"NO, Ron, stop!" Hermione Granger screamed, turning away the redheaded man trying to get her to calm down as she fought he way towards the door of their flat.

"Mione, please, you're overreacting…" Ron tried to get out, but was cut off.

"Overreacting?" Hermione finally turned towards him. "I walk home to you fucking another witch on our bloody kitchen table, and you have the gall to tell me I'm overreacting?!" She was almost hysteric.

After the Final Battle, where Harry defeated Voldemort once and for all, Hermione and Ron decided to actually test out the dormant feelings that led to their passionate kiss after collecting the Basilisk fangs. Ron was incredibly supportive of Hermione's decision to go back to Hogwarts to finish her NEWTs, taking the time to try out a professional Quidditch career for a year before starting Auror training, having been offered a position with the Chudley Cannons. While they had little time to see each other over that year, they communicated constantly, and Ron really made an effort to see her whenever he had a free weekend. She, in turn, tried to get off campus for as many nearby games as she could.

After she graduated, the two of them moved into a small flat in London, where he began in the Auror department and she began a job that no recent graduate would ever normally grab - a junior Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries.

Her job was incredibly rewarding, but demanding. While no one was allowed to know of the work she did, she needed to consult many people on small scale questions - potioneers, charms experts, healers, and Rune translators. She loved her work, even if the hours were crap and she would get home around midnight each weekday.

Ron, however, was not happy with the late nights his girlfriend would work. At least once every few weeks, he would try to convince her to quit her job, saying that his leftover money from his year playing Quidditch would be more than enough to support them along with his Auror salary. He would always get annoyed when Hermione refused, not seeing her desire to work as legitimate and long-lasting. He didn't like coming home to dinner already cooked, didn't like how her exhaustion precluded her intimacy.

He felt neglected in their relationship, and that, combined with his sense of self-importance from the war and his Quidditch career led him to take up another witch or two on the side.

Twice before now, Hermione had caught Ron in an uncompromising position with another witch. Twice before, Ron fell on his knees and begged Hermione not to leave him, clinging to her shoes and crying about how he needed her and he was a weak man. How she was his light in a dark world, and if she was around more he wouldn't feel driven to do such things.

Twice before, Hermione swallowed her pride and forgave Ron. She loved him, she really did. When she was sixteen, she thought they were soulmates and would end up together, living happily ever after. So twice, she accepted his apology and absolved him of his sins.

After the second time, things seemed to be going well. The Department had cut back her hours a bit, granted she worked at home some weekends, and so she was home at a reasonable hour most nights of the week. Her and Ron seemed to be getting along much better in the past two months than they had in a long time. He was right, she thought, that being able to have dinner together was important in a relationship. Though she didn't always have time to cook - work didn't let her out that early - it seemed that takeaway Chinese or Indian from the town square in their village worked well enough; it seemed that it was the thought that counted.

She was wrong.

All that time, those two months where everything seemed amazing, he was still seeing another witch on the side. A skinny, blonde woman named Skylar that he met on a Quidditch tournament in America. Weekends away with Harry were really Floo trips across the ocean. Hermione had never expected. Disgusted, she realized that he probably would've been able to get away with it for much longer, had she not been able to convince her boss to let her take a half day today.

A half day to celebrate Ron's birthday.

Instead, she arrived back to their flat to see his naked ass as he pounded into his blonde mistress, her hair draped over the kitchen table where they had been sharing such lovely meals the past couple months.

She froze them both, and threatened Skylar with every curse imaginable before unfreezing them, upon which Skylar Apparated out of the flat without putting any of her clothes back on. Ron just stood there, pants around his ankles, staring at Hermione with a look of shock, regret, and sadness on his face.

Which brought them to their current situation, with Ron trying to prevent Hermione from walking out of their flat.

"Hermione please! Just let me explain…"

"There's nothing to explain, Ronald! I forgave you TWICE for this. I thought we were past this. And yet you STILL go behind my back and betray our relationship! No. I'm done, I cannot do this anymore. We're over." Hermione turned again and placed her hand on the doorknob.

"Marry me!" Ron shouted.

Hermione turned, hand still on the doorknob, eyes narrowed into slits.

"Excuse me?"

"Marry me, Hermione. Please." Ron dug in his pockets, his pants now firmly where they should be instead of around his ankles, and pulled out a diamond ring. "I love you. I want to be with you forever. You complete me. I promise I'll stop sleeping around if you just say yes. Please say you'll marry me."

He had the audacity to actually look hopeful.

"Oh Ronald," Hermione began. "You must really be an idiot if you think I'd marry you now."

With that, she ripped the door open and stormed out, leaving Ron holding the ring in his hand.

Hermione shot back her third tequila shot in a row. The music in the club was loud, the bass line throbbing in her head as she stood alone at the bar. Normally, she didn't go out to clubs alone, or in general, but she felt the need for a change of pace. Besides, Ron would never expect to look for her in a Muggle club in the heart of London.

She at least had the logic to change into something that fit the atmosphere after she left their flat. She was wearing a short, silver dress that flared out mid-thigh, the straps falling slightly off her shoulder and the neckline showing more cleavage than she normally preferred to. She didn't care, though.

Tonight was about forgetting herself.

Asking the bartender for a fourth shot, she nailed it back and went out onto the dance floor by herself, wanting the music to take her away from her troubles. The beat swirled around her, mixing together with the dancing bodies already crowding the floor. Closing her eyes and letting the music fill her up until she was no longer empty, she spun around on the dance floor, oblivious to the world around her. She moved her body in time with the rhythm, letting the music carry her away.

She was listen this little world of hers when she noticed a pair of arms sliding around her waist, pulling her against the solid weight of a man's chest.

Hermione tensed, immediately thinking that Ron found her. Looking down at the arms encircling her, however, she noticed that they were paler than Ron's - who was always slightly tanned and freckled from playing in his recreational Quidditch league - and covered with blonde hair instead of the familiar red. Not thinking anymore of it, she allowed herself to be pulled flush against the mystery man, and let herself get lost in the sensation of him moving along with her.

"It's a shame you weren't a Slytherin, Granger, because silver suits you way more than gold," a familiar voice whispered directly in her ear.

Hermione spun around in the arms holding her and found herself looking up at the smirking face of Draco Malfoy.

"What are -" she was cut off by Draco tightening his grip on her back and pulling her closer to his body. "Malfoy, what are you doing?"

He chuckled, and his eyes sparkled down at her. "I'm dancing, what does it look like?"

"Yes, but at a Muggle nightclub?"

"Better dance music."

"The Malfoy I knew would never have shown his face in a Muggle nightclub," Hermione retorted, while still moving her hips along with his to the music.

Draco sighed. "It's been a few years, Granger. You never even knew everything about me at school, what makes you think I can't change where I like to spend my time?" He spun her back around so her back was to him, and pulled her back tightly against him.

Instinctively, Hermione found herself pushing back against him while they danced, and wound her fingers through his where he held onto her hips. "Well, it has been a while…I guess you're right."

"Speaking of the passing years," he started, spinning her around yet again and looping her arms around his neck. "Where is the redhead weasel you so readily attached yourself to despite our….interactions in sixth year?"

Hermione felt her eyes widen and her breath catch in her throat.

After witnessing Ron and Lavender's kiss following the first Quidditch match of the year, after Harry had helped calm her down, Hermione decided to go on rounds to clear her head a bit more. When she had reached an alcove on the fifth floor, she was surprised to fine Draco crying silently to himself. Fingering the small pack of Muggle disposable tissues in her pocket, she paused for a minute before placing them on the bench in front of his feet.

"They're like disposable handkerchiefs, much cleaner. You look like you could use them."

Draco, shocked at the sound of her voice, looked up at her and was ready to make a retort when he took in her red-rimmed eyes. He saw that she had been crying too. Giving him a short nod, Hermione left him alone in the alcove.

"Remember how we would talk for hours about everything? Not just Quidditch or playing jokes on people, but having real conversations? You could never have those with Weasley like you did with me." Draco was whispering in her ear, his hands running up and down her sides, and she felt her insides melt like butter.

He was right. After that first night they spent a lot of time meeting up in private and talking to each other. They could talk about anything - schoolwork, the War, their dreams if it all ended, ethical arguments. Not only was he surprisingly easy to talk to, but his ability to keep up with her was refreshing.

Nothing like talking to Ron.

"Remember the first time I kissed you? Does he kiss you like I do?" He whispered again, his lips inching closer to her ear. "I don't think he does."

She remembered the feeling of his lips against hers, and the sparks that erupted behind her eyelids as she moved closer, winding her arms around his neck just to feel as much as him as possible. His kiss felt like he was devouring her soul, and she his. She had no clue how much passion could be behind one kiss.

Nothing like kissing Ron.

Draco's voice dropped an octave as he whispered again, his lips pressed directly against her ear. "Do you remember the first time I touched you? Really touched you, my hands slowly sliding up your skirt…." He chuckled as he trailed off, and Hermione felt her heartbeat speed up.

She thought about sitting with him in the Room of Requirement, her lip caught between her teeth and her head thrown back as his fingers worked there way inside of her, touching her in just the right way to make her explode for the first time. She remembered his look of pleasure as she tightened around his fingers, and the burning eyes when he licked them clean - one of the most sensual images she had ever seen.

Ron never touched her like that.

"And remember when I finally took you, made you mine, in the same alcove on the fifth floor that you had found me in that night? You, screaming my name as you bounced up and down on my cock? Does he make you feel the way I do, does he bring you the same pleasure that I brought you?" He pulled her tighter against him, and she could feel the outline of his erection against her thigh.

As her mind cast her back to that day in the alcove, when she had given him her virginity and he had made her nerve endings catch fire, his cock buried completely inside her when she came, and remembering the beautiful, agonizing bliss on his face when he followed soon after, she choked out one word.

"No."

"And yet the second he said he wanted you, you cast me aside and ran into his arms."

She winced, remembering two months later when Ron had said he wanted to be with her, and the pain on Draco's face when she said that their meetings had to end. She thought she was making the right decision, but she always regretted the heartbreak written on Draco's face.

"Was he worth it, Granger? Knowing what I did to you, how I made you feel, the fire in your veins existing because of me. Was he worth it?" Draco hissed in her ear, flicking his tongue out a bit to lick the side of her neck. He squeezed her to him so tight she imagined she would have bruises the next day. "Did you think of me when you were in bed with him?"

She did. Ron was…Ron. He was sweet and silly but never lit the fire in her that Draco had. She thought of him often, feeling horrible afterwards. But Ron was never enough on his own.

"So again, Granger. Where is he?"

She looked up into his eyes, so intense they seemed to be boring holes into her where she stood. Eyes that had lit up when he argued, and clouded over with lust even when he was just watching her study. Eyes she couldn't lie to.

"He's gone."

Growling, Draco threaded his hands in her hair and crushed his lips to hers. Her hands went up around his neck, pulling him to her, desperate to increase their contact. She could feel his hardness pressing against her stomach, and it only encouraged her further. One of Draco's hands slipped from her hair and made it to the small of her back, pressing himself further against her, holding her in place as he traced fire into her back.

Hermione moaned, and Draco took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, battling her tongue with an ease that belied the amount of time it had been since the last time he had kissed her. He held onto her as if she was his lifeline, and he was not going to let her go as easily as he did before.

Hermione was seeing stars behind her closed eyelids. She had forgotten how intoxicating it was to be with Draco; how his touch and his kiss and his everything made her feel so alive, how it lit up all of her nerve endings like fireworks on Guy Fawkes day. His smell absorbed her senses, and his touch captured her attention as if no one else was in the crowded club. The world narrowed down to be just her and Draco - his hand in his hair and on her back, slowly moving toward her breast, his tongue in her mouth and kissing her as if his life depended on it.

"Draco-" she gasped, managing to pull away for a second as his mouth travelled to her neck. "We need…to leave…." Her head rolled back as he bit down on the junction between her neck and shoulder. A small moan escaped her lips as he licked over the bite mark.

"Follow me," he managed to get out, pulling himself away from Hermione and dragging her toward the exit of the club. He held onto her hand and pulled her into an alleyway next to the club, pressing her against the wall and kissing her hard, then pulling his arms around her and apparating her to a modestly sized, but beautifully decorated bedroom.

Not that Hermione really noticed.

The second they appeared in the bedroom, Draco pushed her onto the bed and pinned her arms above her head, licking her skin from right below her ear to where her dress just barely covered her breasts. Casting a silent spell to hold her arms in place, he grabbed the top of her dress and tore it down her body, revealing two perfectly round breasts and a small green scrap of lace covering her below her waist.

"Silver dress and green knickers? Looks like you were just waiting for me to show up tonight, Granger," he smirked as he started to kiss between her breasts, turning his head to work his way up her left breast and capture a nipple in his mouth.

"Call…me…Hermione…" she managed to get out between gasps, as he switched from her right nipple to her left. His right hand rubbed patterns along her waist, as his left hand wandered down to the green thong, shoving it aside to rub at her clit.

A moan escaped Hermione's mouth. HIs fingers worked like…well, like magic. Every part of her was on fire. She kept bucking her hips to meet his hand, and almost cried when he finally slipped two fingers inside of her.

"FUCK," she almost shouted, feeling her walls clamp down around his fingers. His fingers reached that spot inside her that set her on fire from the inside out, and a bubble of pressure began to form just behind her navel. As his hand worked, the bubble filled more and more, and just as it felt like it would burst…

He pulled his fingers out.

Hermione propped herself up on her shoulders, looking at Draco indignantly as he pulled his fingers away, denying her the pleasure that was building up inside her body. Just as she was about to open her mouth to voice her displeasure, Draco cast a spell removing all of his clothing and shoved himself inside of her.

The fullness of his action almost made Hermione scream out loud, only no noise could escape her throat. Draco groaned so deep she could feel it vibrate through his chest, and buried his face in the crook of her neck, only a deep "Hermione" making its way into the air. His thrusts were hard and deep, bordering on frantic. She gripped onto his shoulders as if her life depending on it, digging her fingernails into his shoulders to urge him to go deeper.

"I've missed this," she thought. As Draco thrusted deep into her, touching parts of her that never felt satisfied outside of him, she realized that this is what she wanted. The passion, the drive, the pure feeling in this one incident with Draco completely outweighed her entire relationship with Ron; there was more emotion behind her and Draco's short encounter this evening than all of her and Ron's experience with each other.

And she couldn't turn back from that again. There was no way that she could turn her back on him a second time.

She began to see stars behind her eyelids as he thrust into her, and felt the bubble in her abdomen begin to swell again. She could feel him losing control, as his thrusts became more and more erratic and his breathing sped up. Gently - almost too gently compared to the rest of the situation - he rested his lips against her shoulder and started murmuring words she couldn't understand. Soon, though, the words were wiped from her mind as the bubble of pressure inside of her exploded.

It was as if all the colors in the world previously were muted, and finally were turned up to their full vibrancy. All of her nerves were alive, and the most delicious feeling rolled through her body in waves, crashing down on Draco still inside her, Seconds later, she registered him finally reaching his own release, feeling him pulse inside of her as he grunted his pleasure.

Minutes later, as she began to come down from her own high, she realized Draco was still whispering into her shoulder.

"Please don't leave again please don't leave again I love you please don't leave again."

Slowly, she reached her hand to settle gently in his hair, and brought his face to hers to kiss his nose gently. She then pushed his head onto her chest, cradling him as if he was a child.

"I won't leave again."

She felt Draco's intake of breath close to her skin, and the two laid there in silence, slowly drifting off to sleep.

"Mione! Hermione open up!"

A sudden banging on the door roused both Draco and Hermione from a deep sleep. Her back was pressed to his chest, and his arm was draped casually around her waist. He sat up first, and noticed the look of panic in her eyes.

"Hermione, I know you're in there!"

"Tell me, Granger, why exactly did you run from Weasel last night?" Draco asked, seeing her eyes look down nervously.

"I walked in on him cheating on me, and then he tried to propose when I kicked his mistress out…" she said in a voice so quiet he almost didn't hear her.

Interesting. "Well, then he should be dealt with accordingly," he said, moving from the bed and wrapping a bedsheet around his waist.

"Draco…" she began to sit up, the sheet dropping just enough to expose one of her breasts. "What are you going to do?"

"Love, don't worry about me, or him. He won't bother you again," he smirked at her blush when he called her "love". Draco walked over to the door and placed his hand on the knob. "I'm just giving him what he deserves for throwing you out like that."

"HERMIONE, I'm coming…"

As Ron turned the doorknob, Draco ripped the door open and the redhead stumbled through the entry, coming face-to-chest with the mostly naked man.

"Ah, Weasley. May I ask why you are interrupting my morning? It was perfectly pleasant up until this point."

Ron paled. "I was…looking for Hermione…I must have the wrong room…"

"Ronald, why are you here?" A feminine voiced called from the room, and soon Ron's eyes widened as Hermione, wrapped in a bedsheet, walked up behind Draco and placed a hand on his shoulder.

If possible, Ron's face grew paler, before his eyes narrowed and his cheeks grew red with anger. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE WITH HIM?"

"I don't think what I do with my girlfriend is any of your business," Draco responded cooly.

"YOUR girlfriend? She's my goddamn fiancée, Malfoy what the hell did you DO to her…"

"Fiancée?" Hermione scoffed. "I walk into our home and see you balls deep in another woman and you expect me to marry you?" A laugh followed this statement. "I'd rather marry Voldemort. You think that you can just waltz in here and say you love me after months of seeing otherwise?"

"I…"

"Weasley, I suggest you leave now and stop causing my girlfriend distress. We've had a long night and she needs to sleep."

"Hermione, this is ridiculous, he's just going to use you. I'll treat you right, he won't!" Ron screamed, his face almost purple.

"Well he hasn't cheated on me, so there's one point for him. Thanks for the update, though. If he does use me, at least I'll know in advance, instead of being blindsided by him. Like I was by you. Now get out." Hermione jutted her chin in defiance, staring the redhead down. After a few minutes, Ron inhaled deeply, clearly angry, and turned to leave.

"Oh and by the way Ron, I set up a camera in the kitchen, and sent the photos of you cheating on me to your mother. So there's no way you can run to her saying this is my fault and not yours. Good luck. Bye now!" Hermione turned on her heel and walked out of view, leaving Ron looking stunned in the doorway.

Draco turned to him and sneered. "I'd appreciate it if you left my girlfriend alone, Weasel."

Ron seethed. "You'll pay for stealing her from me, Malfoy."

"Stealing her? You pushed her away yourself. I just get to reap the reward of your absolute stupidity. Now, please leave before I have to call security." Draco gave him a minute, and then slammed the door in his face.

He turned to face Hermione, who was back on the bed and looking at him happily. "Now, my love, where were we," he said, jumping back on top of her and covering her mouth with his own.

Three weeks later, an edition of the Daily Prophet reached the Weasley stoop. Ron was the one opening the door, and set it on fire before anyone else could get the chance to read it.

There, on the front page, were Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, arm in arm, with a diamond ring glinting from her left hand.