Draco woke the next morning feeling lighter than he had in years. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the canopy of his bed, a grin spreading across his face as he remembered the previous evening. He hadn't intended to kiss her, not at all. He had just wanted to ensure that she believed him, to make her understand that it hadn't just been a throwaway comment. But when she'd leaned into him like that, face upturned, eyes closed, he couldn't resist tasting her lips, desperate to find out if they were as soft as he imagined.

He had not been disappointed. And while he had been mentally prepared for her to pull away, or slap him, or (Merlin forbid) punch him in the face again, instead she'd pulled him in closer, and kissed him back with typical Hermione-Granger-brand power and strength. He'd felt light-headed, giddy almost. His mind had been screaming at him to touch more of her, grab her, lift her off the floor, wrap her legs around his waist, take her back to his bedroom and have his way with her until neither of them could walk straight. But he'd ignored that voice. Feeling her respond to his kiss had been enough. For now.

It wasn't quite enough, however, to completely dismiss the longing in his heart. Or, more pressingly, the throbbing in his boxers. Groaning, he rolled out of bed, dressed quickly, and headed out into the common room. It was empty, silent, and he couldn't hear any noise coming from her rooms. He snuck out as quietly as he could, and made his way down to the Great Hall.

He was one of the first there that morning, which didn't bother him. It gave him more time to think. He dropped onto a bench at the Slytherin table and poured himself a cup of black coffee. As he stirred two heaped teaspoons of sugar into it, his mind wandered back to last night again. He tried to pinpoint the thing that had made him lose control over himself. He ran through the moments leading up to the kiss, remembering how she'd reacted to the pain in her neck. He hadn't even thought about raising his hand to ease it; his body had acted without instruction. And then ...

His eyes widened. She had let her head fall back into his hand. She had allowed him to take control of the situation. She had trusted him to hold her, to support her. She trusted him.

He let out the breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. Well, shit. He could be well and truly fucked here.

'Mate?' His head snapped up, and he found Blaise Zabini standing on the other side of the table, a slightly concerned frown creasing his dark brow. 'Scary thousand-yard stare, that. Everything OK?'

'Yes,' he sighed, shaking his head then smiling at Blaise as he slid onto the bench opposite him. 'Sorry. Just had a lot on my mind recently.'

'All good stuff, though, yeah?' Draco raised an eyebrow at Blaise's question, and Blaise flashed him a slightly apologetic grin. 'It's just ... you're looking better these days. A lot better. Hell, I don't think I've seen you this ... settled in nearly 3 years. And you don't look like you're going to faint from exhaustion like a Victorian Muggle lady any more.' Blaise gave him a lopsided grin, and Draco grabbed a nearby pastry and whipped it at him, chuckling. Blaise caught the pastry deftly and sunk his teeth into it, then looked Draco in the eyes. 'Seriously. It's a good sight to see. I don't know what's changed, but I'm bloody glad to see it.'

'Thank you,' Draco returned, his smile soft as he thought about the reason for his current state of wellbeing.

As if thinking about her had summoned her, he noticed Hermione entering the Great Hall out of the corner of his eye. She seemed a little agitated in her movements, but she was dressed in full uniform and looked well rested. He caught himself just as he was about to rise from his bench to greet her. He disguised the movement by swinging one leg over the other side of the bench to straddle it, feigning that his intention had been to lean his side against the table. He carefully avoided looking in her direction at all, just kept his eyes on Blaise who was now talking animatedly about the upcoming Quidditch try-outs, which were apparently the first ones being allowed since their return with a view of an interhouse championship starting next term. Draco dimly registered that he hadn't even thought about Quidditch once since they'd been back.

As he nodded along to his friend's monologue, he silently analysed his own reactions and wondered what had stopped him from approaching Hermione. Everyone knew that they shared a common room, and duties as the Head Boy and Girl, so surely it wouldn't seem so conspicuous if he were to speak to her, right? Something crept into his mind that made his chest tighten with anxiety. They could be seen together, but that didn't mean that they should be.

He angled his head so that Blaise could believe that he was looking at him, but just past the boy's right ear he could see her at her own table, surrounded by people she had a longer history with than she did with him in this new dynamic. People who, despite his recent efforts, probably still had a less than kind opinion of Draco Malfoy. How might it affect their support of her if they misunderstood what was happening between them?

His heart dropped heavily into his stomach, and he closed his mind against what that could mean for the longevity of any potential development between them. He couldn't think about that right now, not with all the progress he'd made recently. The reality of that situation might truly break him. He dragged his eyes away from her, resolving to keep their contact as inconspicuous as possible. To protect her, he could do that. He must.


For the rest of the day, he was especially aware of his reactions to her. In the classes that they shared, he did his best to minimise the amount of times he glanced her way, reminding himself that she was OK, that he didn't need to check on her constantly. In the classes that they didn't share, he worried that he had been too obvious in his attentions towards her in the past few weeks and wondered if anybody had already noticed. As a consequence, he heard next to nothing of what his professors were try to teach them that day.

In the corridors between classes, he tried to make sure he was walking ahead of her, so that he couldn't be distracted by watching her walk in front of him, or by analysing how other students would watch her as they passed.

At meal times, he registered her entering and leaving the Great Hall, but made every effort to engage fully in the conversations around him to distract himself. His friends seemed surprised but delighted by this sudden change, and again he worried that it had been obvious as to what was drawing his attention away.

So he was quite relieved when dinner finally began to wrap up around him. He was anxious from a day of worrying, and felt itchy all over, almost like he was withdrawing from his usual daily amount of mental and visual contact with her. He watched through his fringe as she got up from the Gryffindor table, noting that her plate had remained empty throughout the whole meal. He catalogued that carefully for later discussion.

She bid goodnight to her friends and marched quickly from the hall, not pausing to look back. He waited just enough time, then made his own excuses and left his table, following her footsteps. He strode through the castle with his hands in his pockets, taking care to look nonchalant but keeping his pace a little quicker than usual. She'd seemed in a hurry as she'd left, and he wanted to catch up in time to hold their door open for her, as he usually did. He turned into the corridor that led to their shared quarters and was surprised to find it empty. He frowned, his concern growing as he increased his pace again, eyes fixed on their portrait. He spoke the password and grasped the frame as it swung open, urging it to move faster than it was inclined to. He stumbled as he scrambled through the entryway, cursing as it slowed him slightly, then burst into their common room, eyes rapidly surveying the area.

Empty.

'Granger?' He heard the fear in his own voice, and forced himself to stop, trying to slow his thoughts. She couldn't have gone anywhere else. Tonight was their night for the spell. She knew this. So where was she? Could something have happened to her on the way to their rooms? His stomach clenched and he suddenly found it very hard to breathe. 'Hermione!'

'Yes?' Her voice came from behind him, and he whipped around to see her stood in the doorway of her bedroom. He let out a shaky breath and his vision steadied again. He took a step towards her, noticing that she'd changed out of her uniform and into her old, baggy hoodie and jeans. Her unruly curls were pulled into a ponytail behind her head, and swayed slightly as she cocked her head, clearly waiting for him to respond to her. She looked distractingly delicious.

'Are you OK?' He forced away the heat in his lower abdomen as he remembered his fear from moments before. He was confused when her eyes hardened slightly at his question.

'I'm fine, thank you,' she sniffed, sweeping past him and into the common room. He rotated on the spot, watching her go by. It seemed like she was avoiding coming too close to him.

'Is something wrong?' he tried again.

'Why would anything be wrong?' she snapped, her back now to him as she retrieved her wand and the memory spell book from the study table. Her back was rigid, but not how it usually was when she was in pain.

'Well, glad we cleared that up,' he sighed sarcastically. He really couldn't understand why she would be acting this way. At his tone, she whirled around to glare at him, and he took a small step back. Her eyes were cold, closed off, yet also alight with a terrifying ferocity. He hadn't seen her look at him like that for nearly three months now. He faltered slightly, grasping for another way to try and get her to open up. 'Are you, um, feeling ready to do the spell tonight?'

'Right, well, let's just get it over with, shall we?' she growled, raising her wand and pointing it at his temple.

'Whoa, whoa!' He raised both of his hands in front of his face. 'Granger, I don't think we should do this right now!'

She lowered her wand and huffed in exasperation. 'Why not? Didn't you just say -'

'Well, yes, I did. But something is clearly bothering you, and I think it might be wise for us to talk about whatever it is before you start digging around in my head?' His smile was meant to be placating, but it only seemed to infuriate her more. She clenched her fists and her nostrils flared.

'Honestly, Malfoy, do you really think I'd let my emotions influence my actions like that?!'

'This from the girl who broke my nose in third year.' It had been risky, an attempt at humour to break the tension. He held his breath to see if it had worked, bracing himself in case it hadn't and she threw a hex at him. She glared at him for a long time, then grunted in irritation. She dropped her wand and the book on the coffee table between them and flopped down on her sofa, arms folded across her chest, legs crossed in front of her.

'Fine,' she muttered through gritted teeth. He let out his breath slowly, finally lowering his hands as he sat down next to her. He waited, but she seethed silently for some time, pointedly avoiding his gaze. Eventually, he lost patience and resorted to something he hoped would work.

'Out with it, Granger.' His tone was final, commanding. It had had an affect on her before and he hoped it would now. If not, he was out of ideas. She hesitated, then seemed to collapse in on herself slightly.

'You kissed me yesterday.' His heart plummeted for what felt like the hundredth time that day and his stomach turned over. Was she mad at him for that? Maybe he had misread her response after all. He opened his mouth to apologise, to promise that it would never happen again, but she talked over him. 'You kissed me, and then you just completely ignored me today, like it didn't happen.'

He stared at her for some time, and when she finally looked at him she did something that surprised him even more. She lifted her hand to his chin and pushed upwards, closing his mouth.

'Not a good look on you,' she mumbled.

His own words. The firey, saucy minx was now using his own words against him. She removed her hand from his chin, but before she could tuck it away again, his own fingers shot out and wrapped around her wrist. She looked down at where his skin touched hers, and he knew she felt the same electricity as he did.

'I've had to ignore you today, Granger.' Her eyes met his, and for some reason the anger he saw there made his blood rush south. He tried to ignore it as he continued, 'If I didn't, I wouldn't have been able to keep my hands off you.'

Anger turned to confusion as she studied his eyes. 'I don't -'

'You feel this, right?' His fingers slid along her palm to lace through hers, and he felt another charge run up his arm at the contact. Her eyelids fluttered slightly and he couldn't help but smirk a little. 'I know you do. It's intoxicating. If I had looked at you too much today, I don't know that I would have been able to resist the urge to touch you again, to feel ... whatever this is. And that could have led to another kiss and then, well, Merlin knows what else. And at that point, I wouldn't care who saw. But I can't do that to you.'

He could see the effect his words were having on her. Her breathing was rapid, a light pink flush had crept up her neck, and the pupils of her golden brown eyes were blown wide. But at this last sentence, her frown returned. 'Can't do what?'

'Well,' he continued, now looking at his feet. 'We have to think about how it would look, you and I -'

'So that's it.' She snatched her hand away. He raised an eyebrow at her, trying to reach for her again.

'What's it?'

'You'd be ashamed to be seen with me.' Her voice was so icy cold, so sharp, that he almost felt it cut him. She stood quickly and turned towards her bedroom, spitting out, 'I knew this was a mistake.'

It took him longer than it should have to realise what was happening, but when he did he was off the sofa in seconds, jumping over the back of it and chasing after her. He caught her just before she reached her door and spun her to face him. She raised her hands to push him away, so he grabbed her wrists, pushing her back against the stone wall, hands held above her head. She still fought him, however, and he had to wedge his knee between her legs to try and avoid being kicked.

'Let go of me!' Her body thrashed against him and he almost lost his grip on her.

'Banshee's teeth, Granger, would you just stop?!' He leaned into her, hard. Finally she stilled, and her head dropped forward, hair shielding her face. Was she ... 'Look at me, Hermione.' His voice was soft, and she gently shook her head. He put more command into his tone. 'Look at me.' She paused, and he thought she might refuse, but then her head tipped back against the wall, her curls falling away from her face. His heart wrenched. He bloody knew it, she was crying. Anger and self-loathing boiled in him. Had he done this to her? Had he made her this insecure? He took a steadying breath and met her eyes. 'What gave you the impression that I would be ashamed to be seen with you?'

'W-well,' she choked out. 'Y-you said, th-think about h-how it would look ... '

Merlin, he was a fool. His self-hatred flared again, but he pushed it aside in order to focus on her.

'Yes, Granger, I said that.' She sucked in a breath, but he continued before she could scream at him. 'Think how it would look for you. To be seen being ... close with an ex-Death Eater, even a publicly pardoned one. I know what you did for me, but does anyone else?' At this she paused, considering what he was saying. It hurt him to say it, but he carried on. 'No matter how much I want to touch you, walk beside you, have you on my arm at all possible moments, I won't do that to you. Your reputation as part of the Golden Trio, it's important. No - ' he spoke louder as she tried to protest ' - listen to me, Hermione. I know how these things work. I've been prepped for government and surrounded with high society etiquette my whole life. You could have it all, once we graduate. You could ride that reputation all the way to the top, even to Minister if you wanted to. But you definitely won't do it if you had a Malfoy by your side. You have the potential to do great things, make such big changes to our world, and I won't be selfish enough to take those opportunities away from you.'

'Then I don't want them.'

'What?' He blinked down at her, and she raised her head to meet his eyes. He tried to ignore the effect her direct gaze had on him.

'If those opportunities would only be handed to me because of my reputation, or taken away because of who I choose to associate with, then I don't want them.' He opened his mouth but she cut him off. 'No, now you listen, Draco Malfoy. I have worked extremely hard for everything I have ever had. I have earned my place as the top of my classes. I have faced threats to my life because of who I was born as. I have stood for those who don't have rights when no-one else would. And if you think, after all of it, that I would just accept ready-plated offers of employment and invitations into Wizarding high society that are handed out on the coat tails of rumours that were spread about me during the worst year of my entire life, then you really don't know me at all.' He studied her for a moment, noting that despite her trembling lower lip her chin was still tilted up in defiance, the challenging fire in her eyes burned hotter than ever, and the squaring of her shoulders was completely solid.

And he believed her. The power rolling off the witch pressed against his body was almost staggering. Again, he felt that overwhelming flood of pride as he absorbed her words. It might take him some time to accept them, to adjust his view on how things could possibly be, but maybe ...

Something that had been nagging at him for months rose to the surface again.

'Why did you write the letter?' He asked quietly. He needed to know; it was the final puzzle piece. She suddenly sagged against him, but she didn't look away.

'Because, I know what it's like for people to make assumptions about you without having all of the facts. Because I'd seen how your father and Voldemort spoke to you. Because I'd seen the fear in your eyes on that last day, and the way you shielded your mother. Because I've grown up alongside you, Draco, and although for many of those years you were a foul, loathsome, evil little coacroch - ' the corner of her mouth twitched, just slightly ' - I just couldn't bring myself to believe that you were, truly, evil. That you could ever do those things out of your own choice. And so, when I heard about your trial date, I wrote a letter saying almost all of that to the Ministry, hoping that my observations might count for something. I know you've been brought up to be constanly aware of the opinions that others will have of you, but I'm at a point in my life where I'm tired of trying to live up to everyone's expectations of me. Aren't you?' Tears welled in her eyes again as she stared into his, and he swallowed against the lump in his throat.

'Granger' was all he managed to say before his lips crashed into hers. She let out an impatient groan and struggled against his grip on her wrists. He released her and moved back to break their kiss, thinking that it was her intent to break away, but she immediately wound her newly freed arms around his neck and pulled him down so that she could kiss him more soundly. He backed her up against the wall again, trying to make as much contact between their bodies as possible. But it was hard to do this with their height difference. If he pressed up against like he wanted to, like he needed to, he would have to stop kissing her. And at this moment, he felt like he never wanted to stop kissing her, ever.

With a frustrated growl, he ran his hands down her sides and over her lower back to cup her arse in his hands. His cock pulsed at the feel of it, but he didn't linger for long. Instead, he used it to lift her, hiking her up the wall so that her mouth was level with his. She hissed slightly in what he thought might be pain, and he instantly pulled back, worried that he'd hurt her, worried that he was taking advantage of an emotional moment between them.

'Don't you fucking dare,' she snarled, wrapping her legs round his waist and burying a hand into the hair at the back of his head, gripping it tightly and forcing him to look into her eyes. 'No more chivalry, not tonight. I've waited too long.' As she said this, she rolled her hips against him, causing friction to run up and down his shaft. The sensation combined with the usual static that passed between them almost buckled his knees. His eyes rolled in his head and he heard himself groaning desperately. She smirked at his response to her, and he instantly closed the gap between them again, his teeth nipping at her full lower lip. She whimpered into his mouth as his hands gripped her arse tighter and he leaned his hips into hers, the now painfully hard evidence of his arousal grinding against her centre. He trailed kisses over her mouth, down her chin, along her jaw, pausing to lick and suck at a spot just under her ear before brushing his lips against her throat teasingly. As though the soft touch was too much for her, she dug her nails into his shoulders as she arched her back, pressing her breasts into his chest and her heels into his backside. His hips snapped forward subconsciously in response.

'Play fair, Granger,' he panted into her neck, trying to regain enough control of himself to make the next move.

'I've had enough of playing, Malfoy.' He lifted his head to look into her eyes, and found resolve staring back at him. 'I want this.'

'I'm going to have to ask you to repeat that many times tonight,' he murmered, the doubt in the back of his mind still strong. She nodded, and he lowered her to the ground before taking her hand and leading her to his bedroom. He shut the door behind her, the candles in his room lighting magically, triggered by their presence. In this light, in his space, she looked more beautiful than ever. She reached for him again.

'Wait.' He grabbed her hands in his own and raised them to his lips, kissing her fingers softly. Confusion and doubt flittered across her face, so he hastily added, 'I want to do this right.'

She rolled her eyes and made an impatient noise in the back of her throat. 'I said - '

'Oh, I heard you alright, Princess,' he chuckled, enjoying the way her pupils expanded when he called her that name. 'And believe me when I tell you that you will have many nights of passion, during which I promise to work very hard at making you cum so many times that you'll forget your own name.' She blushed an attractive shade of beetroot at his words, but to her credit she maintained eye contact. He grasped her hips and pulled her against him again, but this time his movements were softer, slower. 'Tonight, however, I have a few things I need to make up for. As you have so eloquently pointed out in recent weeks, I have said many incorrect and hurtful things about you and your appearance over the years.'

She tried to speak then, but he quickly put one large hand over her mouth. 'I wasn't finished.' His tone was forceful, a warning, and he practically felt her melt against him in response. This confirmed a few of his suspicions, but he knew he would have to wait just a little longer before he could explore that side of things any further. Fingers still clamped over her lips, he continued, 'I know it will take longer than one night to undo all of the damage that my stupid words have caused. But tonight, I plan on making a very decent start at making amends. If that's alright with you, of course?' He didn't remove his hand but lifted one eyebrow to indicate that he still expected her to reply. Eyes locked on his, she nodded vigorously.

'I want to explore your body, Hermione.' His voice was hushed now, as he finally shared one of his deepest desires with her. 'I want to learn what you want, what you need. I want to take my time. I don't care how long it takes, I need to do this.' He removed his hand from her mouth the cup her face, his thumb running against her cheekbone as he gazed down at her.

'Then do it,' she breathed.


A/N: Aplogies for the cliffhanger - Draco's not the only one who wants to take their time on this ;)