot, I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be sorry. I think my grades have improved drastically since spending time with you, actually. And I did promise you that I'd help you recover your notes." We never did find that lost essay, but I'll be grateful we didn't for the rest of my life.

She flushes and I grin cheekily wide.
"Don't be silly, you already did well."

"Yeah, but it's nice to have somebody proofread my work, never let anybody else do it."

"Should I feel honoured?" She sticks her tongue out insolently between her teeth, trying not to snicker.

"Of course you should," I reply, bucking my hips up and startling her so she falls into me. Grabbing hold of her neck and face I then whisper, "Not as thrilled as I'll ever be that I get to do all these things with you."

Her face glows in the scarce light; she grants me a small, sultry grin. Leaning down and clutching my hair she snogs me tenderly. I continue the rhythm, grabbing fistfuls of hers and rubbing between her shoulder blades, the place she likes most.
"What are all 'these things' you mean?" she murmurs in my ear, dragging my hand from her back to underneath her delightfully warm chest, down below her skirt. "Is this one of those things?"

I feel my stomach tighten, her confidence turning me on more than anything.
I push my fingers past her panties, immediately catching my breath as she groans from the contact, and I raring to go at how wet she already is.

"It's everything," I say, while she drops her mouth ever so slightly open at the slow tortuous movement of my fingers. I stroke her, barely touching the sensitive spot, making her wiggle her hips against me to get closer.

I push her off and lay her beside me, discarding my robes, unfastening hers. I throw them away while she unbuttons my shirt and I hers, both of us desperate to feel the heat of each other's skin.
"And not just the sex bits, even though I must admit I'm having a hard time coming up with something that's better at the moment," I continue, tracing an outline around her erect nipples over her bra, and downward to the bones above where she wants me to be.

But she doesn't like my teasing; she yanks my tie forwards, still round my throat, and crushes me with her mouth. My cock now pulsing, my mind crazy with how brazen she's become. A vast difference from the last time we were alone in secret.
I force myself away and lift myself up, tugging at her skirt to pull it off her legs completely, along with her underwear. I regard her beautiful body, her chest rising and falling from her panting in anticipation.
"Do you want to get right to it then?" she speaks, so softly, looking up and down from my eyes to my pants.

"No I don't," I utter. Gently I trail pecks on her chin, journeying over her collarbones, through the middle of her beautiful breasts and all the way down her stomach.

When I reach way down low I hear her sharp inhalation, taking great relish in her reaction when I grasp her thighs and spread them open. I can feel her tense, apprehensive at how intimate this is, perhaps. How new it is; wondering how my tongue will feel.
"Relax."

She sighs, sending a shiver down my spine, and I take my first lick, tasting her.
To find that she's somehow so sweet and warm.
I feel her loosen up as I dart my tongue over her clit, then lap at it teasingly slow. She releases a loud whimper, and I dig my nails tighter on the grip I have of her arse. Using her legs, she pulls me closer, wrapping them around my neck. Then clawing at my head, nearly pulling out my hair. So fucking turned on by this point, I'm almost delirious.

"Faster, please," she begs, and my only reaction is to oblige, pressing my tongue down harder, pulling out all the stops, twisting and circling it in every which way to find out what she likes most. I can sense her calves shaking, her body responding exactly how I intended.
A sudden recollection mists through my distracted brain. I place a finger at her entrance, pushing it in and out tentatively in time with my licks. Though I don't dare tell her, Pansy told me this sensation is almost as good as sex itself.
And she was right, because it causes Hermione to become completely unrestrained. The combination of double pleasure too much to handle. But her enjoyment is only a fuel, and I give her everything I have, I'm so ridiculously aroused, never wanting this to end.

She's repeating her 'uh's and 'ah's, and I'm so damn hard I'm going to burn a hole in the ground. She flails as I keep a firm hold on her lower half, almost screaming now. She's so loud.
"I'm going to – I – god -"

I look up at her exclamation, out of breath, about to continue when she catches my eye. Her expression is one of a woman undone, full of carnal longing, and now I do want to stop, selfishness washing over me.
"Please can I fuck you?" I plead.

She looks distraught for a moment, painfully close to release. But she nods, about to get up. I unbuckle my pants, pressing her down. I abandon my boxers, position myself to get ready and use the tried and true method.
"No, no. You're all mine; my turn to be on top."

She says nothing, just breathes in expectation while raising her legs up to my hips. I glide her body over the carpet to me, grabbing her waist to slide myself into her. Her throat catches, and she grasps my forearms as I ease my way in. Desiring to be nearer to her, I lower myself down so I can stroke her cheeks with my thumbs and snog her, the sensation just as great as the last time we were intertwined.
"You okay?" I whisper.

"Yes, god, yes." she breathes blissfully. "Go faster, like last time."

I'm surprised I don't come right then. Placing my palms beside her, I thrust out, and then in again much quicker than the initial. She covers her mouth, widening in ecstasy, a little mewl escaping: I can't fucking stand it. I feel myself lose any sanity I had as she snakes her legs over my back like ivy, wrapping them around me fully.
I start to drill her with as much force as I can muster. Just to see her face, just to watch her eyelids wilt, as if she's drank too much, and then reopen when I hit a spot she likes. To watch her lips quiver with the sensation, and listen to every little gasp, and every little incoherent word she speaks.

And then a glorious thing happens, where she unravels her body from mine, and plants her feet on the carpet. I am a bit disappointed until she decides she'll use all her might to push back into me, while I'm plunging into her, so deep now I want to scream. The intensity of each thrust increasing. I'm holding her head, she's grasping my waist.

But our tempo is stilted now because she's trying so hard. I want to take the lead; I'm greedy and I want the credit.
Hermione keeps on chanting, "Harder, Draco. Faster," and I whisper back that I will, but she has to stop interrupting my thrusts, because my weight is too much for hers.
She glances at my expression, momentarily affronted, until my obvious lust is noticed; her eyes loll to the back of her head. I can feel all of her melting onto the ground, her command now compliant. Now I have the power; I can do anything.

I'm starting to feel like an animal, rabid and wild. I'm definitely growling with need, or some noisy equivalent. I've pushed her backwards so I can suck on her tits, bite her neck, slam myself into her. Gripping her hips, hard, I'm fucking her; I'm not making love to her.
And she lets me do it.
She wants it.
I'm drowning, feeling so near to orgasm, hoping she's still near too. And her arms are raised high above her head lying where he hair cascades onto the rug, her face still, too turned on to function. In absolute bliss, I'm wishing. Her legs are resting beside my hips now, and I've decided to lean back on my knees, spread out, to let her breathe, pulling her upwards into me and pushing myself out. Her back arcs, pleasing me with a full view of her dazzling, sexy form.

Suddenly, her legs tense, her hands slide down to snatch the carpet and she emits the most arousing cries, deep from her throat. She can't turn it off. I go as hard as I can once more, sweating, and wanting, and needing this. So badly.
All at once she gives a final yelp, her body shaking and then drooping. When I know she's finished, I find my will to try and make it last dissolve completely. My cock tightens at its peak, my heart pumping into overdrive, and I'm cumming inside of her.

She moans at the feeling, trailing her hands to mine as I collapse on her. I pull out of her slowly, spent and so content.

"Feel good?" I ask, rasping for air, swiftly becoming exhausted. She tugs me beside her so she can regulate her heartbeat.

"Mmm," she responds, rolling over to cover me with her arms.

"Tired?" I chuckle, and I can see her faintly smile, poking me in the chest.

"I'm kind of cold actually. You'd think I'd be really warm…..we should've lit the fire, made the experience really cliché," she giggles, huddling closer to me.

"Yeah, would've added to my romantic persona you've been crafting for me. We could always redress, not that I really would like to or anything," I tease, ghosting her hard nipples with the back of my fingers. She shivers and pushes my arm away.

"We could take a bath," she then suggests tentatively, glancing over at the tub mere inches from our toes.

"A bath? Feeling a bit dirty?" She rolls her eyes.

"No, but it would be nice. The night after we went out was the first time I'd had a bath in months."

"I'm not exactly that partial to them after what happened, but hey, you're here to save me again in case I fall asleep." She stares at me with furrowed eyebrows and then stands up.

Damn, I meant it as a joke.

I watch the way her hips sway as she wanders over to the bath's edge, hopping down to splay her legs over into the empty basin. Immediately, I long to touch her again so I roll over, grab my wand from beside me and join her. Swishing it lazily, the taps begin to pour hot steamy water, bubbles added from the two outside faucets.

Sitting behind her, I wrap my arms round her middle and press other things into her, placing the tip of my wand to her belly and incanting the contraception spell. She looks at me shyly and utters a thanks.

We're silenced as the dripping sound fills our ears, yet it's not comfortable. So I speak.
"Did you enjoy when I came inside of you?" I whisper, discarding my wand to rub my thumbs along her knees and lean my head over her shoulder to see her lips move.

"Yes," she blushes, settling more into my frame, and then dipping her feet in. It fills up quite quickly.

"Am I embarrassing you with sex-related inquiry?" She nods. "Well now you know how I felt a few weeks ago."

She doesn't say anything, I expected her to chuckle. In unison we witness the rising level of the bubbles, and when it's nearly there she leaves me. Floating in, immersing herself completely under the surface and coming back up for air. She swims to the other side, sitting on the ledge.

"You okay?" I ask with more concern.
She's not talking and it's weird. I am less graceful of a diver than she is, feeling gawky as I plunge in to make my way to her. It's hot and comforting, but concern is calling me.

Somehow, she's more pretty when wet, I'm noticing as I slip up onto the stone. Her bushy hair now slick and straight so her face is framed. Eyes standing out, freckles soft, she glistens. Looking downwards, avoiding my gaze, she's biting her lip.

"Is it about what I said?" I question, anxiety filling me, constricting my stomach so I'm about to explode.

I brush stray hairs away from her cheeks, and grab them to force her to view me.

She swallows a lump in her throat.
"Not about the sex questions…not about me saving you, really. I'm just wondering about that night. Why you had a nightmare about me at all. And why you showed me in the pensieve. I never wanted to ask you because I didn't want to remember it or trigger it for you either."
Oh.

"Oh."
I take a deep breath, unsure of myself; defenseless.
"You don't have to say," she adds quietly, flickering her eyes up to me and then back to the water.

"It's because I was thinking about you," I admit, my voice now echoing as the bath has settled. "I was rejecting my feelings about finding you attractive. Still caught up in it when I went with Nott to get clean. My mind wouldn't clear up, and before I fell asleep, I was looking at my mark..."

I examine it as I break off, trailing my eyes reluctantly down. Droplets are running down my arm, and I'm loathing it even more than usual lately. Patiently, Hermione is watching me, and when she doesn't say anything, I try to find the will to continue.

"Right after the war ended last year...I had insomnia because of the nightmares. I never wanted to go to sleep. Before I decided to drink in excess, my mother bought me sleepless dream potions, but after using them constantly for a few months I grew a tolerance to them. I stopped. I didn't want to get addicted. Guess I got dependent on alcohol though, didn't I? The transition from prescription to whiskey was really rough. I kept having dreams that made me relive memories of myself making bad decisions, becoming my father as I said. And this time...I wasn't expecting the dreams. I wasn't prepared. I forced myself to ween of the drinking to return here, and they hadn't come back yet. So I saw that night when you were in the manor. Only, it was ten times worse because nobody saved you...Only, I decided to try and help pathetically," I finish nervously.

"And the pensieve?"

"I suppose I just wanted to explain to you that night better. Show you I do have remorse somewhere in my bones. I'm not very good at apologizing, or admitting I'm wrong. Unless it benefits me or gets people off my back."

"I think most people are like that," she comforts me, her fingers tangling mine.
She shivers slightly, goose bumps forming on her arms. I lean into her, holding her bare body against mine, pondering why we always have such intense moments together alone.

From blissful to tearful in five minutes, from sex to thinking.

"You aren't like that," I murmur, head resting on hers.

"Oh, I am. I will never admit I'm wrong until proven to be," she replies breezily, making me smile.

"You're not often wrong though. And I mean, you wouldn't say sorry unless you felt it was deserved. Which is honest."

"True…I guess I find it strange you act like I'm so great, or perfect or something. Or if you don't, it comes off that way."

"I just love you." Her grip on mine tightens, my chest slowly deflating air into my heart, calming me down but filling me with something else. "Funny, you know, when I kissed you in your room I was having a wet dream about you. In case you also wondered about that. I'm sorry if that's disgusting, or whatever, but if that never happened I imagine I wouldn't have had the guts to come right out and tell you how I feel."

"A wet dream?" she repeats, her face twisting into mild amusement and embarrassment.

"Yes, you were sexy and bossy, wanted me to kiss you. It was surreal."

"Sounds like it," she laughs lightly. "I didn't notice if you were hard, actually, I was too flabbergasted by what happened."

"Great, I was hoping you didn't. I never wanted you to think I only wanted to be with you to bang …that would've been awful. I told myself initially it was just sexual attraction, but I was lying. You're too damn nice for your own good."

"Oh shush. You're not so bad underneath, and charming when you're not being an arse," she teases. "And anyways, I was distracted by your looks before I realized you were smart, so don't feel too bad."

"Ouch, oh, I'm wounded," I reply, putting a hand to my forehead dramatically. "I feel terrible, how could you be so mean? I will never recover from this ang–"
She pushes me into the water, startling me as my eardrums fill up and my hair gets soaked.

Resurfacing, I notice her little smirk, sitting innocently on the edge, legs crossed and fighting laughter.
"You think you're too clever, eh? Think I like you enough not to retaliate?"

Before she has real time to react, I grab her by the legs and slide her in with me, a little shriek escaping her. She sinks momentarily and come up in front of me, both of us floating now, treading gently in the basin.

We're both grinning like idiots and she plants a swift kiss on my lips. I grab her waist under the surface, skin on skin submerged feeling so satisfying.
"In a better mood now?" I whisper, leaning my forehead against hers. "You seemed very melancholy a second ago."

"I'm fine. I just worry about you, sometimes," she assures me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. "I don't like the way you joke about serious things. I realize it's more to comfort me, but it doesn't. And I know we're trying not to throw you a pity party anymore, but the more you reveal about yourself, the more I just want to give you a hug and make you tea or something."
My stomach strangles into knots, it was never my intention to make her waste time toiling over my emotions.

"Hm, well don't. I'll stop doing that if it bothers you, Hermione, it was to mask it a bit. But you needn't fret so much about me, I'm okay. I've been a lot better being with you, being around people again. There are plenty of others who experienced similar things to me. You said you did too…you told me you had bad dreams…about what?" I ask, pulling her into me. I don't want to feel like i'm unique, I don't want to think i'm the only one who can't handle anything. "If you want to say."

"Mostly about that night," she mumbles, causing me to squeeze her harder. "They were pretty bad for a while...about everyone I love dying. I'd wake up in the middle of the night seeing Fred….seeing Tonks – Lupin –" she heaves a great sigh and her voice breaks. "Sometimes i'd have to check to see if Ron and Harry were still in their beds."
Fuck.
I regret asking her about this, we were moving past the gloomy atmosphere.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I exclaim panicky, quickly. But it's too late, and I feel her shake. Tears falling on my shoulder.

I move her backwards, so she can lean against something solid while I hold her as best I can.

"It was just how I was grieving," she explains, with a wobbly tone, trying to reassure me when it should be the other way. "We were just so sad, when we were meant to feel happy. It wasn't a satisfying end the way I'd always pictured it, because everyone always glorifies winning, don't they? In my mind we'd come out alive, and fine. And everything was 'fine', but it wasn't good. We were so broken, little pieces that – that would never have a whole picture again. I always wondered whether we'd be able to be normal again after that, I think we're doing okay."

"You are, Hermione. I didn't notice you were hurting still, you should've told me, I would've – we didn't have to focus on how slowly I'm healing," I spit out, wanting to cry at her bleeding words. "I'm sorry for pressing the matter, I just wanted some way to relate to you, to feel as if I'm not alone."

"I'm really alright, Draco. I haven't had a solid sit down to contemplate it in so long. It's just flooding back a bit now. Trust me. It still hurts, of course it does." She's speaking more evenly now, but I'm not fooled, her chest beating faster than normal. "I felt so guilty changing my parents memory, and being unable to keep it together when I know these deaths must have hit everyone else harder. Harry, Ron and Ginny, even George, managed to be strong enough to make Molly and Arthur begin to feel alright losing their son, and we a friend, brother. Harry saw Lupin with the Resurrection Stone so he was able to get some closure, Teddy has people who love him. I was happy eventually, realizing these things. That we would survive. The magnitude of the finality of everything set in, but it took a few hard weeks. A few good cries…" she admits, with a strangled chuckle.

I stroke her dripping back, trying to calm her. "You seem so strong to me, I hadn't realized that you'd experience such pain still…but you care so much about everyone, obviously you would."

"Like you said, everyone is suffering," she breathes.

"Yes, but you have so much love to give, I don't think it's on the same level as 'everyone'. I know I was shocked when Crabbe died, but we never were attached in a way that would've made me want to lament about it, especially when he was turning so horrible right before my eyes." I confess, not having revealed that to anybody before. "You know, you can talk to me about anything. I'm going to keep it to myself, I won't judge you. Even if you cry halfway in or don't want to explain it. I think we say that every time we have a serious talk."

"Definitely do. God, I didn't want to turn this into a weep fest," she sniffs, her body now steadier, wiping her eyes. "And you have just as much love, you just never realized it until now."

She leans back searching my eyes, giving me a watery grin.
"We always end up so serious, don't we? Always up and down. A part of getting to know each other, I guess," she says, happier now, trying to clear the tension. "I do feel so close to you afterwards, and I did say I wanted endless talks with whoever I ended up with."

Fuck, I love this girl. We always think the same things, yet she's so optimistic.

"What?" she inquires at my silly smirk. "What?"

"Hermione... Merlin, this sounded better in my head. But, I wish you were an oasis that I could dive in so deep. Because I'd stay there forever, and I would never sleep. If I drowned, I'd feel so happy; you are what I want, what I need. And if I experienced you if only for one single moment, I'd consider myself so lucky. But it hasn't been a moment, it's been almost 2 months. And I love you, probably too much, that it does my head in. Everything you show me I feel so intensely, when you're happy, I'm elated, and when you're sad I want to cry. We always end up on the same wavelength though, and I just – god, I never want to let you go."

I only catch her expression momentarily before she attacks me with her whole self, snogging me fiercely, and pushing me against the stone, jumping up so she can reach me better. She spreads her legs open over my hips, and in the water I can clutch under her knees because she's weightless to pull her up to me.

"I love you, Draco," she tells me. "I don`t have a beautiful way of putting it, but the way you make me feel…"
She grabs my hair, burning a hole through me with the look she gives me before kissing me again, splashing me as she grinds against me, and I'm helpless because I don't want her to move.
"You can take me from upset to being high spirited with a few sentences. And maybe it's because I've let out what I have kept in for so long, the way you have, but I know it's helping. I know we're healing."

"It's the same for me - fuck - Hermione," I moan as she jolts her hips to adjust her position.

I'm growing harder by the second, so passionate we've become. Now she nips my neck, grabbing every inch of me, scratching my back, even grabbing my arse.
She's rubbing herself on me, making me crazy: "I need you, now," I plead.

She glides down off me and rubs my cock from under the water, then commands me to sit on the edge again. I think she's about to join me but instead comes between my thighs, coyly staring at me with parted lips before she kitten licks my tip, sucking me quite quickly after the initial groan I release. Using her hands to pump my shaft along with her mouth, already I'm ready to come at the enthusiasm.

My grasp tightens on the rim of the tub, my breath shallow, thinking that I definitely am going to be sappy and vulnerable more often if this is the result.

"Hermione, please let me fuck you."

"Lie back," she whispers, her breath ghosting my soaked skin still, and I comply. I hear her emerging from the bubbles, and feel her drenching me with warm droplets before climbing over me and settling herself on me immediately. She's so tight from the bath, and as I push myself in, her mouth opens so wide in pleasure and slight discomfort. "Go slow this time."

So I do.
Agonizingly slow, almost.

Our gazes are locked the entire time, her full weight is on me, and our hands fused together.
We're making love this time.

{}

"You know, I think I have to thank Salazar more often for being a devious bastard."

Hermione giggles like she did when we entered the room leaving it, the wall closing back up, and us rushing back to the hallways, having spent far too much time in there.

Not that that's a complaint. After we had sex the second time, I wanted more. That fuck was almost 10 minutes, something I was afraid she couldn't handle but she did. Unfortunately she didn't get off, and since my desire was fueled by how fiery she was towards me, I had to make sure she was satisfied. I went down on her and finished the job, and then she reciprocated. And then we did it one more time for good measure.
We're so drunk right with the euphoria of that aftermath we can't stop looking like we're hiding something from the rest of the world.

"How is he so devious?" she questions, holding my arm as we descend to the Gryffindor floor.

"We need just a password to get in instead of a passing a portrait. That means any number of people can go in, can't they? Now we can go any time if nobody finds out," I wink and a light bulb pops in her brain.

"Wow, yeah. I can't believe that flew by me."

"Don't worry about it love, you haven't had the rule-breaking gene fully rubbed in to you. Next time though we should probably bring a watch."

"Agreed."

"And honestly, if you want to get anything off your chest, I will gladly take you there. Cheering you up is probably the best thing I've ever done," I proclaim and she shakes her head.

"I'm glad you find my sadness so – "

"And where the hell have you two been?!"

Hermione and I freeze in our tracks as one dark haired hero confronts us from the end of the staircase, his ginger girlfriend with a shamefaced expression.

"Didn't feel like watching the Quidditch match, Potter, what's so – "

"Oi, you shut up, Malfoy," he points, absolutely livid. "I wasn't talking to you. Hermione, why the bloody hell would you go gallivanting with him away from the rest of the student body? Everyone was talking about your absence, about how disrespectful it is not to support other teams when you constantly talk about how we should."

He's striding over to us, scrutinizing our appearance.

"Is your – " he halts momentarily, face shining with anger now, nostrils flaring and teeth gritted. "Why is your hair wet?"

Ginny is horrified, and I can tell by the way Hermione stiffens that she's trying not to be obvious about what just transpired. She touches her head self-consciously, aware that with how thick her strands are, only half is dry.

"I had a shower," she replies, as if Potter has asked a stupid question.

"Yes, but his is damp too," he growls at me, reaching us at full height.

"Potter, I had one too. You just got back, you can't accuse us of anything. For all you know we've just met up and have been strolling around, but you assume the worst."

"I'm not a fucking idiot!" he yells, making me flinch as his saliva hits my face. "Ginny told me you were together, but she didn't know where you were going because it was a 'surprise'."

Hermione glares at her supposed best friend, who looks like she'll sink to the floor.
"I'm so sorry," she squeaks, her palms against her cheeks.

"You two were in a bathroom, weren't you? A prefects one. How did you both manage to….no, I don't want to know. How would you feel if I told McGonagall you were abusing your privileges, huh, Malfoy? Surely this is against the rules!"

Oh, no.
Fuck no.

"Harry, please!" Hermione begs, tears threatening her again when we've only just settled them down an hour ago.

"No! You're acting reckless, don't you care about your reputation?"

"I don't if people don't care about respecting my choices or privacy!" she bites back. "You included. I'm actually happy, and you refuse to acknowledge it as the truth because you don't want me with him."

"Of course I don't! He's hurt you in the past, he'll do it again. He's capable of it, and now you're in too deep to realize that."

"Harry, just listen to her for once," Ginny cuts in as she comes closer, trying to hold his hand but he shakes it away, almost disgusted.

"Why!? I'm trying to do what's best, I'm – "

"No you're not! You're doing what you want to do, you're trying to make everything 'perfect' again like it was before last year but you can't force anything, you are just going to ruin it further by– "

"WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT LAST YEAR, GINNY?"
Potter explodes, falling apart at the seams as I've never seen him do, and we're all silent. Ginny looks braver instead of weepy, like she probably should.
"I'm sorry – I – that was out of line, I – "

He's flustered, but she backs away from his apologies, folding her arms so he can't access her. And now he looks like the cross-hair is on him, and for the first time in my entire existence I find myself feeling sorry for the idiot. Genuinely thinking that he must be having a rougher year than I ever imagined, just like Hermione. It's been a tough thing to mend, these scars and open wounds.

"It was out of line," Ginny repeats icily, in a scary low tone. "And you know I'm right, or you wouldn't get so worked up over it. You want it to be like it was before everything changed, before last year. But she's already moved on. Accepting that Hermione loves somebody in Slytherin, and somebody you don't like, is something you'll have to do if you want to keep her close. You scold Ron, but at the end of the day you're just as bad as him."

"Why are you talking about me, Ginny?"

Oh, good grief.

Weasel rounds the corner alongside Lavender, Parvati and Finnigan, who sense the severity of the situation immediately. His expression goes from confusion to surprise and anger, the newcomers giving us the appraisal, stopping short when they notice the stance Potter has adopted.

"I was merely saying, big brother, that like you, Harry needs to accept that Hermione is old enough to make her own decisions without you two butting in because you don't like it."

"Love?" Potter repeats, staring directly at Hermione, who recoils slightly, stepping back an inch.

"And the fact that he's a complete arse with a track record is something we should ignore? What friends would we be then?" Weasley counters.

"LOVE?" Potter repeats with more inflection.

"What are you on about, Harry?" Weasley asks with concern.

"Ginny just said that Hermione is in love. With that," he laughs disbelievingly at me.
I've had enough.

"If you two were real friends, and trust me I've finally learnt the meaning, you'd give me the benefit of the doubt until I fucked up. And then kicked me to the curb if I did. But since I won't fuck up, and since you don't understand that I have so much to lose if I lose her, and I know it, I'm not afraid to tell you so." My voice isn't strong when I find it.

"Ha! Friendship? You? That's rich, coming from a Malfoy. Manipulation is your middle name, I saw you use your words at my house, and even I fell for it for a second. But love? No, that's something totally foreign to you, outside of dear mummy coming to save the day. You could never – won't ever – "

"I am in love with her, Weasley," I hiss, my temper rising the more he insults me. "First time I've ever loved someone in my life, and understood what it meant.'

"What?"
His expression has descended to one of a person slapped across the face.
"Do you love him, Hermione?"

She hesitates for a mere second, catching my eye before nodding slowly. And the broken look on Weasley's face mixed with the gasps from the other Gryffindor's is enough to send Potter into a fit of rage again.

"How can you love him? He's vile! All you do is reads books in the library and apparently shag in bathrooms!" he blurts out stupidly, causing Weasel to lose all restraint, his face becoming white. The others are stunned at this information. Lavender takes the opportunity to clutch his fingers and drag him away from the ruckus, clearly enjoying real turmoil between real friends.

"You don't know anything about us," Hermione utters firmly, carefully. "You haven't bothered, not with me. Draco's offered to sit with us, sit with you, anything, but you won't do it. He apologized and showed you his life, and you don't bloody well care! You barely talk to me anymore, like everyone else. You said you'd try, and you haven't at all," her voice weakens at the end, choking on her words.

"Well how can I? You were supposed to be dating Ron! I thought you were head over heels! Madly in love, and he made a mistake. He was over the top to you, I know it. I know I'm at fault for staying at the Burrow, I should've came to see you, but I was on your side up until you decided to throw everything in his face! Dating Dean near Ron's birthday, and then bringing this idiot to his own house? Getting in the Prophet, what are you thinking? How could you be so irresponsible!?'

"Me, irresponsible!?" she huffs, throwing her hands up in sheer frustration. "Like this is all my fault!?"

"That was my idea! To bring him to our house to apologise! Come on, Harry!" Ginny scolds.

"I didn't want it to end how it did, but it did! And you both did nothing when I reached out to mend it. It's Ron's own damn fault he was too scared to fix this, and I'm much happier now with Draco. The Prophet was the worst thing that happened to us in this relationship, and you know it! Stop yelling at me for things out of my control!"

"HOW CAN YOU BE HAPPY WITH A DEATH EATER WHO TRIED TO KILL PEOPLE? WHO HATED YOUR VERY EXISTENCE UP UNTIL NOW! HOW?"

Bile rises to my throats, and I know my lips are trembling to stop myself from breaking down right now.

"STOP IT, Harry! I've told you, he's not the same person. We've all changed, we've all grown up. Forgive, but don't forget. I love Draco. I. Love. Him." She walks over to me, trying to hush me but it's not working. I can't feel her touch me, I'm trying to stop my mind.

"Why, though? What does he do that we can't? He doesn't care about elf rights, he doesn't care about equality. He couldn't give a shit about things that are important to you. Does he fuck you really nicely? Are his piano skills so seductive? WHAT IS IT?" Potter is deranged, he really does loathe me.
Like everybody else, I'm thinking.

No, no, no, not again, not again.

"Stop speaking to me like I'm a child," Hermione cries, and now she's copying my motions, and momentarily my anxiety is paused when I see how distressed she is. It's replaced by something worse. More lethal.

"Then stop acting like –"

"Potter!" I bark, lashing out at him. "BE QUIET!"

His face snaps towards me, and he starts to get much closer, Seamus and Parvati passing knowing looks before sprinting off for help, no doubt.

"Have something to say, Malfoy?"
He shoves me backwards with brute force I was unprepared for, and I trip backwards onto the steps. But I barely register it, getting up immediately.

"Harry!"

"Yeah, I do! I won't let you treat Hermione like she's nothing, like her opinion is invalid, when you know very well she's not stupid. You were supportive of this whole partnership until she started to like me, and now who's the one whose causing harm, huh? Still thinks it's me? From where I'm standing I'm the saint, and you're the sinner this time. You've made her cry! I've done nothing at all this year, and I fucking get it, okay. I get that you hate me, I get your reservations, but I'm damn well trying here to stop my bad behaviour and you won't let me. You know you can make or destroy me, and you hold it over my head. You refuse to see that she's okay, that I'm better now."

He's struggling for words, too stubborn the way I would be in his shoes.

"This goes deeper than her dating me, I understand it. I understand you, Potter. For once in my life, and I think it scares you. You want to protect Hermione because you feel guilty you didn't in the summer. You're still recovering from the war, I am too, and you're frustrated you still get triggered by it; angry or sad." Something registers in his face, but he shakes it away. "You don't want me to be human, but I'm not a villain. I'm not bullying people anymore. And maybe I'm a coward but I'll admit it, level with you. You just want something to hate. So please. Don't hate me anymore."

He spins round, from Ginny, to Hermione, back to me, scanning them. Still stone-faced.
And I've lost.

"Harry, you need to end this," Ginny whispers, in the phrase an ultimatum I don't think he recognizes.

"Malfoy," he takes a deep breath before tearing me apart. "You will never be anything in my eyes except pureblooded scum. Your father almost had us all killed, your Aunt killed the only family I had left, even you had us all at risk numerous times. Even if you've reformed somewhat, I don't think I can accept it as good enough...no, I can't. You're a bloody coward who will forever bear his mistakes on your physical form, the dark mark is a punishment well deserved, because that was your catalyst. If you never had it, you wouldn't be like you are now, wouldn't have realized your mistakes. And now I still find you barely tolerable."

"Harry, enough," Hermione commands, blocking him from my view now. "You haven't spent any time with him to make that judgement."

"No, I'm not done."

"Harry, look at him," Ginny states, and I realize I'm shaking all over, too focused to let the feeling seep in.

"I am. And all I see is a stupid boy who expects sympathy for doing absolutely nothing. For somebody who only did things for the benefit of himself and one time his mother. At the risk of others souls. Are you even sorry, Malfoy? For poisoning Ron, for cursing Katie Bell? Or did you only cry in that lavatory with Moaning Myrtle because you didn't want to get caught?"

Clouds, or smoke, I don't know which, are washing over me, blurring my vision as he's still relentless.

"Harry, stop it! Stop it!"
The girl I love is hysterical, and the last thing I can really see is McGonagall marching into view.

"You're pathetic, Malfoy! You are the biggest loser I've ever met, even more than your dad, Lucius, who is the laughing stock of wizards everywhere now and – get off, Hermione!"
Vaguely, I'm aware of the smack of skin, but I can only hear now, my eyes closed.
"You wouldn't know what right is, what a moral is, if it punched you in the face. Just because you grasp basic concepts of love this year doesn't mean a damn thing. You stood by while your supposed girlfriend was tortured, and only saved us last year out of fear right before trying to curse us an hour later. Sacrifice is a word foreign to you; you don't care about anybody but yourself, you use everyone around you and you will not take people important to me from my life. You are not going to corrupt Hermione because she's too great of a person to give you a chance."

My ragged body hits the floor, I'm unable to hold it up. Salt is what I taste, sobs are wracking my frame, as someone nondescript puts their hands on me, and somebody else shouting hits my ears.
One last time I force my lids open, to see the Ginny and my lovely lady berating him. Potter looks lost as our headmaster has appeared and joins in the assault. A flash of white hair and blue tie leaning over me, then I'm closing them again.
All these statements cut so deep, because they feel so true and now they're seeping back into my mind, oh my mind's a mess.

How did it come to this?

That's the last thing I think before everything fades to black.