"Hermione."

"Hi, Anthony." He pointed to the chair next to her with an expression that asked if he could join her. She preferred studying alone, but he was intelligent and they shared several classes together so she agreed, albeit somewhat recently.

"So…" They studied for a few minutes before he, as expected, broke the silence. "We're coming up on a Hogsmeade trip this weekend." She nodded, though she hadn't been aware of that fact. Without Harry and Ron, trips out of the castle were less appealing. "I was wondering if you would want to join me."

"Oh, ehm… s-sure." There wasn't a reason she could think of to say no, other than simply not wanting to go with him. "That sounds lovely." But why wouldn't she have wanted to go? Anthony Goldstein was, by all accounts, a fine catch. Most of the girls thought so, at least, and Hermione was not blind to why. He was strapping, for sure, though not nearly as handsome as Malfoy. And he was tall, which was a plus in her book. Evidently, he wasn't as tall as Malfoy, but still tall-ish. Not that anything so superficial should have mattered most. More important than his moderately above average looks and his only slightly above average height was the fact that Anthony was quite smart. Not as intelligent as she knew Malfoy to be, annoyingly, but he got good grades by even Ravenclaw standards. Of course, he couldn't hold a candle to her and it often showed whenever he tried engaging her in a conversation about magical theory or arithmancy… unlike Draco who articulately shot down her, apparently, underdeveloped and nescient theories and even convinced her of "more thought out opinions" that were "better suited for scholastic discussions" once she got over being so butt-hurt.

"Granger." Think of the handsome devil. His harsh tone startled the two seated at the table.

"Malfoy! Hey, hi," she fumbled awkwardly. For some reason, she felt instantly worse about agreeing to Anthony's invitation.

"We are supposed to work on the Ancient Runes translation," he reminded her coldly.

"Right now?" Naturally, Hermione wanted to start every project on the day it was assigned, though she was somewhat surprised that the lazy sod was as keen on getting it done as she was. Yes, he was smart and a remarkably good student when not trying to assassinate the Headmaster, but he didn't go out of his way to over-prepare to the extent that she did.

He nodded for her to follow him and she did so without question, leaving her books and various items behind at the table with that other boy, if he was even still sitting there. The blonde led her in the restricted section. "Malfoy, what could you possibly need in here?" Rather than answer her question verbally, he pulled her in and pushed her up against the wall. Skipping over the introductory kisses and licks along her neck, he went straight to nipping and biting. There was no one, two, three finger warm up before he moved her knickers to the side and entered her. "Fuck! Draco!" She wasn't completely dry - simply thinking of him physically aroused her - but she was nowhere near ready to take him.

Fortunately, despite wanting to hate him, her body craved his own and quickly adjusted to his intrusion, opening up to him and welcoming his presence within her. It might have even been the forcefulness of this interaction that took her immediately to the top of that special mountain, though she would refrain from thinking about what that could have said about her. She was brought to glorious new heights, but was thrown over the side before she could enjoy the scenery. That was to say, he forced upon her a quick and unsatisfactory orgasm before she had time to fully process what they were doing.

When he wiped his finger along her entrance, she thought he was going to play with her clit. It was arguably too soon after her first orgasm, and she almost said something, but that wasn't his plan anyway. Instead, he hiked her leg up over his hip and wrapped his arm under her body where he found her back entrance. She opened her mouth to protest - questionably, because honestly, it was an amazing addition last time - but he swiftly moved his left hand from her bum to her neck, holding her in place as she "struggled". He must not have gotten his entire finger in last time, because this hurt much worse. She felt like he was ripping her open and began to actually struggle a bit more.

Unlike any time before, Malfoy all but ignored her while simultaneously fucking her into the wall. She felt like he was punishing her for something, though, for what, she had no idea. Over her whinging and between his grounding, she heard him whispering something but it was too muffled by her shoulder to be sure she heard him correctly.

He continued thrusting forcefully until he came. By this point, she didn't want him to stop. The dull pain had subsided and she was so close to a second climax, one that might have actually proved satisfactory. Today was obviously not about her, because he pulled himself from her and made no move to continue.

"What was tha-'' He cut off her question with a bruising kiss. It was aggressive and she didn't like it. She turned her head from him to break away from his lips. "Malfoy!" His behaviour was unusual and it was concerning her slightly.

"I need to go. Let's work on the project Saturday after lunch."

"But this weekend is a Hogsmeade trip," she pouted, more from the disappointment of not getting off a second time than from missing out on her date.

"Since when do you care about Hogsmeade?"

"I guess I don't." And she didn't. Not really. In fact, she would have preferred staying in and studying with Malfoy than joining Anthony on whatever it was he was planning. "I do need a few quills though."

"Good. Then it's settled. I'll meet you here Saturday at noon."

"But-" He kissed her again, with slightly more compassion, and left.

. . .

On Wednesday, Hermione was taken aback by the sudden appearance of an old barn owl landing directly in front of her. Attached to his leg was a bundle of four packages; three long and narrow, one much wider. Each one read Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop in fancy calligraphy. This was where she bought all of her quills, but these were their premium boxes, not ones used for the standard goose feathers she purchased regularly. Inside the largest box lay five beautiful quills; three swan feathers, one owl and one from either a raven or a crow, based on the black colour. She had only ever owned goose feather quills because they were far less expensive, but she had used one from a swan before. It was significantly better. Hence the cost.

In the three narrow boxes were three individual quills. The first was of a greyish-green feather that most likely belonged to an Augurey. The Irish bred phoenix was slightly less rare, but only because there was a conservation that both protected and helped breed them. Feathers were sold as a means to generate revenue to sustain the facilities. The next was a bright orange feather that she really hoped was from a fwooper and not from an English phoenix, though considering the previous box, it was a toss up either way. Finally, the last box contained a short, blue speckled feather she recognized as that of a jobberknoll. Each of the three had an individual value greater than she would have spent on all of her goose quills throughout the entire year. There was only one person who could spend this much on something as frivolous as feathers . Actually, that wasn't true. There were arguably two people who could afford to spend this much money, but knowing Harry would never be so foolish – and the fact that he didn't buy her gifts at random – it was somehow safer to assume that the man she confessed needing quills to, the man who basically owned half of Wizarding England even after war reparations, bought her quills. Stupidly and unnecessarily luxurious quills.

Looking over toward the Slytherin, he was nowhere to be found, but a quick glance to the door caught him slipping out. She replaced the lid on the boxes, gathered them up along with her bag and rushed out to find him. By the time she reached the corridor though, he was nowhere to be seen.

. . .

"I hope you've changed your mind about joining me. It'll be worth it, I promise."

"Anthony, I told you already, I can't. I have to finish my project."

"Hermione, that's not due for weeks. Would you actually prefer spending your Saturday with that twat than coming out with me?"

Draco didn't wait around to hear her response. He walked ahead to the library, half expecting her not to show. Less than ten minutes later, however, he was joined by his partner who came barreling in quickly and sat in a huff.

He could see that she was put out about being here instead of on her date. "If you'd prefer…" he started, swallowing his pride, "I know Goldstein asked you to go with him. I'm sure his offer still stands." He shouldn't have manipulated her into spending the day with him. It was selfish and unfair.

"No. Anthony and I do not see eye to eye on an important matter, so we will no longer be spending our time together." Her matter-of-fact tone informed him that the conversation was not to be continued. Which was fine, because that was all he needed to hear. He knew, or at least he hoped he was correct in the assumption that he knew, to what she was referring. An important matter, she said. He was that matter. He was important to her.

"Help me find the next book."

"What? Why?" Her eyes read over the titles of the twelve books stacked to her right. "We have what we need right here."

"Granger. Stand up and follow me so we can get the next book."

He took her by the hand and nearly dragged her around the shelves toward the back rows. They turned the corner and she saw the entrance to the Restricted Section. Her knickers were already damp from the memory of him taking her there and knowing he was about to again.

"Draco, perhaps we shouldn't." Naturally, she was nervous about being caught, but even more so because of how the last time played out.

"Yes, we should. And we will." Her hand was clasped firmly in his, there was no breaking away from him. "This will be about you."

As soon as they stepped through, her back was against the wall and his head was beneath her skirt.

There was significantly more foreplay today than any of the times before, which was easy since there was hardly ever any at all. The "foreplay" for the first two times was simply years of tension and the right circumstances. The third time… well, she still didn't have answers about what happened last week and she wasn't about to get them now.

She was turned, after several minutes of his tongue between her folds, and pushed gently with her face to the wall. He lowered her skirt to the floor, but when she tried lifting her legs out, he stopped her. Her legs were as spread as they could be while trapped within the confines of her skirt. Olive green panties were pulled down next, left around her knees.

He entered her slowly until he was fully inside of her. He pressed his entire body along her back, kept one hand on her pelvis, and the other held her hand, lacing fingers, and pinned to the wall.

"Do you have any idea how fucking incredible you are, Granger? So fucking good, love, so fucking perfect." He was thrusting in slow, short bursts, keeping his body wrapped around hers so she couldn't move. "Do you like my hand on your throat? My cock deep inside of you?" The hand on her hip slid up between her breasts and rested firmly around her neck, securing her to his chest.

"Malfoy!"

"Come on, love. Let me hear you. Let everyone hear you." He set up silencing spells on their way in, but she didn't know that, and it was adorable watching her try to muffle her reactions. "Do you like how I fill your tight body?"

"Godric, yes," she whispered, trying her best to stay quiet. "Please!"

"Please? Are you begging for me, princess? Begging me to fuck you? To pleasure you?" A sudden thrust up hard against her cervix caused her to cry out. "Is this what you want?" She nodded. "Say it!"

"Malfoy, please. You know what I want."

"No," he taunted, "I don't think I do."

"Please, please, Malfoy. I need more."

"Come on, Granger." He slowed down even more, dragging his penis out of her vice grip at a torturous pace. "Better than that. My little brown-noser can suck up better than that to get what she wants." A string of kisses was planted between his words. Her neck tingled beneath his touch. "I want to hear you beg. I want to hear you plead for it."

"Malfoy," her voice cracked and she sounded like she was about to cry. "I need more." He was barely lodged in her now. She could feel her opening hug the tip of him, but she felt empty without the rest. "I- I need you. More of you."

"Oh, you have me, love. I will give you anything you want, but I need to hear you ask for it."

"Draco," she whimpered. He heard her swallowing her pride, and he loved it. "Please. Please, I need to come. Please, make me come. Shag me like before. Please, I'll do anything, just let me come!"

His thumb slipped into her mouth and she sucked him like her orgasm depended on it. But then he removed it and brought it back down. She knew where he was going before he even got there. "Draco…" she shook her head, trembling from the memory of the last time.

"I know, Granger." He made soft but firm circles against her tight rosebud, encouraging her to open up to him. "This'll be different, I promise." He tried distracting her with wet kisses and gentle nips across her shoulder. He kept a slow but consistent pace with his hips, maintaining her arousal to endure the still unfamiliar sensation. "Try to relax, love. Please, trust me, I only want to take care of you." His words, more than anything else, eased her tension and allowed for him to slip into her.

She was pulled back from the wall one step but was told to keep her hands planted where they were for support. One large hand wrapped around her side. The other rested on the small of her back, keeping her bent over with an arched spine, thumb fully embedded in her arse. He held her steady as he increased to a brutal pace until they both found the peace that they needed and seemed only capable of finding in each other's body.

. . .

"What about you, Malfoy?" It had been several minutes of silence, though not completely uncomfortable, while they righted themselves. "Still hate me?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment, smirked, laughing quietly at something. He leaned down over to her smaller frame, kissed her softly, then left without a word. After collecting herself, both physically and emotionally, she walked back into the main library and found him at the table halfway through the first page of translations.