A/N: I'm terrible, I know. In my defense, I had a nasty cold that made me want to just lie down and be unconscious for an entire week, so going to work sucked. But I'm much better now, and my boyfriend's back to work, which means I should be able to get onto a weekly updating schedule with minimal interruptions. Also, I worked very hard on this chapter because I had trouble deciding where to draw the line between good ways to describe things and TMI. Hopefully I got it right, but feel free to comment on that in a review so I'll know for future scenes. Enjoy lovies!

Reviews:

SlytherinGurrl - If by "Dramione stuff" you mean what I think you mean, your wish has at least somewhat come true! This chappie is more tease than actual "stuff", but definitely Dramione. Enjoy!

Geezygeezy - Thank you so much! I started out that way, only reading the complete stories 'cause I thought my excitement waiting for the stories to update would nearly kill me, but I'm a voracious reader, and eventually I ran out of complete stories to read. So I know exactly what you mean, which is why I'm extremely flattered that you like my story so much. I love Draco's personality, too. He's extremely fun to write most times because he has a snarky response for everything that's just on the tip of his tongue.

viola1701e - That is so true! They really do act like they're in Kindergarten. Dramione is the only couple who I can easily imagine glaring at each other and arguing, "Am not!" "Are, too!" for hours, except more eloquently. Hermione tries so hard to be the mature one, but Draco keeps dragging her down to his level and she can't help it. It's one of many reasons why I find the pairing so fascinating.

ThornedHuntress - Thank you for reading! No worries, I was shocked at how much time I had let pass by without working on it, anyway, so it was time for me to get back to it. It's so funny how men are like that. I think my friend phrased it best when he said, "Males are inherently arbitrary. If you're around all the time, they'll complain that you don't have your own life. But the second that they need you for something (i.e. taking care of them or doing them a favor), they complain that you aren't around enough. You can't win, so just take those complaints with a grain of salt." That little bit of wisdom gave me the strength to tell my boyfriend, "No, I am not coming over tonight to watch TV with you again," so I could work on this and get in some video game time to myself. He did an awful lot of pouting over the phone, and I nearly gave in, but I eventually prevailed. He got over it, so we were both happy.

EgyptianQueen - Sorry about that. That's one reason I need a beta. I never know if I'm spending too much or too little time explaining something because I already understand it. I know there's a way to find a beta on here, but it feels too much like soliciting random strangers for me to be comfortable doing it. I guess I'll just have to continue with my twenty-odd revisions. Anywho, I know exactly what you mean about Draco, but I don't think it really is OOC; he thought she was literally going to die and he panicked, so when he finally felt like she wasn't, and he was the only thing preventing her stubbornness from risking her life again, he knew that he couldn't just yell at her and expect her to obey. He's an expert manipulator, so he knew he needed to calm her down and reason with her, even though he usually uses that talent to infuriate her. That's how I justify it. But I should also note that he isn't going to stay this sweet and nurturing. The part about the starving cat was more of a foreshadowing than anything else, as you'll see in the coming chappies. Lastly, you should totally write a story! Fluffy is good. Also, I think that last part of your review was meant for someone else 'cause I don't remember you making any relative references, unless they went completely over my head.

allisonconnor - You know, for being brain dead, that was awfully poetic. Although your message reminds me of a scene I wrote for another story where I describe a flickering fire and how it creates a sort of battle of light and shadow on Draco's bare chest. It's one of my favorite scenes that I've written (and not just because Draco's half naked in it). Anyway, I like to think I made it seem a little bit like art, in both beauty and expression. I wish you could read it so you could tell me what you think. Sorry I couldn't update sooner to distract you from classes, but hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter.

~~~\~~~

Step 4: Tempting the Dragon

Malfoy men tend to shy away from relationships unless they are purely physical. No matter how much he is physically attracted to you, if there is even the slightest doubt in his mind that he may care for you, he will never take the relationship to the next step. Therefore, I recommend that you do all in your power to drive him as close to the edge as possible (including jumping into his bed, if need be). Don't worry, most Malfoy men have impeccable self-control, and even though it may drive him to insanity, he will try his best to rein in his lust. Never doubt this, for when a Malfoy finally makes you his, it will be on his terms, and he will be the one in control.

~~~\~~~

While Malfoy finished moving into her room, Hermione went into the bathroom to ready herself for bed. Normally it took her five or ten minutes at most. Tonight she had already been in there for thirty. She just couldn't bring herself to step outside, where Malfoy would be waiting. Probably in just his boxers. The mental image made her shiver. Dear Merlin, I'm either going to freak out, or do something very, very stupid. I just know it. She stared down at the thin shorts and rayon shirt she normally wore to bed, cursing her body for being such a heat insulator. She used to drive her mum mad by sleeping in shorts and a t-shirt in midwinter, even if her bedroom was cold. There was something about the way she cocooned herself with covers that made her too hot if she ever wore anything warmer. But knowing that Malfoy was about to see her like this after so many days (the Graduation Eve Incident aside) when it had taken years for her to allow Ron the same privilege...she suddenly wished she had a thick nightgown that covered every inch of her skin. It would make her feel less like a 'scarlet woman,' as Ron's mother would say.

Hermione still hadn't completely gotten over that time in Fourth Year, when Mrs. Weasley had taken the word of The Daily Prophet over hers and called her such because she had allegedly been stringing along both Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and Viktor Krum, Bulgaria's internationally-famous Quidditch star. Long story short, Mrs. Weasley should have known Hermione well enough by then to know she was more interested in Ron romantically than the other two put together. It wasn't until she had noticed her care packages being slightly lacking compared to the boys' that she realized Mrs. Weasley didn't think of her as a daughter so much after all, or at least not enough to believe her over that wretched gossip hag Rita Skeeter. Fortunately, Harry had remedied that by tactfully setting her straight, but the lack of trust had stung. Mrs. Weasley had become a second mum to her, but Hermione suspected the woman was always going to be quick to think the worst of her.

Another reason she and Ron hadn't worked out; he hadn't believed her when she mentioned her suspicions. He was rather thick-skulled on a daily basis, let alone trying to tell him that she didn't want to live at The Burrow because she was afraid his mother didn't truly like her. That conversation had been impossible, because Ron seemingly had the emotional range of a teaspoon, and therefore didn't recognize anything more than hunger, anger, happiness, and sadness.

Unlike Malfoy, who had a creepy sense of what she was feeling before she even finished feeling it. It was probably what made his insults so poignant; he knew exactly which buttons to press and when to drive her up the wall. He'd have to have a sense of her emotional patterns in order to manipulate them effectively. Which was exactly why she was procrastinating exiting the bathroom. He had more control over her now than ever before and she hated it. And she really didn't want to let him see her underdressed because it would feel like she was rewarding him somehow for being a prat. It was his fault she was in this mess, after all.

But she was so hot, despite the fact it was still technically winter and therefore cold outside. Her palms were already sweating, and her heart was pounding out of nerves. Sure, she could transfigure her pajamas into a proper nightgown, but that would just make her whole body start sweating, and while her body odor might actually drive Malfoy out of her bed, it would defeat the purpose of him sleeping next to her in the first place. She groaned loudly, cradling her head in her hands.

A knock suddenly sounded on the door, making her jump.

"Granger, are you alright in there?" Malfoy called from the other side.

She swore her heart skipped a beat. She was going to hyperventilate. Deep breaths, Hermione! Calm down! She forced all the air out of her lungs and drew in a normal breath.

"Yes, I'm fine!" she called back, grateful her voice didn't crack. She leaned forward and clutched the edge of the counter in front of her, closing her eyes in concentration. In...out...in...out. That's it. Nice and slow and easy...

You can't stay in here all night, you know, her inner voice reminded her.

I know! But just the thought of going out there...getting into the same bed! Granted, it's a huge bed, but still! I'd be able to just reach over and...

She shook her head. Thoughts like that were not going to get her anywhere. She had to just do it. He had already promised not to take advantage of the situation, so all she had to do was trust him. She snorted at the thought. Yes, that's reassuring.

Five minutes later she gathered her courage and opened the door before she lost it. She stepped into the room and quietly closed the door behind her, staring at the floor. She quickly walked over to her side of the bed without looking at him and climbed in. She turned on her side, facing away from him, and let out the breath she had been holding. She snuggled into the covers, tucking herself in.

"Granger," he complained in a hurt tone.

"What?" she muttered without moving.

"Where's my goodnight kiss?"

She shut her eyes and clutched the blankets tighter around her. She knew she couldn't trust him. Breathe, Hermione. "You don't deserve one, git," she replied.

"Nonsense," he countered. She felt, rather than heard, him slide over to her side of the bed. "I always deserve one."

She tested the blanket barrier around her back with her elbow. Good, at least he won't get through that. I cannot have him touching me. "I disagree," she retorted.

You know what would really get him to leave you alone? If you showed him exactly what that potion makes you want to do to him, her inner voice taunted. She shivered at the thought. Allowing herself to just pounce on him? To teach him a lesson? It was almost too good to be true.

It is, another voice reminded her. You might not be able to stop, and he might not either. But he did promise...

She squeaked when she felt Malfoy's lips brush her ear. "Graaaangerrrr, where's my kiss?" he sang teasingly.

Now's your opening! Go for it! the first voice urged.

No! You can't give in so easily! cried the second.

You know, interjected a third, it would be incredibly fun to tease him right back...a taste of his own medicine...

Spurred on by the arousal now warming her body at Malfoy's proximity, Hermione decided she liked the third voice better. It was a nice compromise, half-surrendering, yet half-teasing.

"Grang-" he whispered again.

Before he could finish, Hermione turned over, burst out of the cocoon she had made, and launched herself into him, knocking him onto his back.

Malfoy grunted at the impact but she didn't give him time to do anything else before she crawled on top of him properly and kissed him. Someone had to teach him to be careful what he wished for, and she was just the girl to do it.

***/***

All Draco had wanted to do was push her a little, test the limit of her control. Whatever he had expected Granger to do, it wasn't that. He had expected something more along the lines of her attempting to slap him, or if she did kiss him, it would be the barest brush of the lips before she retreated back under the covers. What he got instead was Granger pouncing on him like a wild cat in heat. Then again, she had warned him that her control might snap under the potion's influence. Not that he was complaining or anything.

It only took him a moment to adjust before he opened his mouth and allowed her to plunder it. His hands went straight toward her back, hoping he could slide them under her shirt, maybe even under her shorts if he got the chance.

But Granger wasn't having any of it. Her hands caught his and interlaced their fingers, preventing him from touching her the way he wanted to. Her control had snapped, hadn't it? That was why she had pounced on him. ...Wasn't it? Maybe she just liked being on top. It would fit with her bossy personality, after all.

She suddenly shoved his hands against the pillows on either side of his head and lowered her body completely onto his, leaving only her shirt's thin layer of rayon between their bare chests. Only his silky boxers and her thin cotton shorts (and probably some flimsy underwear beneath that) barred his way to her most intimate parts. She slid her body against his and he groaned into her mouth, feeling her lips smile against his. He hardened like wood almost instantly, and his skin felt like it was pleasurably on fire.

Who was this girl? No, this beautiful, sexy succubus, now teasing him relentlessly? Her shirt was riding up her stomach from the friction so with each pass more and more of her soft, silky skin glided across his stomach.

His body strained against hers, trying to create more friction to push up her shirt just to feel more skin above, while below his member was half-attempting to create enough friction to burn a hole through their barriers of clothing. He could deal with some pain if it meant he would end up sliding against that moist, warm haven between her thighs.

Eventually, Granger broke the kiss so they could both replenish their oxygen levels. He groaned at the loss, panting, but she was still grinding her body against his. Merlin, he wanted to just thrust inside of her so badly. He opened his eyes to see her wicked grin, her lips hovering so close to his that he wondered if he could make them connect by sucking in the air between them. He had to be dreaming. Granger would never do this, potion or no potion. It was impossible in reality. But Merlin, he prayed to whatever powers existed that he'd never wake up if he were dreaming.

Finally, he felt her lips touch his once again. He opened his mouth, ready for another go, but she merely brushed her lips against his once and pulled away completely.

"Goodnight, Draco," her husky voice purred. It conjured an erotic mental image of her luxuriating on a bed of velvet, naked and sated. She tucked herself back under the covers on her side, exactly as she had been positioned before.

He stared at her, dumbfounded, for a good minute, lamenting the sudden absence of warmth, and wondered what the bloody hell had just happened. And then it all fell in line. He had been teasing her, so she decided to get revenge on him, and to make him let his guard down, she had made it looked like her control had snapped. But really, she had chosen that exact moment.

Either that potion she had consumed could alter personalities, or Hermione Granger was his soulmate.

As soon as the thought popped into his head, he shoved it away. Soulmates, he scoffed mentally. Bollocks. No such thing. He looked down and frowned at his still achingly hard erection. Then he looked at Granger. He glared at her back. What he wanted to do was flip her over and have his bloody way with her, the minx. He sighed. But he couldn't. He had promised her no sex.

He glanced sideways at her. ...Although...there were lots of other things they could do that weren't sex...

He shook his head. No, she'd had enough to deal with tonight. He could easily retaliate tomorrow. He grinned wickedly at the schemes already forming in his head. Yes, he'd make her pay for that later. Tonight, they just needed to sleep.

He looked down at his erection and frowned, sighing. But first he needed to take care of this.

He got out of bed and quickly made his way to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

***/***

Hermione's heart was pounding again, partly from the physical exertion, partly from the effort to stay silent, partly from the thrill of arousal which still coursed through her body, and partly from the thrill of beating Draco Malfoy at his own game.

As soon as she heard the bathroom door close, Hermione burst out into quietly restrained giggles, still not believing what she had done. Sure, the potion had amplified everything...her lust, her confidence, her dominant streak...

But she had still done it, and succeeded splendidly at that. She had known Malfoy long enough to know that when he was silent, he was plotting. And he had been silent ever since she had rolled off him. That told her he was at least suitably impressed and already planning his own retaliation. Otherwise he would have said something snarky, like, 'See, Granger? You want me.' His silence always meant more than his words.

By the time he finally came out of the bathroom, she had calmed down some, but was still wide awake. She didn't even want to know what time it was because she should have fallen asleep hours ago, but it was still pitch black behind the curtains, so it couldn't have been that late.

Hermione sat up and watched him as he climbed back into bed. She smirked, feeling a sudden urge to revel in her victory.

"You broke your promise, you know," she commented lightly.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "How's that?" he replied, pulling the covers over his legs.

She involuntarily watched his thighs disappear under the blankets and licked her lips, remembering the feel of his silky boxers and bare skin on her legs. Wow, okay. This was a really bad idea. I should have just tried to go to sleep anyway... even though taunting him is fun. Merlin, now I'm just torturing myself!

She glanced back up at his face, which was watching hers. "You didn't stop me," she clarified.

His mouth slowly curved into a knowing smirk. She was instantly swimming in arousal all over again.

"I didn't need to stop you; you stopped yourself before things got too...out of control."

She tried to breathe normally, but her eyes kept roaming, over his face, his chest, his arms. The memories of him naked, the knowledge that he was one scrap of clothing away from being naked right next to her...she tried to force her eyes shut so she could focus on being calm, but all she could focus on was him, and the way his skin felt against hers, the groans he made when she made him want her like a constant buzzing in her ears...

She finally managed to tear her gaze away from him, but she was so incredibly aroused she didn't know how to stop it. Maybe she could just hide under the covers and get herself off? Malfoy surely wasn't going to help her after the stunt she just pulled, not that she would ever dream of asking him anyway. That conversation would be far too embarrassing.

Completely forgetting about the conversation she had started with him, she sunk back down under the covers up to her chin, lying on her back, and closed her eyes, allowing her heightened arousal to wash over her. If she was going to do it, now was as good a time as any. At this point she honestly didn't care if Malfoy would figure out what she was doing. She just needed release so she could sleep.

"Granger?" he prompted curiously.

"Shut up, Malfoy. I'm trying to concentrate."

She let him assume she meant trying to concentrate on sleeping, hoping he would try to do that himself and leave her alone. She exhaled, willing her body to relax, and started quietly pushing down her shorts and underwear under the covers. When she got those off, she moved her hands up to push her shirt above her breasts. It would take more time to completely take it off, and leaving it on wouldn't restrict her movements, so just getting the material out of the way would do for now.

"Would you like a hand to help with that?" Malfoy whispered seductively from right next to her.

She jumped and then glared at him. Is he a freakin' ninja or something? Nobody moves that silently every time!

"With what?" she replied stiffly, though her hands resumed moving, now caressing her skin in preparation.

Instead of replying with words as she expected, he merely grinned wickedly at her and his own hand joined both of hers, slowly sliding across her stomach.

She jumped again at the sudden contact, halting her hands' movements. She contemplated telling him to sod off, but she desperately needed that release, and, as much as she hated to admit it, his hands were so talented that she'd be an idiot to pass up the opportunity for such intense pleasure. So instead she sighed and relaxed into his touch.

"How did you know?" she whispered.

"Well, first of all," he started smugly, sliding his hand up to her breasts and massaging them, "there was no way you would be able to just go straight to sleep after snogging like that."

Her breathing turned harsh and she gripped the sheets next to her body. She probably wasn't going to last very long, considering how turned on she already was.

"Secondly, you don't sleep on your back, yet you wanted me to think that you were trying to sleep."

She gasped and her eyes flew open, looking straight at him. Her eyelids fluttered as his hand gave her breast one last caress before moving further south. She forced her eyes to focus and narrowed them at him.

"You don't know that," she denied thickly, trying to sound confident about it.

He grinned. "But I do," he countered. Her breath hitched and she bit her lip as he trailed his fingers up and down her thighs. She couldn't stop herself from squirming. He chuckled at her. "You see, you already tried to make me think you were attempting to sleep twice before that tonight, and both of those times," he lightly dragged his hand lightly across the space between, which evoked a small, pleading moan from her throat, "you turned onto your side, not your back. That's how I knew you were up to something."

He skimmed a few more times across her thighs before rubbing circles and finally inching his way to where she wanted his fingers to be. "Thirdly, and this is how I figured out what you were doing, I felt you take your clothes off under the covers. You see, in such a big bed as this, you'd think that it would be hard to tell what someone else is doing on the other side, but in fact, it's actually very easy to tell, because of the way the sheets move." He paused. "And I was staring at your form through the covers, too, so I saw your hands and legs move," he added cheekily.

Hermione moaned as his fingers finally reached their destination. At the slightest pressure of his fingers, her legs opened wider for him. She squirmed as he started stroking her. "Finally," he continued, smirking, "you're a straight woman, Granger. Any straight woman in the same bed as me is either getting off with me, or getting off to me, no exceptions, ever. So, seeing as how you clearly weren't getting off with me, by process of elimination, that left getting off to me, and really, I'm just so generous when it comes to these things, that I couldn't lie idly by and not assist you in your time of need."

Hermione whimpered as he stroked and rubbed her. She felt like every muscle in her body was tensed, waiting for that final push over the edge, but it just wasn't enough. She was delirious with the desire for release, and it was so much more intense than the first time they had done this. Granted, that first time she didn't have a potion in her system making her so horny that every moment was absolute torture.

"More!" she begged. "I need more!" Her body strained to rub against his fingers, hoping for any kind of extra stimulation.

"What do you say?" Malfoy teased, stopping his ministrations.

Hermione cried out in frustration and glared at him. He just smirked back and his fingers slowly started teasing her, purposefully holding back.

She whimpered again. Even in her current state she had enough presence of mind to vehemently curse him for abusing his power over her, but if he didn't finish her off, she was going to kill him, and it would be such a shame to deny herself his talents in the future. So she gave in.

"Please, Draco, please!"

"Good girl," he replied smugly. His hand set back to work and Hermione had time to throw him another glare before she couldn't help but start moaning again.

Finally, with a well-timed flick, Malfoy whispered seductively into her ear, "Come for me, Hermione."

And she did, screaming exultantly as the pleasure exploded inside her like an uranium bomb.

As she came down from her high, she was torn between grudgingly thanking him for his 'generosity' and slapping him for being so smug about it. She didn't need to look to know he was immensely pleased at the turn of events and was wearing a smirk to show it.

Literally too embarrassed to face him, she turned over onto her side and wrapped herself up again in the covers like a protective shield. She hoped Malfoy was done messing with her for the night, but she braced herself just in case. Her defenses were up like zinc against acid; there was no way he was getting through to her again. She cursed him for being so observant. Then she cursed him for being so talented. Then she hoped that she didn't get addicted to his touch. It would probably be the worst thing that could happen if she did. She very much worried that he could ruin her for other men, though she loathed giving him that much credit, and they would never be able to have a full relationship, so she'd never be completely satisfied with someone else, not that sex was everything in a relationship, but it was pretty important, and a couple's sexual relationship often said a lot about their actual relationship...

Maybe she could find another man who was equally talented, or... no. She was worrying too much. Nearly any man could become as talented as Malfoy. The only reason he was so good now was because he had had an obscene amount of practice. That's all it took. After all, practice did make perfect, as the saying goes. She wanted the man who made her feel like this to be her future husband, not an infamous playboy. So all she had to do was settle down with a good man, and teach him how to satisfy her. It couldn't be that hard. The last thought she had before finally drifting off to sleep was how she would pity the woman who ended up as Mrs. Draco Malfoy.