A/N: Finally!!! I am in self reproach for my delay. This chapter has been plaguing me since my last post, but here it is.

Please note that the rating is defintely stepping up to the plate in this chappie. That was my dilemma...do I, don't I, but I did...finally. :p

Moments ago:

"What are you doing?" she asked carefully.

"I'm upholding your end of the bargain," he growled before he pulled her down onto the bed so that she was next to him, leant over her so that she fell onto her back, and kissed her.

__________________________________________

Hermione's lips burned at the contact, her senses overwhelmed by the Head Boy's attention to her mouth, his lips moulded against hers with an unfounded urgency. She couldn't help but respond to his unquestionably absolute attention as his hand released its grip from her arm, that he had held down against the bed, and traced along her waist up over her material clad breasts where they remained. Her instinctive moan egged him further, as his tongue laced around hers possessively while he moved over her, his knee between her legs, slightly bent to support his weight.

Hermione was startled by the hardness of his body against hers, her hands immediately coming up to grip his shoulders as she squirmed slightly under him, trying to adjust to the feel of the new experience. After all, it was the first time she found herself laying flat on a bed with a guy over her, in the bedroom of one unpredictable Slytherin at that.

He groaned into her mouth, breaking away and eyeing her steadily, his breath short. She could taste the sweetness of the pepper up potion he had taken on her lips. She licked them, looking back at his darkened eyes nervously. What on earth was he thinking? Why did she even care?

"You smell nice," he murmured before moving off her, lying flat on his back next to her. She lay silent, not daring to move, her chest heaving slightly from their heated session. The state of her hair could only be imagined. She could still feel the lingering presence of him on her.

Minutes past.

Gathering the courage, she turned her head slightly to catch a glimpse of Malfoy's profile in her periphery. His trademark hair was dishevelled, his eyes closed, his nose perfectly straight his lips slightly parted and swollen. She inhaled at the sight.

"Uhm, Malfoy?" she spoke out timidly. She turned her head fully to face him, awaiting a response.

The prat had fallen asleep.

Sighing, Hermione turned on her side. He knew how to keep her on edge and yet, she felt strangely comfortable in his presence. She closed her eyes, telling herself that it would be for a moment before she went back to her room.

She fell asleep almost immediately, lying next to the insufferable Malfoy.

It was the sudden change in room temperature that caused Hermione stir. She could sense a light in the distance, shifting position to block it out. Gradually, a realisation that she wasn't in her bedroom came to fruition. She was fully clothed, and had been sleeping on top of the covers of the bed, as comfortable as they were.

Hermione opened her eyes, squinting in the direction of the light source creeping through the door crack. She could make out the green and silver house paraphernalia on the wall. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes, and ran her hand over her now rather crazy mane as she looked around her. How had she ended up in the middle of the bed she had no idea.

The door suddenly opened, and there was no denying the ethereal appeal of one Head boy as the light source behind him was almost blinding. It didn't help that he was clad in only a towel. He caught her gaze, freezing momentarily before stepping into the bedroom.

"I thought you were asleep," was all he said, in a tone he rarely exhibited in her company. It was, well, neutral and completely civil. Hermione felt her cheeks heat up to a scorching level. She had never been more thankful that she was surrounded by darkness on her end as she debated her response. Of course, she would never admit that she had come to notice his absence and woken up.

"I was, but I think I should go back to my room," she replied, moving to the edge of the bed. He nodded, and walked to his closet, opening the doors. How he could see what he was looking for, she had no idea. Instead, she sat staring at his back, the light catching the movement of his shoulders. Despite its ordinariness, seeing Malfoy so bare, fishing around for something to wear, was startlingly intimate.

He pulled back, holding a t-shirt and what looked like a pair of boxers.

Hermione blushed yet again, as it dawned on her that he was actually naked save for the towel. "I thought you were leaving," he stirred; she could hear it in his tone and just knew that he was smirking.

"I am," she insisted, standing up but not moving to exit. She suddenly wanted to stay in his room, even though it wasn't something she should have allowed herself to feel, she wished she had been more bold in her contractual requests, as he had. He was the only one who could really demand her company, not that it wasn't strange enough. "Right, well..." she turned and walked to the door.

"Granger, don't rush yourself, if I recall correctly, last time you couldn't get out quicker."

"Last time I didn't have my wand," she teased.

His chuckle broke the silence. "Touché," he quipped.

Hermione snapped her mouth shut, realising she had just flirted with Malfoy. Well, she had done much worse, but this was voluntary without the overpowering physiological reaction of a potion.

Speaking of which, she was feeling unusually at ease, almost like a weight had been lifted, or a subconscious burden appeased. More worriedly, she had never spent this much time with Malfoy. Not before, not after the now historical potion exchange, not ever.

Period.

Hermione frowned, wondering if Malfoy was onto something. Contact certainly had helped.

"You can stay, Granger. You've already messed up my bed sheets." He walked into the bathroom again, shutting the door behind him. Of course, he had to qualify his niceties with a disparaging statement.

Hermione fidgeted, knowing deep down that a part of her wanted to stay, yet her rational, Gryffindor self knew that if she did, it would go against every thread of common sense and tenet she possessed and had spent the last six years following without challenge.

The door opened again, Malfoy walked out in his t-shit and boxers, his hair dry, his demeanour unchanged. It was as if he had known she was still there. He looked at her as though she was an expected room fixture before walking over to his bed, pulling the covers back and crawling under without further comment.

It was entirely in her hands.

Hermione let out a breath. She had already slept in his bed, what difference would it make now? She slipped off her shoes, took off the bulk of her clothes, leaving her in a t-shirt and her underpants. He had seen her in much less, and her jeans weren't exactly sleeping attire.

She walked over to the other side of the bed, pulled the covers back enough to slip under, and secured them tightly around her. Her drowsiness returned as her head hit the softness of the pillow. She turned on her side, her back facing his.

It was a night for many firsts.

That was the last thought Hermione had before drifting into sleep.

Morning light trickled through the windows that had been shielded by curtains. Hermione could feel a tickling sensation on her neck. She blindly lifted a hand trying to shrug it off, only to hit Malfoy in the face. He had been breathing onto her neck.

His muffled dissatisfaction woke her up as she heard him groan in pain. He moved away, turning and bringing his hand up to soothe his nose.

"Why'd you do that for?" he grumbled sleepily. She turned her head to see Malfoy lying on his back, his face scrunched up in pain.

"Sorry," she mumbled, her voice drowsy. "Thought there was something on me," she offered lamely, only to realise afterward how that sounded.

"Yeah? Well, this is my bed Granger," he retorted, his voice muffled behind his hands. As if she had hit him that hard?

"Malfoy, I hardly touched you, don't be so vain, your perfect face will live to see another day of admiration," she dismissed, sitting up, grabbing her hair and shifting it to one side.

He was silent next to her, still lying flat.

"You think my face is perfect?" he asked suddenly with interest, his hands coming away from his face.

She groaned out loud, rolling her eyes.

"I was being sarcastic," she corrected, her tone reluctant. It was too early for this.

"A half truth then?" She turned to see him smirking up at her. She could only glare in response.

"Hardly, but it's obvious that the only way to shut a Malfoy up is with a compliment. A miracle cure, it seems."

"Funny, Granger. Too bad I can't return the favour. You're looking mighty frightening with that hair of yours," he observed.

"Thanks for stating the obvious," she replied with a bored tone. She really needed to get out, but she was in her underwear, and her jeans were out of reach.

"Malfoy, get up and pass me my jeans," she snapped turning to look at him. The look on his face was priceless.

"I don't take orders from the likes of you! Get them yourself!" he bit back, resting his hands behind his head, an attempt to re-affirm his superiority.

"So you take orders from someone then? Parkinson? Your father?" She couldn't help herself. His eyes narrowed. She had gone a little too far with that one.

"Play time is over, Granger. Get out."

"You asked for it Malfoy. I get it, I'm not a pureblood. But you know what? I wouldn't want to be."

She pulled the covers to one side with enough force so that they fell onto Malfoy so he wouldn't see her stand up in her minimal clothing as she quickly walked over to her stuff, grabbed it, and walked out, not bothering to shut his door.

It was like the walk of shame, as she made her way across the common room half dressed, carrying her remaining clothing in her arms, over to her door.

"Granger," she heard him call from his doorway but ignored him as she reached her end of the room.

"Granger!" he thundered.

"What?" she yelled back, as she walked into her room, throwing the pile onto the floor. She needed a shower.

"Usually, when someone acknowledges another who's seeking their attention, they stop and look at that person." She turned to see Malfoy standing in her doorway.

"Yeah, well, there are exceptions to every rule," she snapped. The one thing she wanted to avoid was Malfoy seeing her in her knickers and t-shirt. That objective had gone out the window as she stood there, letting him look back at her in a most vulnerable state. "What do you want Malfoy?"

"You have a bad habit of walking out on people before they can explain themselves. You're blinded by your own presumptions and prejudices, so don't go preaching to me without letting me defend myself."

Hermione sighed loudly. "Go ahead Malfoy, tell me your troubles," she mocked.

"Fuck, Granger, you are insufferable!" he bellowed, his face angry.

"I am just a little preoccupied with other more pressing matters," she retorted.

"What? If I recall correctly, there was your striptease incident, and the fact that I fingered you in a classroom amongst other things. So, your sudden wish to be discreet about your state of dress is a joke."

Hermione could feel her face redden to the roots of her hair and her stomach flip as she stared back in outrage at the smirking, dirty talking, Head Boy.

"Now that we've got that sorted, I wasn't making a reference to your blood status, Granger," he stated frankly, in total disregard of his previous comment and its affect on her.

She gulped. "What does it matter? It's not like that rules out the other six years of your snide comments," she replied tersely, still trying to calm her heart rate.

"It matters," he started walking towards her, "...because," his towering form closing in on her, "...things are different now." At that, his hands came up to cup her face as he brought his lips down on hers, letting them linger softly, as if to test her response, before bringing them down hard. Hermione let herself react, that familiar magnetism building again at the contact, marking her defeat. Her hands came around his neck, as she reached up to accommodate their height difference.

The point where they went from standing to him lying over her on her bed was completely blurred as his hand made its way under her t-shirt, over her bare stomach, up to her bare breasts. She moaned against him, her body reacting to his exploring hands. She let her own hands roam over his body as she brought them to the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up, exposing his athletic chest. He pulled back letting her sit up slightly to lift his t-shirt over his head. He did the same to her, smirking knowingly as she exposed her skin to him.

"If you want this to continue, you better stop that," she warned.

"You're easily swayed, Granger, it just takes a bit of practice to break you," and with that he pushed her back on to the bed and let his mouth roam over her bare skin as he kissed his way down to her stomach, to the waistband of her boy short knickers. Hermione's senses were out of control as she reacted to his every touch. He tugged at the waistband, sliding them down slightly. She stopped him.

"Malfoy, I've not done this before," she managed to say, albeit timidly.

A moment of silence passed between them.

"Do you want to?" he replied, paying attention to her lower abdomen.

Well, that all depended on which Hermione he was asking? She was riddled with conflicting variations of herself. But, her unequivocally dominating self whispered, "Yeah." He didn't hear her, but looked up to see her nod back at him. His eyes blackened in response as he came over her once more to kiss her.

She could feel his hardness against her hip. It was slightly startling, knowing that he was responding to her. Her insides squirmed as she ran her hands up his arms, admiring the contours of his physique. His kisses were purposeful, full of verve and urgency. Her tongue circled with his, the contact of skin against skin making the experience undeniably more intense. Malfoy moved down to her neck, nipping and sucking in that spot that had become familiar to them in their countless battles of provocation.

This time she marvelled at the contact, letting her mental hindrances collapse into oblivion as her body reacted in the way only he had caused once before.

Too pre-occupied with what Malfoy was doing, she had not even noticed that he was now completely naked, leaving her knickers as the only cloth between them. It was suddenly felonious to be wearing them in the heat of the circumstances, especially since they evidenced her physical response.

With newfound confidence, Hermione brought her hand down towards Malfoy's arousal. She brushed over him, and he groaned against her skin as he concentrated on her own aroused peaks. He brought his hand down and pushed her away before pulling her final article of clothing down. She shifted to aid in the removal.

"Don't move," he let out, strain apparent in his voice. Hermione stilled, naive to the effect of her movement under him. He re-adjusted himself, pushing her legs wider with his knee as he brought his hand down, and slipped his finger into her folds. She whimpered at the contact, excitement building and nervousness washing over her at once.

"What did I tell you last time?" his asked, his voice husky and deep against her hear.

"To relax," she whispered. She breathed out to signal her acquiescence as she felt him slowly drive his fingers into her, drawing them out at the same pace as if to prepare her. She exhaled slowly, trying to relax further as he worked on her. She could feel herself let go of any hesitation, as that familiar pressure began to build. He pulled out, rubbing over her most sensitive spot. She couldn't help but moan. She just wanted him to keep going. She shut her eyes at the loss of contact as she felt him shift.

His arousal was now against her inner thigh.

"Bend your knees slightly." She obliged automatically as he rested between her legs, and she could feel the tip of him against her opening. He brought his mouth to hers, she willing granted him access, focusing on his kiss and the movements of his tongue against hers as he slowly moved into her.

It was like nothing she had ever felt. She whimpered into his mouth, unable to focus on the kiss as a pain washed over her and she held onto his shoulders with a sudden vice like grip. There was nothing sensual about it as she clenched up in reaction. Malfoy groaned against her, "Granger, please relax, you're not making it easy for me," he let out but remained still for her to adjust to the feel of him inside her.

Gradually he began to move again, pushing into her fully, hitting her in places she never thought could be touched. "You okay?" he asked lifting his head to look at her. She opened her eyes and nodded. He smiled slightly, rubbing her arm gently. His caring demeanour was enough to ease her hesitation and she felt him slowly withdraw before pushing back in just as slowly. Concentrating on the rhythm he was setting, she could feel herself beginning to react to the sensations he was causing, that pressure beginning to build within her once more as her senses responded to his thrusts. She slowly began to move with him, heightening the feel of him within her as he began to pick up the pace, kissing her every now and then on her neck, her lips, as he brought hands up over her breasts, eliciting moans from her as the paramount feeling was heightened by his other actions.

She was now moving with him, matching his thrusts as the friction of their bodies made their hearts race and breaths short. His hair fell over her face as he pulled back from his kisses and they concentrated on their movements. Her mind became hazy as she could only focus on the pull building within her, a need to set it loose taking over. Her desire was unparalleled as it culminated and consumed her senses. She was so close, she could feel her body begin to shake, her insides clawing for release. She heard him groan as he pushed into her, and brought his hand down to tease her sensory nub once more. The effect was a whirlwind of earth shattering collapse, as she moaned her release and felt her muscles clench around him, this time involuntarily.

Her reaction was shortly followed by his pulsing release, as his visceral grunt filled the room and his breaths became laboured as he continued to blindly move within her, all rhythm lost, surrending to his selfish needs before he finally eased out and fell onto his back next to her.

Hermione was at a loss for words. The shift from pain to pleasure was so extreme, she was almost fearful of the experience, as she aimed her efforts at calming her racing heart.

Once again, she found herself lying still next to the Head Boy, both naked and sated from their most intimate exchange. She brought her hand down to her now sensitive area. She could feel the air cooling the moisture but she could also sense the presence of something else.

Blood.

It only reaffirmed what had transpired. She stared blankly at the ceiling, wondering how she would feel about it all when full realisation came to fruition.

She could feel his eyes on her and turned her head slightly. His stare was so intense she could not keep her gaze. She looked away, turning on her side away from him.

"I should go," he mumbled.

A moment passed without movement or further comment.

"You can stay. You've already messed up my bed sheets."

A/N: OK I really need to know your thoughts on this, did I take the right/expected course of action? I wasn't sure if they should have gone this far, but it was inevitable, I think. I was just scared to finally make them have that connection.

Oh, and the aftermath, how will it be dealt with and what are the repurcussions? We shall see... hmmmm :p