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The next time I spoke to Draco was in Potions.

And to my surprise, he set his cauldron right up next to mine.

"I thought we could be partners," he murmured, "if you don't object."

Well, this was a development, I usually ended up working alone unless Harry and Ron had had a fight.

I glanced over at them, both too busy poring over the stupid Half-Blood Prince book to notice that I had company.

"Aren't you worried what people might think?" I asked, beckoning towards the Slytherins who Draco usually sat with, each of them narrowing their eyes at us suspiciously.

But Draco just shrugged, a smile flickering at his lips as his grey eyes lingered on me softly. "I really couldn't give a shit. The only person whose thoughts I care about are yours. Come to my room tonight. I've missed you."

"But it's a school night," I said, wide eyed.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "If it makes you feel better, we could just study? But I wouldn't mind if you stayed over. I'm going to have a night off from the Room of Requirement and I would love to spend it with you."

I looked at him closely and realised he did indeed look as though he hadn't slept in a long while.

"Draco, please don't tell me the last time you got any sleep was Saturday?" It was Monday. Two days since our day in bed.

He shrugged. "It's fine, I had a power nap yesterday afternoon. It's why I'm taking tonight off, to catch up. Only, as I keep saying, I'd like to catch up with you in my arms."

I smiled, my stomach already fluttering in anticipation. "Of course, I will. Oh, but just so you know, Harry knows about us. I didn't tell him, but it's a difficult thing to deny after what he walked in on last week."

His lip curled into a sneer as he glared over to where Harry was patting Ron excitedly on the shoulder, pointing down to something in his book. "I suppose he tried to warn you off me?"

"No, actually. But he does keep asking about your arm. I told him to go and get himself a girlfriend."

A smirk twitched at his lips as his gaze slid back to mine, a warm twinkle in his eye. "What about the weasel? Has he given you any grief?"

I emitted a heavy sigh, recalling our conversation at the bottom of the dormitory stairs. I wondered if he'd taken my advice and not slept with Lavender.

"I stopped allowing him to give me any grief a long time ago," I answered honestly. "It's just a shame poor Lavender can't say the same thing."

As I said this, our eyes automatically swivelled over to where Lavender was sat alone at her desk, staring gloomily over at Ron who was taking no notice of her, or even Harry, actually, as he was too busy scowling over in our direction instead.

"What's his problem?" Draco muttered, edging closer to my side.

I thought about how honest I really should be with Draco, but decided in the end to keep it vague in the interest of not alarming him.

"I think he's beginning to discover the repercussions of playing with people's hearts." I said wryly. "Serves him right."

To my surprise, I felt Draco's hand brush against mine. I glanced up. There was a strange look in his eyes.

"He's an idiot, you know," he murmured softly. "But I'm glad, because if he wasn't, then I'd be the one missing out."

A breath caught in my throat just as my eyes darted down to his lips. Merlin, how I wanted to kiss him right there in the middle of the classroom.

But I held back, the prospect of the evening ahead giving me something to look forward to.

We fell silent as Slughorn entered the room, asking everyone to get their books out.

"O-ho! We are in for a treat today!" He announced jovially, "I have got special permission from the good headmaster himself to allow my sixth year students to make Amortentia, providing every single drop is to be accounted for and bottled up at the end of the lesson, ready to be locked safely away from temptation."

"For fuck's sake," Draco muttered quietly next to me. "This potion always makes me nervous. Imagine someone you detest slipping it to you. It's no different to rape."

My eyes widened, not having thought about it like that before. He wasn't wrong. What if, say, Cormac got hold of some? I shuddered, picturing doing the things with Cormac that I had done with Draco. Surely that would not be counted as real consent?

"Well, let's just hope he really does account for every last drop then," I said, praying Slughorn was vigilant in these things.

I went to fetch the ingredients whilst Draco got our equipment ready. Ron, obviously having timed it on purposed, joined me in the supply cupboard.

"What's going on with you and Malfoy?" He demanded aggressively. "You are both looking rather cosy aren't you? Partnering up in Potions?"

"We study together, as you know," I answered stiffly, "so it's hardly surprising that knowing we work well together, we would choose to 'partner up'. Besides, I don't see you or Harry offering to work with me."

"You make sure he doesn't drug you with that love potion." Ron growled, anger flashing in his eyes. "I see the way he looks at you... like he wants to eat you or something."

I was tempted to spit out that he already had and it was good, but I kept my lips firmly sealed, concentrating instead on the task in hand.

Ingredients in my arms, I huffed back to Draco and threw them down on the desk.

"Is everything okay?" Draco asked as he immediately began to pull the ingredients towards him and expertly chop them up.

He was hypnotic in the way he worked, I couldn't tear my eyes away from his hands, his fingers moving deftly and efficiently.

"I'm just fed up of Ron and Harry acting like they have a right to have an opinion on my life," I said, feeling my stomach knot as I remembered how well he touched me with those very fingers.

"I'd gladly sort them out for you," he smirked, "just say the word, Granger."

I was going to point out that he already had enough murders to plot, but decided to keep quiet. I was, after all, working my hardest to find a way to put a stop to it all.

We continued to work in silence, and it felt nice, being with him like this. Although, at the same time it was also maddening, the presence of others meaning that I couldn't touch him or kiss him.

"I think it's done," Draco murmured, peering into the cauldron through the spiralling steam. "Come here, tell me what you think."

It did indeed have that mother-of-pearl sheen, and I was hit immediately by the scent of freshly mown grass and new parchment. However, it wasn't to my surprise that it was lacking the cinnamon scent that I'd smelt once before.

It made me feel strangely sad.

"What is it?" Draco asked, frowning at me in concern.

"Nothing, I- I- just can't seem to locate that third scent. All I smell is cut grass and new parchment."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrow. "There should be three."

I sniffed hard, but all I could smell was the citrusy hint of Draco's cologne.

"Your cologne is masking it," I said, "go and stand somewhere else."

When he didn't move, I looked up, questioningly. To my surprise, his expression was soft... tender, even.

"I'm not wearing any," he said, slowly and pointedly. "I ran out two days ago, and haven't got around to replacing it."

Oh. I felt my face flush in realisation. Well, it was hardly surprising, I suppose.

"Just so you know," he murmured quietly, dipping his head to whisper softly in my ear, his fingers lightly resting on the small of my back, "I smell your scent too, I have done for a while now."

Butterflies took flight in my stomach and I looked shyly away as I felt my lips tugging into a helpless smile.

"Tonight, after dinner," Draco reminded me as we began to pack away our things. "My room. Don't forget."

As if I would.

*****

Draco didn't think he'd ever been this happy in his life.

Even the whole Death Eater task thing seemed less like the dark, overbearing weight it had been since he'd confided in Hermione. Knowing she was trying to help him made him feel a million times lighter, and he no longer felt so alone.

But until she could sort the Dark Mark on his arm, he felt he should carry on with trying to fix the stupid cabinet. His mother, after all, often wrote (in code, of course) enquiring about how he was getting on, and he didn't want to lie to her.

If they were ever free of this war, Draco dared hope that he and Hermione could find a way to be together properly. He imagined taking her to France or somewhere similar, eating the continental breakfasts she so adored on the cobbled streets of Paris.

Of course, he would have to deal with his parents, knowing that the last thing they would want was for their only son to shack up with a Muggle-born.

But he already knew he would fight for her, that she was special enough to him to stand up against his parents and their beliefs. Especially now he knew for certain that she felt as strongly for him as he did for her.

He had been worried, of course, that she was still holding out for the weasel, but the fact that it was him she had detected in the Amortentia, and not Weasley, filled Draco with such an immense feeling of joy, that he knew he no longer had anything to worry about.

So the second she stepped into his room that evening, he couldn't help but pull her immediately into his arms, kissing her with a hunger that no amount of food could satisfy.

"Fuck, Hermione," he murmured breathlessly against her lips, "do you know the raging boner I've had all day for you? I could barely walk by the end of it."

He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his crotch, wanting her to feel just how much he wanted her. The lust contained in her eyes as she looked up at him caused all the remaining blood in his head to rush south.

Their clothes didn't stay on much longer after that.

"Oh god, Hermione," he cried as she slowly sank down on him on the floor by the bed.

He threw his head back as she reached the hilt, his entire body already thrumming in pleasure at simply being inside her.

His hands grasped her hips as she began to move, guiding her carefully and preventing her from moving too fast.

He was afraid of finishing too soon, never having felt so full of lust before, his every movement driven by it.

But somehow he managed to last, this time, to his relief, getting Hermione there first.

And, when he came, he came hard, cussing and groaning loudly so that his voice reverberated off the walls.

"I've literally fucked you all over the castle in my head," he admitted afterwards when she mentioned how funny it was that they never made it to his bed.

"Where was the best place?" She asked, her face full of intrigue at the idea of hearing about his fantasies.

He loved that she wanted him to share them with her, genuinely interested in his enjoyment. But he wouldn't share them all, of course, some of his fantasies involving girls he used to think about before her.

"The prefects' bathroom," he said without missing a beat. His favourite fantasy. "Amongst the bubbles."

"Well, that's not too risqué," she smiled coyly, tracing circles with her fingers on his still heaving chest, "we could certainly make that happen."

He lifted his head off the floor, raising an eyebrow, a familiar stirring starting up despite literally just having orgasmed. "You're not worried about someone walking in, or that bloody ghost turning up?"

A frown flickered across her brow as she ceased the stroking. "The Bloody Baron, you mean?"

"No," he chuckled, finding her helplessly adorable. "Moaning Myrtle. My god, I think she's got a crush on me. She's the reason I avoid that bathroom, actually. Last time that I had a soak in the bubbles, she popped up out of nowhere, complimenting me on the size of my cock. Needless to say, I never went back."

He didn't add that he'd been in the middle of a good wank as well.

"She did that to Harry too," Hermione said, "I told him he should complain to Dumbledore. I mean, if a male ghost started sneaking in on girls, there would be uproar."

"And did he? Complain to Dumbledore, I mean?"

"No, he said he liked it."

Potter would.

"Merlin, some people are just not fussy, I guess," he scoffed. "Anyway, in my fantasy we are definitely not interrupted. And you look so damn sexy covered in nothing but suds."

He realised he was probably over sharing now, although Hermione didn't seem to mind. He was beginning to discover that there was a side to her he had never known about before, a side that he hoped she would only ever reserve for him.

Because when it came to sex she was becoming increasingly outgoing and confident, and he got the impression that she'd possibly be open minded and willing to explore just about anything he suggested.

And it was as sexy as hell.

When they could both walk again, they got up off his bedroom floor and he led her to his bathroom where this time, she joined him in the shower and he got to experience at least part of his fantasy play out when he soaped her body all over.

He was so sodding grateful that he'd invested in a family value pack of condoms.

That night, when they were completely and utterly spent, they curled up in his bed together, falling blissfully asleep in each other's arms.

And over the following weeks, she would return on the nights he took a rest from fixing the cabinet. Sometimes they studied, most times they fucked. And other times they would just simply lay together on his bed, talking and enjoying one another's company.

Yes, Draco most definitely hadn't been happier in his life.

It was just a shame, then, that it was all about to turn to shit.

*****

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