Author's Notes: Some lemony dreams at the end of this chapter.

Chapter 15

Since Transfiguration was going to be taught by McGonagall, at least for the NEWT-level students, Hermione was grateful that if she had to have one class with Ginny Weasley it was this one, where the other witch would be on her best behaviour. Hermione wondered, not for the first time, if it was too late to transfer to Beauxbatons.

Ginny and her entourage of Hermione's former friends were leaning against the wall outside of Hermione's class and glared at her as she walked past. Hermione was in the wrong because she'd been cheated on and mistreated by Ron; it was like a championship gaslighting campaign. Well she wasn't going to fall for it this time. She had always apologised when other people had done her wrong in the past, but this time she refused to.

Hermione glared back, tired of Ginny's ridiculousness, certain that the redhead thought that Hermione was somehow to blame for her and Harry's breakup. Hermione was at the point where she wished that she had something to do with it. She'd never had any interest in Harry Potter beyond sisterly affection, but she really wished that they had kissed or something so she could throw it in Ginny's face.

"Careful with those dirty looks, Granger," Ginny called. "If we didn't share a house that would have just cost you points."

Hermione snorted as she entered the classroom. As though she gave a single fuck about house points. Slytherin could take the House Cup for the next one hundred and fifty years as far as Hermione was concerned.

Ignoring everyone as she walked down the centre aisle, Hermione managed to get a front table in Transfiguration and she tried not to feel her heart breaking a little when McGonagall complimented Ginny on her way into the room for dealing with some rowdy second years out in the hallway. She bit the inside of her cheek instead wondering if she could manage to make herself bleed without anyone noticing.

"Hullo, Granger," Pansy said as she sat down elegantly in the seat next to Hermione. "I've never sat in the front row before. Do you get more information up here?"

"If you must know," Hermione hissed, "I'm avoiding Nott and the plonkers from my house." Pansy looked at her with narrowed eyes at her mention of her house mate, but didn't question Hermione's desire to avoid him.

"Plonkers," Pansy sounded out the word. "That's a new one for me, but it suits them. What does it mean? A bit slow?"

"Yeah, but why are you sitting with me?" Hermione regretted the words the moment that they were out of her mouth. She hadn't really meant to be rude to the witch, who hadn't done anything to her in the time that they had been back at Hogwarts. Not that Pansy hadn't been a complete cunt to her in the past, but Hermione was starting to realise that the past was a place where you left things, like her relationship with Ron, her friendship with Ginny, her parents, her old hopes and dreams.

"Are you plonkers? Didn't I tell you that we're friends now?" Pansy raised a perfect eyebrow in Hermione's direction.

"Do you pluck your eyebrows?" Hermione asked, out of nowhere.

What was the matter with her? Hermione thought. She was all over the place. She needed a drink. A strong one.

"Pluck? Is that some weird Muggle thing?" Pansy looked horrified.

"Yes," Hermione laughed. "They use tweezers," at the blank look on Pansy's face, she mimicked the shape with her fingers. "And pull out the hair to shape them as they like."

"That's fucking barbaric." Pansy looked aghast. "There's a beauty charm for it. I can teach you later if you like."

Never one to turn down new knowledge, Hermione nodded.

"Great, and then we can sort out what on earth is going on with your hair," Pansy added. "I've got some curl-defining potions that I'd love to try on you."

"Are you serious right now?" Hermione asked, unsure how she was discussing a beauty regimen with Pansy Parkinson of all people.

"Serious as Dragon Pox," Pansy said, staring at her seriously. "I've decided we are friends now, which means I will now be improving your appearance so that I am not embarrassed to be seen with you. It's entirely selfish on my part."

"Thanks," Hermione wasn't sure that she meant that at all, but it wasn't as though she had so many friends that she could just throw them away. "I guess."

Pansy nodded regally as though she was absolutely due thanks and Hermione wanted desperately to rub her face because this was literally the strangest year of her life and that was saying something.

Theo and Draco slid into the last seats by the door just before McGonagall was about to start the opening lecture to the seventh and eighth year Transfiguration class. Theo had needed to relieve some of his tension about Hermione right into Draco's mouth.

His mate was an absolutely perfect cocksucker and Theo loved having the wizard before him on his knees. It had been a little challenging finding a storage closet that was big enough with Theo's new bulk, but once they had, Theo's mood improved immeasurably. Now everytime Draco absentmindedly licked his lips Theo's cock twitched. He wondered if the little menace was doing it intentionally. He smiled and considered all the ways that he could punish him for that later when they were back in Draco's dorm room.

Eyes flicking up to the front of the room, Theo was both pleased and concerned to see Pansy sitting next to Hermione. The girls seemed comfortable enough with one another and Theo wondered how the fuck that had happened so quickly. What was Pansy's secret to earning Hermione's friendship, or at least acceptance, so easily? Pansy had been far more of a bitch to Hermione over the years then he had ever been.

Bloody witches were giving him a headache. They made no sense.

Pansy had disappeared five minutes before class was dismissed supposedly to use the loo, but hadn't returned when class was over. Hermione didn't know why she felt a little disappointed about that. Had she really wanted to walk down to dinner with Pansy Parkinson? Clearly there was something very wrong with her. Hermione hadn't wanted to go to dinner after Transfiguration and had paused in the hall, considering just heading up to her room.

She wasn't really hungry, although she rarely was these days. She'd barely made progress on improving her eating habits after the war and now everything with her parents and Ron made it hard to muster even the slightest desire for food.

Nott brushed past her and for once didn't say anything weird to her about her eating habits, but sweet Circe the smell of him. How did he manage to smell so bloody good all the time? His egyptian musk and sweat smell assaulted her brain with visions of how good it would feel to press her face into his neck and get a deep inhale of that masculine scent.

There had to be something wrong with her, she was supposed to be avoiding him, not wanting to get closer. Maybe she was sick, she probably needed to eat. She was definitely dehydrated, her mouth felt dry.

Before she realised what she was doing she was trailing after Nott and Malfoy as they walked to the Great Hall, just far enough behind them that she hoped they weren't aware. Nott's laughter at something that Malfoy had said made Hermione inexplicably sad. She didn't even know when the last time that she'd laughed was.

She was sad, he could feel it radiating off her. Theo hated it. He wanted to turn back around and give her all the love and support that she so clearly needed, but she hadn't liked him spoiling her so he was going to play a little harder to get and trust that the mate bond would start to pull her to him.

He hoped he wasn't making a terrible mistake. He tried to keep his body lithe and relaxed, but his fists were clenched at his sides.

Hermione sat with the first and second years and listened to them ramble on about their first week of classes. She half-heartedly picked at her food as she tried to let their excitement wash over her. She missed those days when she was so thrilled about every little thing, when she kept a dog-eared copy of Hogwarts: A History with her at all times and knew what her place and role was. She was one third of the Golden Trio, Gryffindor's Princess, future Head Girl. She was none of those things now.

She felt painfully empty. Maybe she should just take Harry up on his offer and go to France. What was keeping her here at Hogwarts after all?

Her eyes went over to the Slytherin table against her will and caught the light shining on chestnut curls. Deep laughter carried over the chaos of the Great Hall and Hermione didn't understand how she could be so aware of him across the room.

She sighed and angrily stabbed her overcooked vegetables with a fork.

The dreams were so vivid that they felt real. The kisses down Hermione's neck and the hands that roamed over her body that was completely naked for some reason in the dream. The light scrape of a beard over the skin of her breasts caused her to moan from the pleasurable sensation. A finger slid inside her mouth and she sucked on it without thinking, the sensation sending a tingle down her spine and an ache between her legs.

"Please," she begged breathlessly, not sure exactly what she was asking for. She just knew that she needed a nameless something urgently. "Please."

The hands of her invisible lover continued travelling all over her skin, soft lips kissing her everywhere, the scrape of the beard, the heat of each exhale driving her out of her mind with desire. No one had ever touched her like this nor held her like this when she was awake. The wetness between her legs was uncomfortable. She needed something, needed it desperately. She whimpered.

"Shhh," a husky masculine voice in her ear whispered. "I'll take care of you, I'll always take care of you, if you let me." The fingers slipped between her legs, sliding between her folds and gently teasing, but Hermione needed more and she needed it desperately. She moved her hips trying to chase the sensation.

A soft laugh in her ear was accompanied by a kiss and nibble to her earlobe and Hermione shivered from the sensation. She could never have imagined such a thing would feel so good.

"Such a needy little thing you are," the voice that she could almost recognise murmured into her ear. "I'm going to feast between your legs until you don't remember your name and then I'm going to make you mine." Hermione wanted that, she wanted that so intensely. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she was a virgin and to be gentle with her.

But then one of his thick calloused fingers slid inside of her fully and curved. The sensation causing her to jolt and cry out, "Oh fuck!"

Hermione was wide awake and panting in her dorm room. She was alone. Her hands were in her knickers and she couldn't believe how soaked they were. She pulled them out, embarrassed at herself. She'd never had such a realistic sex dream before.

"Oh fuck," she whispered again into the darkness.