Chapter 62

Draco observed Hermione as she stood across from him. Her clothes would not provide any convenient handholds if it should come to hand-to-hand. Her hair was in a tight braid down her back. It went against his grain to contemplate it, but it would provide a tool to control her. The question was whether she would allow him to get that close. Not without paying for it dearly.

Looking down at himself, he shrugged out of his jacket. It would provide too many possibilities to be a detriment to him. With a less experienced opponent, the flare of the jacket could be used to obfuscate his hand movements, but Hermione wouldn't fall for that. She was much too experienced and the trick easy to see through. He would have to up his game. Waving his wand at his shoes, he changed the soles to a patterned rubber instead of the sleek leather it had been. He would need every inch of grip and be sure-footed. She was wearing sneakers already. Mirroring each others' movements, both stepped around the arena and incrementally closer to each other.

"No backing out now." Hermione remarked, a smirk on her face as the ward circle snapped closed around them and towards the ceiling. When it reached its final extension, it would be a dome. Only visible for a moment, it flashed a light blue and then became transparent. As she took in his lithe, sure movement, her adrenaline spiked. Sounds became sharper, her vision clearer. A light tingling in her extremities had her giddy and eager to move. She wasn't sure that this was the right move to make, but now she'd taken the risk. Everything else she'd attempted had failed. Maybe they needed this. The high-pitched whine of a stun spell was her only warning, pulling her out of her musing. Ducking, she dove behind cover, keeping on the move. Unlike with Blaise, she wouldn't be able to stand still with Draco. Blaise liked to stay stationary for a moment, set some traps and move. Draco didn't. He was constantly on the move, making him a harder target. His traps as a result were not as complex, but they still packed a punch. The difference was that Draco had more than enough power to use this tactic, while it would lead to Blaise tapping out much too soon and needing to seek a direct, physical confrontation.

She was a mix between the two. Her methodical mind recoiled from this hit-them-hard approach. It lacked elegance and finesse. While her traps took a moment longer to set up, they were not as easy to avoid or escape from. Draco's had the advantage that he could set more than she could in the same timeframe and while they were easier to avoid and disarm, they often only had to hit once to inflict major damage. She could see the allure, especially if you were outnumbered, but had power on your side.

Keeping her wand up, she lightly stepped along her chosen path in cover, her ears straining to pick up the slightest noise betraying Draco's location. He was good though. From time to time she thought she had his location, sneaking into position, only to discover that no one was there. After the third time, she took a moment to analyse the situation and swished her wand to reveal any spells. A smirk stretched over her face in appreciation. Very clever of him. She hadn't seen this trick from him before. It was a small spell and it was only designed to give an illusion of a step or a creak of the floor. Very good for distraction. In his bouts with Blaise they'd never been employed to her knowledge, simply because they played hard and fast. Careful stalking and setting up of the playing field on neither of their minds. The pace of their match was very different though. She came back towards the side of the arena she'd started in, having made a full circle. Tension ran through her, but her muscles moved lithe and smooth. It was invigorating and a part of her was sad that this made her feel alive. It used to be that a new book or discovery gave her this same feeling. It still did, but not to this degree.

Deciding to take a chance, she hoisted herself onto the top of her platform, abandoning the cover of the ramps. It would allow her to get a better overview of the arena and possibly spot her prey. Crouched and ready, she took in the arena, looking for any hint of movement. On various ramps, small, purple orbs rose on stalks, emitting sparks of lightning. Cursing, she slid down the ramp and sought cover again, as the stalks shot beams at her last location. Smart. He'd denied her the high ground. Working her way to one of the locations of the orbs, she tried to find out how the orbs worked, so that she could either disable it or use it for her own purposes. A tingle at the back of her neck told her she was no longer alone. Twirling, she went on the offensive at once. Her aggressive approach seemed to catch him off guard. Smiling grimly, she pressed her advance. With a frown she watched him retreat. Chancing a look behind him, she felt no traps waiting for her there. What was he playing at? Letting her guard down a small amount, she intentionally let one of his spells graze her shoulder. The hex barely stung…Rage inundated her, drowning out any playfulness she'd started this with.

"I am not weak!" She hissed, her demon rising immediately in the wake of her rage. As a result, the spell she sent his way shot him over the ramp behind him and into the middle of the arena. Moving after him, she left subtlety behind and simply snuffed out the orb constructs she'd been fascinated by only a moment ago.

"I thought you were different. How foolish I was to believe that you actually saw me for me. Instead you are like all the others!" Her voice had changed to the lower registers when her demon rose higher, but she didn't care. It spoke the truth. A truth she often didn't want to face. That all her friends and family treated her with kid gloves. Like something broken that would shatter into a million pieces with a wrong word or move. Draco hadn't done that. At least until now. He was like all the others. Leaving her wand in its holster, she raised her hand with a scream. Flames streamed from her hand, directly at Draco. A deep tone rung through the gym and she felt something in her ears pop. Draco stood across from her, his hand raised against her fire and it seemed to vanish into it. As if sucked straight out of the air.

"There she is. All passion and no restraint." He sneered. With a roar, she raised both hands this time. An inferno burning toward him. He didn't flinch or move. All he did was blow. Shivering she stumbled back as the air around her turned arctic, snuffing out her flame. Shivering she noted that the sweat on her arms had frozen solid. For the first time since she'd welcomed the demon inside her, she wasn't sure she would be able to win a fight. Her hands shook and her stomach churned. Old fears reared their ugly heads.

"All that intellect in your head goes out the window the moment you give in to it, doesn't it? You become a creature of instinct. Something is a threat, so you hurt it until it dies or goes away. No true planning or moderation in reaction." He shook his head in disappointment and she flinched from his words, as they were only too true. She also recoiled from the deep blackness in his eyes. A blackness that had taken them over wholly. No indication remained of the silver orbs she'd learned to love. Only inky, swirling orbs remained that seemed supremely pitiless.

"Maybe. But at least I will fight with all that I am and not hide behind flimsy excuses!" She shot back.

"Excuses? This is going to be interesting. Please, do tell." He chuckled. She felt the temperature in the room drop and as a result her flames licked higher in an effort to keep her warm. Ice formed on the windows.

"You had so many opportunities to do something during the war. Before it even. You never took it. Always ready to defend dear daddy and his outdated beliefs. Never thinking for yourself. You said my hitting you made you think. That is all it did. You thought, but you didn't act! Not when they treated your father like a servant, not when they branded you like cattle and gave you an impossible task. Not even when they almost killed your mother!"

With the last, she finally hit a nerve. A pulse went through him and in a ring around him. The temperature dropped even further. Ice crystals danced in the air between them.

"You have no idea what you are talking about. Do you know what I am?!" His voice seemed to echo in on itself. Hers dropped in tone, but seemed to multiply. His however…its echo evoked a great expanse of emptiness. Instead of answering, she defiantly raised her chin.

"I am the void, you ignorant little girl. The cold emptiness in between all things. And I am always hungry." A new rush of arctic cold air enveloped her. Countering it with her flame, she was disconcerted to see how the ice he wielded seemed to eagerly consume her fire and was building on itself. While fear niggled at her, she refused to be cowed. She'd survived worse. She would not let this stop her. Bracing herself, she pushed back, letting the flames run free. She'd only done this once. The warehouse she'd been using for her experiments and the neighbouring buildings had gone up in flame. The rooms around her melted by the heat. The concrete reduced to toxic dust. Not here. Pushing her arms forward, she noted with glee that her flames licked closer and closer to him. Until he raised his own arms and braced. Grunting she planted her feet, as pressure ground on her. She wouldn't give in. It wasn't in her nature to give in. Their eyes met, their arms straining to keep the pressure steady. To hold and possibly overpower the other. Screaming she pushed everything she had into her attack. He wouldn't defeat her. She'd sworn to herself she'd never be vulnerable again. She would fight with her all!

A deep tone, more felt than heard, rung from the point of contact between them and with a flash, they were thrown back. The backlash overloading the dome. Sitting up, dazed, he noted that the dome flickered and died. Closing his eyes and breathing deep, he sat up and dusted off his pants while rising. She got to her feet across from him, her eyes still burning and her hands back in attack pose.

"It's over, Hermione." He shook his head with a sigh. He'd known this wasn't a good idea. They hadn't resolved anything and possibly only gotten farther apart. Most of the ramps were destroyed by the shockwave. At least they seemed to be the only casualties. It could have been much, much worse.

"Nothing's over! Stand and fight!" She ordered. Her voice still the deep multitude of her demon. Shaking his head, he turned to her, his hands at his sides.

"Yes, it is over. The dome has collapsed and I will not be responsible for any damage to campus and the students here."

She took a step back, her demeanour unsure. She was a creature of pure emotion in these moments and ridiculously easy to read. Normally Hermione would at least try to keep a neutral expression at times. Not now though.

"This is a trick!" She hissed. Sighing he shook his head and started to clean up the destroyed ramps. Some of them might be salvageable. Blaise had asked to get new ones anyway. As such, not a total loss. Her hand on his arm turned him around none too gently.

"Do not ignore me!" Rage still danced in her eyes along with the flames.

"It seemed to me the only way to avoid a confrontation with you. Apparently I was wrong. You need to assert control Hermione and you need to do it right now. In your current condition, you are endangering everyone on campus. If you go on a rampage, I will survive. You will not be able to hurt me as you want to. We are evenly matched. The only ones you will hurt are innocents. Please do get your hissy fit under control and assist me. If you cannot do that, then leave."

Unsure she took several steps back. Looking around, she took in the destruction around them. It was miniscule compared to what she'd done before. Still…he was right. Looking back to him, she saw no signs of his demon. How had he managed to put it back so quickly? So easily?

"How do you do it?" She asked, wincing. It was a weakness of her demon. No subtlety. Everything was blurted out without a filter.

"I am in command of it, not the other way around. At all times. It takes discipline and training, as well as knowledge. My entire upbringing was geared towards me accepting a part of it into me. You have none of those benefits. Half-knowledge, conjecture and rumours allowed you to attempt the ritual and not die or be subsumed. Through sheer dumb luck and circumstance you haven't killed anyone by accident. So far. Unless you accept that you made a grave mistake and give it your all to correct it by allowing me to teach you what I can, the day will come when you will snap and kill innocents. It has happened before, trust me. It will be even harder for you. If I am correct, then discipline is complete anathema to the thing you invited in."

"I was not wrong to look for protection!" She screamed back, infuriated by his calm.

"Maybe not. Your solution however was! How often have you come close to harming your friends? Your family? Did it ever whisper to you in those moments of weakness?" Her face blanching and paling was answer enough. "That is what makes it so dangerous. If not managed correctly, that voice, that whisper will guide you to horrendous acts. Not to satisfy you, but it. Make no mistake, Hermione. The power inside us is as much a curse as it is a blessing. Unlike us though, the only thing that it wants is to consume. If it should ever overwhelm either of us, we are a bigger threat than Voldemort ever was. My family knows how to deal with me in such a case. Do you have a back-up plan? Or are Aurors supposed to throw themselves at you until you can be overwhelmed or killed?"

"That won't be necessary, since it won't happen." She sneered. Disappointed he sighed.

"You cannot say that for sure, Hermione. The fact that you never thought about such an eventuality when you had back-up plans for your back-up plans during the war should concern you. It concerns me greatly. It indicates to me that either you are overconfident in your assumptions of being able to handle it or, what is more disturbing, that you do not want to curb it in any way. That you are prepared to pay any price, even innocent lives, to leave it free reign."

"You hypocritic little shit. Innocent lives?! Rich coming from you! What was I? On your precious manor floor when that lunatic bitch carved her way to happiness on my arm?! Such control you had, didn't you? Staring at me, crying like a baby, but not helping! Is that the control I should strive for?"

Both stared at each other, breathing hard. She wanted him to lash out. To attack. To show her that he was not as perfectly in control. That he wasn't better than her. His hands fisted, his nose flaring as he took another deep breath. Glee shone in her eyes. Here it came. All those high and mighty words and he was just like her.

"I will not dignify that with a response. Call me when you have calmed down." He pressed out between gritted teeth and turned his back. Once more her leash snapped. Screaming, she barrelled into his back, taking him down. Rolling across the floor, they grappled. Both their faces a grimace. It wasn't elegant, it wasn't graceful and none of their training had anything to do with what they were doing right now. She only wanted to elicit any reaction from him. Anything genuine and not the careful mask he presented to the world. He was trying to hold on to that mask with everything he was. And show her that control was superior. No matter that he'd lost control quite some time ago. Rolling and grunting, she managed to get the upper hand astride him. Slamming his hands to the floor, panting, she was right in his face.

"Go on. I can see you wanting to lash out. Let go. For once, let go. I am not the fragile flower everyone takes me for. I can take it." She hissed and taunted him. Sitting up, he used his superior strength to catch her arms behind her back. His molars working hard.

"I did let go once. I almost killed my own mother. Yes, you could survive if I did, but what would be the point? What?!" He screamed right in her face. "What would it prove? That I am just as broken as you?" She flinched from those words, but he didn't let her go. "Oh no you don't!" He growled and shook her, when she tried to avoid his eyes.
"You wanted this and now you will get it. I knew I was broken long ago. I will never be able to relinquish control completely. I will always have to be on guard. And. So. Do. You!"

Breathing hard they stared at each other. He didn't like hurting her like this. He could see the pain in her eyes, but it was important that she finally accepted that she indeed was broken to some extent. From what he'd seen in her home and experienced in their interactions, she tended to pretend that she'd gotten out of the war hurt, but ultimately undamaged.

"Face it, Hermione. We're both damaged. You had a chance to heal without this crushing need for control, but you wanted a short-cut. The short-cut now demands that you know yourself completely. Even the dark, nasty pieces of yourself you prefer to ignore or pretend you do not have. It will use any opening it gets. Everything it wants, it takes. No concern is spared for others. It has no conscience. It demands respect and you need to realise that you are not in complete control of it! You need to…"

With a mad scrabble she managed to get away from him. Scooting away on her knees, looking more like a frightened, cornered animal than the proud woman he knew and loved. The tears in her eyes were stabs at his heart.

"Shut up!" She screamed, her voice raw. By the tremble in her body, he could see the struggle she had going on inside her. Her demon wanted out, but she wanted to prove to him that she was in control. It was barely working and this was what concerned him. It needed her to falter only for an instant. He remained silent more because he wanted to give her an opportunity to assert her control and not because he'd been cowed into silence by her outburst.

Clutching her arms about herself, she struggled with the power she'd freely allowed inside her. Seeing it as her only salvation. For the first time, she truly examined it and saw it for what it was. A dangerous entity that knew no mercy or morals. Always hungering for more and wanting out. She'd kept it at bay with meditation and avoiding triggers, but it had always been a war of attrition raging inside her. A war she was losing. She'd felt it rise more and more during the last few months before her move to the US. Being away from anything that reminded her of the war, except for Draco, had helped her to win back ground. But it was patient. It had time and it was winning. She'd shied away from addressing this. Her ego and conscience not willing to admit to failure. She tried to find those dark, nasty places he'd spoken of. Deep down, she found what she was looking for. After it had all been over and they'd started to rebuild, she'd been unable to find a place of peace or safety. Even at Harry's home or in Ron's arms, she'd constantly felt in danger. Those she professed to trust and love most, she did not trust to be able to keep her safe. As a girl she'd always believed in looking for the best in people, but the war had turned it around. She'd only seen weaknesses. And she knew when that shift had been cemented and she needed to know.

"You didn't help when I was in that cursed drawing room of yours. Maybe because you were afraid or you feared for your parents. The consequences they would face. But what about that moment at Hogwarts? You'd stayed at school, you re-directed death eaters away from students when you could. But when your father told you to come to him, you did. Why? It was obvious you didn't want to. Why would you do it? I'd seen what you'd lived with. I'd seen that it wasn't you and that you could be someone different. Why did you choose to go back?"

The deep betrayal in her voice surprised him, but it was also one of the hardest moments of his life. He didn't know that he'd had any witnesses to his small betrayal of the death eaters when they'd invaded the school. Snape and he had assigned safe zones throughout the castle for the students. Casting subtle spells, he'd managed to herd younger students there and seen to it that the death eaters stayed away from them. Either by misdirection or by casting imperio. He'd constantly expected to be discovered and punished for it. But he wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he hadn't at least tried. When Hagrid had carried a lifeless Harry into the courtyard, his hopes had turned to ashes. He'd seen Hermione and Ron about the castle, lifting his spirits a bit. All that had been dashed. His father beckoning him to their side had been like a broken record in his ears. All the rebellion had leaked from him. He'd believed that he'd never be able to free himself from the yoke of his father and name. A small part had been fed up and had been prepared to die with the others of his peers. A bigger part had been concerned for his mother. What would become of her if he stayed. What that demented aunt of his would do. Her eyes had been big, luminous and begging. At the time, he had assumed for him to return to their side. Later she'd told him that she'd been hoping that he would stay where he was, as she'd been the only one who'd known that Harry was still alive.

"You." He rasped, turning from her. His fists clenched. She stared at him, unbelieving.

"Me?" She whispered. Turning back, his eyes were filled with passion.

"Yes, you. I looked to the others among our year. Most of them would have nothing to fear, provided they bent the knee. Not you though. You didn't fit in their fantasy. You were too powerful. Too accomplished. Staying with you would have branded me a traitor and I would have been killed. Returning meant I would have been able to work from within to possibly save you. Or, at the very least, afford you mercy." His throat hurt, just giving voice to his thoughts from so many years ago. She seemed stunned. She wasn't fooled by his wording. He would have killed her if Riddle had won. And she agreed with him. If she'd been captured, it would have been mercy. It floored her though that he'd been that aware of the realities back then. She'd been stubbornly in denial. Prepared to fight to the death. A death she doubted now would have been afforded her. Making a public example of her would have been much more in style with Riddle's need for adulation and showmanship.

Swallowing and trying to get her breathing back under control, she looked to him. His entire frame was taut with tension.

"If it had come to it, I would have welcomed your mercy. And been thankful for it." She tried to reassure. His head snapped around, his loose hair flaring. "You look like your father." She whispered under her breath, but judging by his flinch, he heard it.

"I am not him!" He growled and fled from the gym. Blaise was waiting outside, but he waved him off. Taking long strides, he made his way to the parking lot, got into his Bentley and drove off. He'd never even considered driving recklessly, but he came close today. Within moments he was within the wizarding district, parked the car and walked. People got out of his way the moment they caught sight of his face. His steps led him to the nearest shop that offered what he needed. The cheerful tinkle of the bell above the door only grated on his nerves further. Sitting in one of the chairs without waiting for an invite to do so, he faced his reflection in the mirror. His face was flushed, his eyes blazing and his hair ruffled. A young man with vivid blue hair and a swagger to his step came into view.

"Cut it all off." Draco ordered, yanking the silver ring he usually had in his hair to hold it back. His long hair fell to the middle of his back. Raising an eyebrow, the young man took a brush and brushed the hair to fall cleanly.

"Really, sugar? I know ladies who would kill for hair like yours. To cut it all off seems more like a crime." His tone and mannerisms were slightly effeminate and a bit over the top. It suited him.

"Yes, cut it. As close as possible." Draco insisted. Pouting a bit, the young man, who's name tag identified him as TJ, put away the brush, took hold of Draco's head and turned it from side to side. His face a study in concentration.

"No, love. If I give you a buzz you'll look like a psychopath or mass murderer. I can cut off those luscious curls of yours, but no buzz cut from me."

Grumbling Draco fisted his hands. He didn't really care.

"Fine. Just cut it short." He growled. TJ smiled brightly and with a flourish summoned a cloak to cover Draco's front.

"Oh sweetheart. No worries there. Sit back, relax and let TJ do his magic." Whether he sat back was not a question, as TJ firmly but gently manipulated Draco's head however he wanted it. Closing his eyes, Draco let him work. The snipping of the scissors had him open his eyes. TJ met his gaze.

"Last chance to change your mind, sugar."

Setting his shoulders, Draco leaned back.

"Go ahead." He directed. TJ shrugged and started to cut. During the entire procedure, TJ kept up a stream of conversation. At first attempting to drag Draco into it, but since he didn't respond, TJ mostly talked to himself. TJ didn't seem to mind and was happily chattering along.

"…and you should have seen Christine! Gosh that woman can cry like a waterfall. Doesn't really help that her complexion isn't the best for it. I'd told her to come to me if she wanted a different colour for her hair, but did she listen to me? No. And there we were. Her being upset that her head looked like an overripe tomato because her boyfriend liked redheads and me trying to fix that hideous dye job. We get that kind of stuff all the time. Women wanting to look more like the women their men prefer and a few weeks or months later coming to get anything that is as far away from it as possible. As if getting a new hair-cut will solve your relationship or change the foundation of personality." He tutted. Draco froze. TJ noted it immediately.

"Ah. Spill, sugar. Which one are you?" He continued to style the hair of his client. It was true beauty to work with. Well cared for, strong and smooth. He could do anything with this. Patiently he waited for the gorgeous guy to answer. Either he would or he wouldn't. TJ didn't mind either way.

"She said I look like my father." Draco was stunned that he'd answered. TJ shrugged.

"So? You're gorgeous. She should be a happy woman."

"I…dislike my father." He'd wanted to say hate, but was surprised to find that he couldn't bring himself to use that word. Not even to a stranger.

"Well. That does change things a bit. Not to worry. I'll fix you up good." TJ winked at Draco in the mirror. For a time, silence reigned between them.

"I don't want to be like him, but I fear with my upbringing that it is a vain hope." Draco admitted. He had no idea why he was telling TJ this, but maybe it was the fundamental decision of his to break with tradition and cut his hair.

"Pft. Don't worry about that, sugar. You'll never guess what my old man does for a living."

Draco waited for a beat, but it seemed as if TJ did want him to hazard a guess.

"Potioneer?" He tried. He could see that a potioneer's son might develop an interest in hair styling, if he helped make hair potions. Laughing TJ shook his head.

"Oh, good guess, but no. Daddy dearest is an accountant and a devout believer. Not the real church, mind you. Some whack-job religious group that calls themselves a church. Not sure if their pastor actually ever went to seminary. From the moment I was born I was bombarded with religious sermons. At home and at school. Deep bible belt, sweetheart. When I realised I was gay and that my dad's god's love did not extend to 'deviants like me', I bailed. Family does not have to define you. If it's good, then they can teach you a lot, but if it's bad, they often unfortunately can only teach you what not to do. Most of what my parents taught me I left behind. What I learned about accounting though stood me in good stead." He spread his arms, encompassing the salon. Draco was impressed. He doubted that TJ was any more than twenty-five and he still had managed to open his own shop. And it wasn't just a hole in the wall, but a sophisticated space. Draco's sensibilities would not have allowed him to enter anything else. Call him elitist, but he had a certain sense of style and was used to only getting the best.

"That's very wise." Draco said, a small smile on his lips. TJ chuckled.

"That's me. Wise beyond my years. Being a stylist these days is only partly styling. At least half is being a shrink. I should get a diploma or something. Charge double."

"Wise and smart. Tell me when you have it. I'll invest." Both chuckled.

"Hmm. I might consider it. Now that I have an investor, it might even be worth it. Let's try." TJ cleared his throat. "What seems to trouble you today?" His voice was smoother, but there was true concern in it. Draco stared into his own eyes.

"I fear that I am too much a product of my family. That this, my hair getting cut, is just the last in a long line of useless, ineffective rebellions. Tradition has dictated my life since I was born. I fear that those traditions have ruined any chance I might have had." He whispered, not truly speaking to TJ, but to himself. Maybe it was the fact he had to look at himself while saying this, which made people telling their stylists so many secrets. Humming, TJ leaned his head to the side, snipping a few strands.

"Traditions are funny things. We like them. Gives us a sense of stability. But after a time, they seem restrictive instead of something to look forward to. Take Christmas for example. As children its this magical event, once a year, when everyone comes together to celebrate and have a good time. As you get older, you might still enjoy the time as a whole, but the actual celebrations with family? Tradition would demand that I drop everything come December twentieth and return home to Alabama. To that I say, Hell's to the no. I changed tradition. Now I instead start on my decorations on that day in earnest and spend Christmas with the people that I love and who love me for who I am. Tradition is static by definition, but that doesn't mean that we can't change it from time to time. Doesn't mean that the core of the tradition has to change; spending the day with your loved ones." He smiled, thinking about the way he'd re-interpreted Christmas and his family's traditions. It worked well for him and had banished the home sickness he'd felt the first Christmas he'd spent alone and away. By now he even invited his sisters, who were the only ones of his family he could actually stand being around. Only two of them ever responded. Looking to his client, he saw that his explanation seemed to have kicked off some deep thoughts. Humming to himself, he kept snipping away.

xXx

Hermione had stayed in the gym and had a good cry. Something she rarely allowed herself. However she decided that right now, she deserved to indulge herself. Draco had been right. On so many counts and she'd been stubborn and blind. And mean. Traits she normally did not exhibit. Another sign that it was influencing her more and more. Hiccupping, she dried her eyes, trying to take a deep breath. She'd felt sorry for herself long enough. Rising to her feet, she summoned a tissue and blew her nose. Wallowing never helped anything. She needed to think and make a plan.

Upon stepping outside, she was met with Blaise, whose face was a study in concern. She gave him a small, sad smile.

"Hey." She croaked, her voice still thick with the tears she'd spent. Worried he stepped closer.

"Are you OK? Draco tore out of here, not saying a thing."

Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes.

"Yes, I would suppose so. I…we had a fight. I'm not sure whether it made anything better or worse." Her shoulders slumped a little. She'd been so sure that this had been the right course of action. Blaise's hand on her shoulder had her look up. He gave her a small smile.

"Give him a bit to cool down. Go to him. Talk. He's been wanting to talk to you. I normally wouldn't break his confidence, but in this case, I think it's needed. You've been dancing around each other for weeks now. You helped me with Jane, let me help you with him."

"That is kind of you. I'll…I need to go home for now. Work a bit, clear my head. But I'll talk to him. I promise." She patted his shoulder and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Have a nice weekend."

Worried Blaise watched her leave but was at a loss what he could have done different.

She made her way to her office, changed and then made her way home. All the time she kept her head lowered and her mind was racing. What had happened to her plan? She'd wanted to fight him a bit and in the beginning, all had gone as intended. And then…then she'd discovered that he wasn't using his full strength to fight her. Groaning, she closed her eyes, while shouldering open the door to her building. She had snapped, that was what had gone wrong. Everyone had treated her with kid gloves after the war. Especially Harry and Ron. And everyone took their example from them. She'd worked so hard to pull herself back together to who she'd been before the war and it felt as if no one thought she'd done so. That she remained the emaciated wreck she'd been. It was one of the few things that would almost certainly send her into a rage. Draco hadn't known this and she guessed it was only natural for him to pull his punches. After all, they'd never sparred before and his sensibilities wouldn't allow him to go at her full throttle. She should have made that clear before they'd started. She should have done many things. Like not lose it completely. It only brought it home how right he was. She needed his help, but she feared that she'd burned that bridge. She knew how much he disliked his father. Held him responsible for all that had befallen him and robbing him of a childhood.

Opening her door, she kicked off her shoes, not caring where they landed. Normally she would take them off, undoing the laces and setting them next to the others in the rack by the door. She couldn't bring herself to care right now. Leaving a trail of clothes, she made her way to her bathroom. She needed a shower and holding her head under the rush of water from the showerhead had always been soothing. Something she needed badly right now. Turning on the water, she felt the warm rush and sighed. Washing slowly, she let her thoughts drift. She'd been to a yoga studio to learn meditation techniques, but at times this felt better than any technique she'd learned from the guru. After minutes of just standing under the water, she reached for her shampoo. She was calmer now. Tending to her hair, she once again thought about the problem of approaching Draco. The situation had not gotten better. She'd chosen the wrong approach. Not because of him, but because of her. There had been much truth in what he'd told her. Uncomfortable truths for her, but truths nonetheless. Now there was the question of what she would do with those.

Getting out of the shower, she dried and sat, wrapped in a towel on her bed. Massaging lotion into her arms and legs, she stopped when she reached her arm. He'd given her a priceless gift and she'd thanked him for it by being a bitch. Hanging her head, her wet hair a curtain around her face, she admitted to herself that she wasn't as healed as she'd been pretending to. She was damaged, just as he'd said. It was daunting, but maybe she would remain damaged for the rest of her life. Jane and Adele had hinted at this, she now realised. They'd again and again pointed out that the experiences she'd had wouldn't disappear. That something could always bring it back. Time, therapy and perspective however would dull the impact of those flash-backs. They would never be memories to be shrugged off, but a knee jerk reaction of lashing out from her side would become much more unlikely.

Dressing, she went to her kitchen to make some tea. She had the entire weekend to come up with a plan, but that seemed much too long. She felt it necessary to act sooner rather than later. Dragging it out hadn't exactly helped the last time. Sitting in her favourite chair, her gaze fell to the book on her coffee table. It was the book Draco had bought at the auction. At the auction they'd agreed that she would come by his apartment to read it, but when he'd seen her give it a lingering look before leaving one evening, he'd given it to her. She'd read it that evening and had been so engrossed by it and wanted to know what happened next. The indulgent smile on his face then…it had made her heart soar and those butterflies take flight. Just thinking about it had her giddy. She wanted him to look at her that way again. Picking up the book, she also picked up the key he'd left. She hadn't moved it ever since he'd put it down. She'd hoped that he would collect it himself one day, but now she would just give it back to him. The book a good excuse to go to his apartment. At the very least, it would be a conversation starter. Straightening, she took a deep breath. At the door she chose her favourite high heels. They always made her feel pretty and a bit more confident. She was happy that she'd chosen to wear fitting clothes to go along with them. A demure, dark blue pencil skirt and a cream silk shirt. A dark blue trench coat went over it and she was out again. And this time she would actually talk to him. Not scream.

xXx

TJ was happy with the result. It wasn't too modern, but it wasn't boring either. He'd kept the top a little longer, while cutting it shorter at the temples and ears. It would allow gorgeous to style his hair in a variety of ways. Not to mention that when it was tousled he would look like sex on a stick. Not that he would mention that if his client asked.

"All done." He proclaimed, after giving the hair one last pass of his hand. He'd used a bit of hair product to style it. Stepping back, he watched his client. Not truly nervous, for he knew that he was good, but he wanted his client to like it. Said client turned his face left to right, taking in his new style.

"I like it." He at last responded. Not much enthusiasm, but TJ didn't take it personally. If wearing his hair long was normal for him, such a change might be a lot to work through. Especially the implications behind it.

"Good. Do you want me to pack you up some products? Hair gel, potions?" He asked, while removing the cape and swishing his wand to remove any loose hairs which might have fallen down the collar.

"No, thank you. I have some at home."

Draco rose and took himself in again. He barely recognised himself. TJ did know what he was doing and the haircut was modern and still…traditional in a way. Together they walked to the counter, where TJ was ringing up the haircut and Draco paid. Looking outside, he saw that clouds had moved in. Despite his step towards rebellion, they still reflected his mood and he found that he wanted to walk home to think.

"Can I leave my car out front?" He pointed to his Bentley. TJ whistled a little, but shook his head in the end.

"Sorry, sugar. While it would make for great advertisement that someone who drives that comes to my salon, the Guard will have it towed by midnight. I wouldn't mind, but the restaurant a few doors down puts out tables for outside dining and somehow convinced the city council to have all cars removed from the street by nine. Yours would remain longer, since it's nicer, but it would be towed in the end. Why don't you call a Fuber?"

"Fuber?" Draco asked, confused. TJ nodded and pointed to a card on his counter. A number in garish green with glitter on it greeted him, as well as Fuber again.

"Elf Uber. They pick you up by car or drive your car where you want it. For muggle traffic they can disguise themselves. They are making a killing for an antique car salesman. He's a muggle, so he doesn't know that they're all elves, but apparently they deliver his cars anywhere in the country in record time without a scratch. Swears by them."

"How do you know that?"

TJ took the card and pressed a dot on the back. A man in his sixties appeared, telling the same story TJ had just told Draco.

"They're smart. Asked him to do a promo for them. They magicked it into their cards. There are a few on here. I've used them a time or two myself, since I don't own a car. The trip I took with them to New York only cost me a hundred dollars. Much cheaper and comfortable than the bus or the train. Not to mention the apparition point fee. Pure robbery if you ask me. I like them and that's why I offered to have their card on display." He raised it again.

Draco retrieved his phone and saved the number.

"Please keep the card. I have the number saved now and I agree with you. Better to have the card here for you to hand out to others. I will give them a call outside. Thank you for your services."

"Happy to help, sugar." TJ winked.

Outside, Draco called the number and within moments a small elf stood next to him, taking in his car. Rubbing its hands, it turned to Draco.

"A beautiful vehicle, sir. Lobby will take good care. Where does sir want to go?"

"I wish to walk home, but was told my car would be towed if it remained here. Please drive my car home and kindly leave it parked in the garage. I have a spot reserved."

The elf nodded, requested the address and keys. Draco handed them over and watched as the elf got in. Even with magic to lift him, the elf could barely look over the dashboard. He seemed to know what he was doing though, as he set the signal and slowly weaved himself into traffic. Even if something should happen on the way, Draco wasn't too concerned. It was an experiment. If the service was as advertised, he would have to get in touch with whichever elf was in charge. The idea was brilliant and he would be happy to invest, if they could present him with a proper business plan. Turning away, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked home. Taking his time, he looked around, taking in the bustling wizarding district around him. People didn't pay him any mind. Some women, and men, looked at him with an appreciative glint, but that was it. The few times he'd braved Diagon Alley had been very different. Hostility raining down on him wherever he went. It went even so far that he was ignored in stores or openly told that his patronage wasn't wanted. Breathing deep, he let some of the tension go. Turning his thoughts to Hermione, he regretted leaving as he'd done. But that comment had cut deep. Especially since he'd had that moment earlier in the week. Maybe it had been time? He'd kept his hair long to please his mother, not because he felt that he owed it to tradition. His mother had lost so much and at the time it had been unclear whether his father would ever be released from Azkaban, so Draco hadn't had the heart to refuse. Times had changed and so had he. It was time to assert himself. He doubted that his mother would care overmuch. She was much more progressive than his father. Under her leadership, Malfoy Enterprises had made great strides in becoming a more modern company. And more profitable by far. Most of the older employees who'd fawned over Lucius had quickly shut up when it was clear that Narcissa wasn't a simple placeholder, but a savvy businesswoman in her own right.

No, Narcissa wouldn't mind and he had long ago stopped considering what Lucius might want. It had led him astray too often. Considering this, he wondered if there were other things that he should let go of. Was he too uptight? Too concerned with control, as Hermione had basically screamed at him? He was prepared to admit that his life was regimented, but it was necessary. It kept his demon in check. Theo liked order too, but even he'd commented on Draco's neatly organised desk. And living room. And wardrobe. Maybe he did have a problem. While letting go was out of the question, was keeping himself so much under control an overreaction? Possibly. He had never felt comfortable enough to experiment. He had safe spaces now which he'd warded to the hilt. Giving those around him warning, maybe it was time. Especially with Hermione close to reign him in if needed. They could both use this opportunity. Considering how ragged he felt, it would have to be as friends only. Attempting a relationship had been a mistake. He wasn't in any condition to give her what she needed. She deserved better and for a time he'd let himself be blinded and believing that he was enough or could be enough. Today was a rude awakening to the reality of things. He was still too broken to offer anything but a platonic friendship. It saddened him, but also bolstered his resolve. He would help Hermione to the best of his abilities, but a relationship like the one they'd been moving towards was out of the question at this time.

With a rumble the skies opened up. He didn't retrieve his wand to shield himself from the rain. What was the point? When it rained, it poured.

xXx

Hermione was standing in his living room letting her fingers run over the leather-bound books on his shelf. She'd never expected to find another who appreciated old books as much as she did. They had their issues, but they also had many things in common. They just had to work through it. She was prepared to go the long route for this. The night she'd slept in his bed had been one of the most relaxing she could remember. He had been so warm and solid. She'd felt safe with him. No spells on the doors or windows required. That more than anything had cemented her belief that their relationship was good for both of them. Especially when he'd bashfully admitted that he normally didn't sleep that long. It had been part of his apology when Blaise had rung them out of bed. She hadn't seen it as something that needed to be apologised for, but Draco saw it differently, since it hadn't left her time to become presentable. His words. She hadn't really cared. She preferred casual dress in the mornings and on weekends. It was also a guilty pleasure of dressing in his clothes. It made her feel feminine and dainty. Not to mention the way he looked at her. He tried to hide it, but she'd seen the hot, proprietary look in his eyes. It had thrilled her. She wanted that thrill back.

Looking to the stairs, she had to remind herself that they had to talk first and that she couldn't simply go upstairs and snuggle into his clothes. It was tempting though. Looking to the book in her hands, she wondered where he was. He should be home by now. Maybe he'd needed a bit of fresh air? Just as she was considering to come back later, she heard a key in the lock. Since she knew that she was the only other person having a key, she smoothed her free hand down her skirt and shook out her hair. Confident. Calm. They just had to talk it out. Calmly. She could do this. When he came into the living room barefoot, she was a bit confused, but her greeting stuck in her throat. Dear god. She hadn't thought he could get any more attractive, but she'd been wrong. His tousled, shorter hair that he'd slicked down carelessly had her fingers itching. It brought out his fine features and made his eyes pop even more.

Draco had left his shoes and sodden socks at the door. He didn't want to track water all the way through his apartment. His floors and carpets wouldn't thank him for it. Neither would his cleaning service. Slicking back his hair and feeling a bit weird when it didn't take him as long as usual, he dragged his other hand over his face to dry it a bit. He stopped in his tracks when he felt watched. Looking up, he froze when he saw Hermione. She seemed as surprised by him as he was by her.

"Hermione?" He closed the distance between them. She kept staring and he looked down himself. Apart from being drenched from the rain nothing was amiss. "Are you alright?"

"Yes…you…your hair…" She whispered, her hand lifting toward it. Going through it with his hand himself, a little self-conscious, he shrugged.

"I'd been thinking about cutting it for some time now." He only said. He didn't want to go into it why he'd felt that today was the day to do it. "Did you want to borrow a book?" His attempt to redirect the conversation seemed to work. With a shake of her head, she looked to the book in her hand.

"No. I was returning one, but that was more of an excuse." She admitted, biting her lip. He fisted his hands to restrain himself from reaching out. She had no idea what she was doing to him, did she? Looking up again, her eyes widened as she took him in more closely. All her prepared arguments fled her mind.

"Draco! You're soaked through. What happened?" Her hands went to his shirt, which stuck to his skin. His cold skin. She could feel the chill and rubbed his chest to chase it off. Groaning he took her wrists.

"It's fine, Hermione. Remember what's inside me. I don't really feel the cold." He tried to reassure and it was true. He could stand outside naked in a blizzard for hours and be fine.

"Nonsense! Your skin is ice cold!" She looked around for her purse. She'd left her wand in it. He held her closer to stop her movements. It was done in an effort to calm her, but it only brought them closer together. Again, both froze, their eyes meeting. Nothing had been addressed between them, but the pull, the chemistry was undeniable. His eyes darted from hers to her lips and back. He couldn't falter! He needed to remain strong. He had made a decision to help her train and be her friend. Nothing more. His resolve wavered when confronted with her, warm and supple in his arms. It was up to her. He was weak. Always had been when it came to her. She would have to step back. Her eyes fluttered closed and her head tilted towards him. When her lips touched his, an almost pained groan escaped him. She stepped away as if burned, touching her lips. They tingled and she wanted to step back into him again, but it seemed as if he didn't want the same.

"I'm sorry. I thought…never mind." She sighed. Taking her shoulders, he shook his head.

"No need to feel sorry. I shouldn't have taken advantage. I am weak where you are concerned. But what I said today is true, Hermione. I am damaged, broken. I am working on getting better, but I am far from being good enough…" Her lips on his stopped him. His needy sounds would have embarrassed him, if it wasn't Hermione doing this to him. She was stunned that he'd so easily admitted to her having so much power over him. Didn't he realise that it was the same with her? That she was weak where he was concerned? It had been weeks since she'd kissed him last and she'd missed it. The taste of him, the feel of him. Letting her hands roam, she felt his firm chest, strong shoulders and that delicious neck she'd snuggled into. Weaving her fingers through his shorter hair, she licked his lips, asking for him to open. She was lost to him. They could talk in the morning. Right now, she only wanted to be close to him. She had confidence in them. That they were able to work through this. And she was so hungry for him. Starved. They'd teased around this, but if she had her way, she wouldn't leave until morning. Or late afternoon. She had oh so many things she wanted to do to him. And for him to do to her. He pushed her away though. They were both breathing hard.

"Hermione." His voice was deeper, rougher and had a shiver run up her spine. She tried to close the distance again, but he held her away. His eyes moved away from hers, afraid he would drown in those honey golden orbs if he didn't. It was a mistake though. His wet clothes had soaked hers and now her blouse's silk clung to her breasts. Showing him in agonising detail what he'd only too briefly had caressed once. Growling, he fought with himself. He was close to snapping.

"You have to leave." He ground out, his eyes still fixed on her chest. He should look away. He was raised better. But he couldn't. One of her hands took his, moving it from her shoulder to the buttons of her blouse.

"I don't. I am as broken as you are. You said it yourself. You were right. But we could fix each other. I've never slept as well as I did with you." She whispered to him, watching his face. He seemed mesmerized. She popped the first button of her blouse. The sound he made was deep and appreciative. Almost like a purr. She'd never felt more feminine. Alluring and sexy. When he looked up, her breath hitched. His pupils were blown wide and there was a hunger in there that rivalled her own.

"Are you sure? Once we start, I will not be able to stop. I cannot kiss and say good night tonight, Hermione. If you stay…"

She didn't let him finish. Diving forward, she captured his lips. He crushed her to his chest, his hands no longer tentative. Licking her lips, she immediately granted him entry. Stumbling they moved back and bumped into the shelves of his library. It added to her excitement. She'd had this fantasy about him and a library for some time. Their hands were desperately tugging and tearing at each other's clothes. Why were there so many buttons? She mewled in protest when he took his hands off her. He only released her long enough to throw off his shirt, which landed with a wet plop somewhere to the right. Neither of them cared or looked. Their kisses carnal and hot, robbing them of breath, but neither willing to take a step back or slow down. He'd finally managed to get enough buttons undone on her blouse to pull it down and open. Licking, nipping and kissing, he made his way down to her neck and lower. Biting her lip, she managed to contain her moans. Her hands in his hair pushed him lower. Her nipples were begging for attention, her breasts heavy and tight. Pulling down her cups, he looked at them. The bra putting them on perfect display.

"Draco." She whimpered. Licking one, he suckled it, while he fondled the other. Their hips swaying toward the other. She felt so needy and empty. And she knew that he would fill her up so very well. She'd never seen it, but she refused to believe that he wasn't as perfect in that department as he was in all the others. Gasping, she stood on her toes when his fingers pinched and tugged at her highly sensitive nipple. It sent shockwaves straight to her clit. She needed more. She needed! Tugging at his hair, she tilted his head back.

"I need you." She moaned. Surging back to her, he kissed her deeply again. She was lost. He could do whatever he wanted, so long as he kept kissing her like this. The tearing of fabric had her lean back and look down. He'd ripped her skirt.

"Lean back." He ordered, his voice only a growl. It excited her. Normally an advocate for women's rights, she right now wanted nothing more than to please him. He knelt before her, pushing her ruined skirt apart. He rumbled in appreciation of her underwear and she was glad that she'd dressed her best, despite her not expecting this. Slipping a finger beneath the elastic of her garter belt, he let it slap back into place. The small sting only aroused her more.

"I like this." His fingers moved over her legs, hips and belly, but not where she wanted him most. She felt a small sting at her hip. He flung out his arm and she saw the remains of her underwear flying. Closing her eyes, she threaded her fingers through his hair, pushing him closer.

"Please." She rasped. She felt the puff of his breath at her belly button as he chuckled darkly. Shivering in anticipation she didn't move. Carefully he removed her skirt, having her step out of its remains. He held her left leg up and moved it back, until her high heel came to rest on a shelf and opening her up to him. She was completely open and exposed to him, but she felt no fear or embarrassment. The way his hands kept caressing her and the look on his face were more than enough assurance.

"So beautiful." He murmured. She felt a bit calmer and would have chuckled, but he leaned in and worshipped her. There was no other word for it. Gasping she grasped at his head and the shelf for something to hold on to. Biting her lip hard, she groaned deep, as he suckled on her clit. The tension inside her skyrocketed. He drove her higher and higher, her legs shaking. She wanted him to stop and slow down and at the same time to keep going. So very close. It had been so long.

"Draco! Close…I'm…" Her voice was breathy, her entreaty weak. She wasn't sure what she wanted next. He knew.

"Sing for me." He growled and she twitched as his breath hit her right there. As his words penetrated her lust filled fog, she looked down on him with a frown.

"Sing?" She whispered, breathing hard. Nodding he slowly inserted two of his fingers. Her legs trembled, her knees threatening to give out.

"Yes, my love. Sing for me. Let me hear you enjoy it." He went back and she almost fell down, her eyes crossing as he licked and suckled her so intimately. Without thinking about his instructions, but being so overwhelmed, a long, loud groan escaped her.

"Yes!" He groaned, returning to her with renewed vigour. Blushing, she no longer bit her lip to keep her moans inside. It seemed…dirty somehow. But sexy too. Uninhibited. He slung her legs over his shoulders when they again threatened to give out on her. It settled her better against the shelves and she rode his face unashamedly. Too lost in the pleasure he gave her to think about anything as pithy as propriety.

"God, Draco! I…ugh…I…need! Please!" She was on the edge. Could feel it just beyond, beckoning her. It would be glorious, but she needed more! Grunting in pleasure at her moaned entreaty, he softly rasped his teeth over her clit, sending her hurtling over the edge. Gasping, her body bowed sharply and her hands clawed into his hair and the shelf next to her. Groaning deep, she convulsed through the best orgasm she'd ever had and he kept licking and sucking at her through it, drawing it out. His fingers gliding in and out easily. Moaning she slumped back with a satisfied smile, drowsily letting her fingers glide through his hair. With a surprised squeak, she clamped to the shelf as he rose, her legs still over his shoulders. Staring down at him, she met his eyes over her pelvis.

"We're not close to done, love." Was the only warning she got. Then he settled in to feast. She was gasping for breath within moments, as he seemed to know exactly where to touch her to get her hot. God did he know how. All shyness forgotten, she moaned, she screamed, she begged, she pleaded. With each orgasm he wrung from her, she felt a deep emptiness inside her. An emptiness he could fill. Grasping at the shelves and books around her, she tried to ground herself. Uncaring that she was toppling the precious and valuable tomes to the floor around them.

"Please, Draco! I want…I want you. I need your…" She wasn't too proud to beg at this point.

"What do you want? Tell me what you need?" He demanded. Swallowing to clear her dry throat, she blushed again.

"I want…your cock." She said in a low voice. He chuckled and pumped his fingers, making her twitch and moan.

"What did you say, love? I couldn't hear you."

Before he could lower his head to continue his torture, she tugged his hair back hard.

"I want your cock, Draco. I want it deep. So very deep that I'll feel you days after. I want…" She didn't get to finish, as he let her slide down his torso catching her mouth in a hot kiss. She could taste herself all over him, but she found that she didn't care. Eagerly she met his kiss and reached for his slacks. He'd already opened the front to release some of the pressure. Moaning into their kiss she wrapped her hand firmly around him. He groaned into their kiss as she moved her hand, pumping him. He was so hard and big. She wanted it now! Pushing at the slacks, she managed to manoeuvre it past his hips. Good enough, since his glorious manhood was now on display. The tip was a deep red and glistening. Licking her lips, she wanted to taste it.

"Another time, love. Lie down and take everything off. Leave the heels." He ordered, working his slacks down his legs. Eagerly she complied. Within moments her blouse, bra and garter belt went flying. Lying down, she raised her left leg, slowly rolling up her stocking. He watched her, pumping his cock. Stepping up, he caught her foot, removed the heel and removed the rolled-up stocking, throwing it over his shoulder and replacing the shoe.

"Now the other one." His deep voice had her shiver and obey. This time he helped with the removal of the stocking, rolling it up her shin and kissing the bare skin revealed. Again he replaced the shoe when he was done. He stared at her lying among the upturned books she'd tumbled to the floor. Her legs slightly turned to the side, but her chest proudly on display, as she leaned up on her elbows.

"I am waiting." She purred. Parting her knees, he fell on her. Their kiss turning carnal within seconds. Slinging her leg over his hips, he felt the tip of her heel at his buttocks. Just as sexy as he'd thought it would be. Lining up, he couldn't wait any more. Surging into her in one stroke, he moaned loudly. She was tight as a fist around him. Scorching hot and perfect. Grabbing her perfect arse he moved, planting his other behind her shoulder, only to curl that hand and push her deeper into him. He couldn't get close enough. She was all around him. All he knew was her.

Biting her lip, she only barely contained the scream. He was perfect, just like she knew he would be. As his strokes slowed, she tightened her legs around him.

"Don't stop. Please don't ever stop!" She begged. He nuzzled her neck and ear, driving deep.

"Sing for me." He rumbled directly into it, making her shiver. Leaning up, she used her hold on his neck for leverage. They were now cheek to cheek, her mouth directly at his ear. He slid out and surged back in and this time she didn't hold back. Her deep moan was rewarded with another deep surge. This would be her undoing. She could already feel reality slipping away into an erotic haze where nothing mattered but the pleasure they could give each other.

"Yes…Draco…ugh…You feel…so…big!" She whispered to him.

"Yes! Sing to me, Hermione. Tell me what you want. Tell me." He pushed out between gritted teeth, speeding up. Closing her eyes, she was overwhelmed. He touched nerves she didn't even know she had, filling her so completely.

"So good. Draco…" She gasped, stretching under him. His mouth latched onto her nipple. A deep moan tore itself from her. She could swear that she felt him twitch inside her. Burying her hand in his hair, she let go and freely allowed the sounds he elicited from her to spill forth. Turning her head, she opened her eyes when she heard the sound of tearing paper. They were having sex on his books. She didn't care. Quite the opposite. The smell of ink and paper only excited her more. It was perfect. Him, her and the books underneath them. Letting go of all inhibitions, she talked to him.

"You're so big and hard, Draco. So good. Your hands…are…so strong. I love how you move me."

His hand on her arse flexed and she bit her lip. The same hand swatted her backside sharply. Her entire body twitched. His dark eyes were right over hers when she opened them.

"My witch likes a bit of a spanking." He rumbled, licking her lips. She chased his lips. Panting, she imagined him spanking and taking her from behind.

"Maybe." She admitted, digging her heels deeper when he slowed down. His thrusts turned harder, more demanding. Hitting her clit on every pass. Entranced he watched her eyes lose focus and moaning, gasping and keening.

"Perfect. You are perfect. And you are mine!" His voice dropped lower and lower. Opening her eyes, she saw the inky darkness swirl in his eyes. She didn't care. In fact, for the first time ever, she felt completely comfortable and in tune with her demon. The passion of the moment was exactly what it wanted.

"If you want me, then you'll have to try harder." She challenged. His eyes flared, his hand digging deeper in her hip. She relished in it. It would bruise, but she didn't care. He wasn't treating her like she would break any minute and she found what she'd always found lacking in the beds of other men. She liked it rough, but they'd always treated her like a wilting flower. Not him. Eagerly meeting his thrusts, she leaned back, moaning deeply.

"Yes! More. Harder."

He tilted his pelvis and hit a magic spot. One she'd only found once herself. Grasping at his back and head, she met him, panting.

"Right there! Yes…Yes!" She keened. Grunting he rose over her, using both hands to move her on him.

"Touch yourself, Hermione. Pinch those pretty nipples for me." He ordered. Sliding her hands up her rib cage, she weighed her breasts in her hands. They were tight and heavy, needing attention. Kneading them, she finally closed her thumb and forefingers about her nipples, twisting them back and forth. The wave broke without warning. She'd been so caught up in his voice, their sounds and his delicious fullness, when stars burst behind her eyelids. Her back bowed sharply, her breath caught in her throat and her eyes rolling back. She heard him grunt as tension locked all her muscles. Screaming, she bucked into him. No longer in control of her body. He continued fucking her through it, drawing it out until she was ready to beg him to stop. His head dropped to her shoulder when she almost couldn't take it anymore. He groaned deep and his hips lost their rhythm. She felt him spend inside of her and smiled. Stroking his back and hair, she linked her legs behind him, locking him in place. Both of them breathing hard were loath to move. Sometimes either would move, triggering aftershocks, having both shiver.

After an eternity, he felt able to move. Regretfully he slid from her, eliciting a slight moan from both. Settling back over her, he softly caressed her face, brushing back strands of her hair. The sweat was cooling on his skin and while he no longer truly felt the cold, he knew it wasn't the same for her. Testing his legs, he found that the weakness had passed. He didn't think he'd ever come so hard in his life. And if it was up to him, this was only the first of many. She was his now. Pushing his arms under her shoulder and behind her legs, he lifted her into his arms. Hers immediately looped around his neck. Her luminous, languid eyes on him. Blindly he padded through the room to the stairs.

"I was comfortable with you on top of me." She admonished with a smile. Grinning he nodded.

"And I was comfortable with you under me. But I have this very large bed that I wanted to see you in. I am sure that it will become you very much."

Using his neck once more as leverage, she slung her legs down and then around his hips. Not missing a step, he supported her.

"Is that so, Mr Malfoy." She whispered, capturing his lips in a deep kiss. It was madness, but she wanted him again. And judging from the prodding at her arse, he did too. Kicking open the door to his bedroom, he moved quickly to the big bed he'd imagined her in so many times. Not breaking their kiss, he pulled back the blanket. Feeling mischievous and playful, he dropped her without ceremony. Bouncing, she giggled. His smile slowly died as he took her in. She was better than any fantasy he'd ever had.

"You're beautiful." He rasped. The words the complete truth and torn from him without a conscious thought. Her smile turned softer and her fingers slid along some of her scars.

"So are you."

He rubbed the scar on his torso. His hand coming to a rest over his heart.

"I love you." He confessed. "I tried to be good and let you go. You deserve better."

Meeting his eyes, she shook her head and held out her hand.

"I have better. I have you. I love you too, Draco."

Taking her hand, he slid into bed and over her. Softly framing her face, he nuzzled her, taking it slow. Kissing her deeply, he tried to communicate the depth of his feelings. He was humbled by her eager response that was just as deep. Slinging her legs around his hips, he gently angled hers and only when she tilted them up invitation, did he slide home. They groaned, but didn't break their kiss. She kicked off her shoes, lifting her legs higher to allow him to go deeper. It was slow and deep. Their kisses languid. Finding his left hand, she locked it with hers, their fingers intertwining.

"Mine!" She moaned into him. Feeling so full of emotion he didn't know how to articulate it, he showed her instead. Worshipping her body, kissing her deep and making love to her.

"Yours. Always." He promised, pushing them higher and higher. He felt her flutter around him. Saw the signs in her hitched breath and the trembling in her lips and eyelids. With a deep groan he watched her go over and the tight clamp of her sheath took him along. Panting he kissed her eyes, her nose. A small smile was on her face and she was lying back relaxed. Stumbling on rubbery knees from the bed, he made his way to the bathroom. Stumbling back, he softly cleaned her and offered her a shirt.

"I like it cold in my bedroom and you are too much of a temptation." He joked when she frowned at the shirt. He'd gotten a pair of pyjama pants for himself. Mumbling something unintelligible, she pulled him back to bed and snuggled into his side. Throwing the cloth towards the bathroom, he summoned the blanket, draping it over them. She snuggled closer to him, half on top. Sighing deep, he closed his eyes. They still had many things to work through, but he had hope that they could make it. He knew for a fact that love was a very powerful thing. Feeling full and light, he pulled her closer to him. She loved him too.

AN: Sorry for the delay. I reworked it a couple of times. I hope you all continue to enjoy and are safe and healthy in these crazy times. Have a great one!