Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the world I'm writing about and all the characters/items you recognize from the books. This is a major re-write of Romantic Fool's fic "How to Marry a Malfoy", which I think has been completely abandoned because it hasn't been updated since 2003 and it's most certainly not finished. I instantly fell in love with the plot from the first chapter, but was so broken-hearted at its incompletion that I decided to take up the task myself, adding my own spins along the way. Apparently some of the story was taken from Julia Quinn's How To Marry a Marquis. I haven't read it, but I'll take Romantic Fool's word for it, so I feel it would only be right to mention it here. What doesn't belong to the people mentioned above belongs to me. Although this fic is strongly based off of another, I made a lot of changes because I didn't like everything about the way that fic was set up. The bare bones of the plot are mostly the same, but most of the meat around and connecting the bones is different. Since the major plot and characters are the same, I think of this as a major re-write, but if it seems like a whole other fic to you, all the better. For the sake of thoroughness, there are some bits of dialogue and paragraphs I copied verbatim from Romantic Fool because they were worded so perfectly I couldn't think of a better way to say them. Please don't sue me! I don't have any money to hand over, unless you count pocket lint as money.

A/N: I labeled this fic as Romance/Humor because it is, overall. The prologue is super angst-fest 5000 (with romance!) because I firmly believe that it is nearly impossible to pull off a good novel-length Dramione fic without at least some angst at first, and I personally think that the best Romance fics are ones which start off with a Draco and/or Hermione who can't even tolerate being in the same room as the other. So this is basically a giant flashback, explaining how they got to that point. Also, regarding labels, this is pretty much Alternate Universe, in that both Narcissa and Draco defected to the Order before Dumbledore's death (which will be explained as necessary). Severus is still alive, as he was able to convince Voldemort that the Elder Wand only needed to be disarmed to pass ownership, as opposed to death, and that he had disarmed Dumbledore instead of Draco. Lastly, this story is rated Mature because there are sexual situations (all essentially consensual) and swearing.

~~~\~~~ means a scene change

***/*** means a point of view change, which may or may not also be a scene change

Okay, that's enough from me for now. Enjoy!

Introduction: The Malfoy Defense Mechanism

So, you want to marry a Malfoy? Good luck; you will need as much of it as you can get. I only managed it by complete accident, I assure you. Malfoy men have a natural instinct to impale anyone who gets close to them with words as sharp as the best-kept dagger, and actions to prove their sincerity. If you do not have the fortitude to take hard hits to your ego (because his own ego can barely fit into the building as it is), or the will to keep going after crushing blows, quit now. You will never make it past his defenses. If you still want to try, then I will tell you what to do. It will be up to you to do it (though really, you should just quit now before you get yourself into the gigantic cesspool of a mess, also known as the mind of a Malfoy male).

The first level of defense a Malfoy has is a systematic screening. Upon the first meeting, a Malfoy will put you under one of two categories: Important Person or Non-Important Person. Once a Malfoy has labeled you as part of the second category, it will be near impossible without the right connections to change his mind, and you need to be labeled as the first. If you want to get a Malfoy's attention, you're going to have to do something drastic enough to catch his eye, but not in a way that would shame him to know you. His ridiculously overinflated ego only ever comes second to his own cowardice.

Example A: Attend a social gathering the Malfoy will be present at and make sure you are the most beautiful woman there. He, ever the womanizing prick, will find you and offer to keep you warm for the night. This will ensure his incredibly small short-term attention, which you can use as a first step toward his long-term attention.

Example B: Insult him because he deserves it. Make him remember you by embarrassing him so deeply that he will vow to seek revenge until his dying breath. I do not suggest this as your first plan, though bravo if you manage it, seeing as there will certainly be negative repercussions for you. But getting him to notice you and store your name under that first category is imperative. It will be possible to change the reason why you are important later, as long as you are labeled as important from the start.

Example C: Wait around like a simpering, clingy fool until the Malfoy of your choice is looking for a convenient wife and make yourself available. This is assuming you are merely marrying him for his money, and accept the fact that he will use you when it suits him, have sex with you only as much as is required until you provide him a male heir, and ignore you at all other times. This option is only open to daughters of a wealthy, pure-blooded family, who could create a mutually beneficial connection for both families, which distinctly lack any type of morality or soul.

~~~\~~~

It was the night before Graduation and Hermione Granger was having everything but fun. She was stressed, angry, and completely against the copious consumption of alcohol in Gryffindor Tower. She had nothing against people having a good time. What she did despise was people intentionally lowering their inhibitions (i.e. drowning their common sense in alcohol) and using it as an excuse to have an orgy in the Commons, meanwhile expecting house elves to clean up the ensuing mess. People were stupid, and Hermione could only tolerate so many stupid people around her at once.

Even in her own head that sounded unnecessarily harsh, but she was Head Girl and had a duty to keep the students safe. She couldn't protect them from themselves, however, so she chose to just leave.

Which was why she was now wandering around Hogwarts castle at six in the evening, when she ought to have been with her friends celebrating. She wanted to be with Harry and Ron, to celebrate the completion of an extremely important chapter of their lives, but alcohol changed everyone, even her best friends. Hermione hated change. She preferred Arithmancy problems to people sometimes, because the problem never changed from moment to moment, and there was only one right answer. All she had to do was reason it out. People, on the other hand, were inherently irrational, and no matter how much reason she applied, some people just would not listen. She felt the emotional strain of trying to take care of everyone else, and it exhausted her. Who was going to take care of her? She was tired of being the mother-figure, and needed a night off to herself.

It didn't help that her boyfriend, Ronald Weasley, was currently playing strip something-or-other with their housemates, especially the female ones. Hermione supposed she couldn't really get mad as long as he didn't kiss any of them, but she was annoyed that he couldn't comprehend a possible ethical problem with it and she was insecure that he might decide she wasn't pretty enough for him. It wouldn't be the first time he had abandoned her.

Pushing back that painful thought, she continued wandering. It seemed like she had been to nearly every part of the castle over a hundred times over the course of her schooling career, so she didn't really know where she wanted to go. Was there a place she hadn't been? Well, a place she knew existed, that is. Not even Dumbledore had claimed to know every room in the entire castle. Sometimes Hogwarts seemed more like a living entity than an ancient building.

Her thoughts immediately flew to the Astronomy Tower. She had never been there for its social purpose. She had been there for Astronomy class and to catch other couples snogging on her patrol rounds, but never to get snogged herself. So she decided to go. Obviously she couldn't actually snog Ron, but she could use her imagination and pretend. Get the full Hogwarts experience, as it were. Maybe after that she'd try imagining having sex in a broom closet.

Yes, Hermione Granger was bored enough to imagine shagging her boyfriend in a broom closet. How pathetic was she? Why did she even want to? Ron had said he respected her too much to do anything in a broom closet, but secretly she suspected that he just didn't want to. He was probably afraid that she would take points off for him trying to get the Head Girl in a compromising position. It seemed like it had been forever since they had last had sex, but she wasn't exactly begging him for it either. It was just...okay.

She blushed and tried to push those thoughts away, too. Fortunately she had reached the tower and focused her attention on climbing the steps without slipping and falling on her face. She pushed open the door at the top of the tower, slowly walked toward the nearest window, and opened it. She sighed and stared up at the night sky, breathing deeply, hoping the fresh air would clear her mind. She did not want to think about Ronald Weasley and what he may or may not be doing tonight. She just wanted to relax.

"Fancy seeing you here, Granger," an irritated voice spat from the darkness somewhere near her.

She jumped at the sudden noise and whipped around, staring intently at the shadows, searching. She silently lamented that this was proof she would instantly recognize his voice for the rest of her life. It was ingrained into her memory for all eternity.

"Malfoy?"

"The one and only, quite literally," he chuckled sardonically. She heard the sound of liquid sloshing in a bottle.

"Lumos," she whispered. The end of her wand lit up, and she pointed it toward the shadowy corner from where she heard his voice.

Malfoy winced at the sudden bright light. "Shine it somewhere else, Mudblood. You're giving me a headache."

He took another swig of from what she guessed was a Firewhiskey bottle, as she knew it was his preference. She had seen him sneak similar bottles out of the liquor cabinet at Grimmauld Place countless times, but not even she had called him out on it. Back then everyone had been indulging in some sort of pleasure to deal with the stress of the war. She and Ginny had snogged Ron and Harry, respectively, nearly every day to relieve the tension and forget about their fears. Hermione had supposed that, since Malfoy hadn't had a girl there to snog him, drinking had been the next best thing.

She sighed. It looked like Malfoy hadn't kicked the habit. She couldn't escape alcohol tonight. She rolled her eyes, but pointed her wand to the side anyway.

"I'm pretty sure that's the alcohol's fault, not mine," she replied. "It dehydrates you, you know, which is what causes the headaches and hangovers. Drink some water and you'll be fine. Or a hangover potion if you can get one." Maybe her mothering side was harder to turn off than she thought.

He scoffed. "Why do you even care, Muddy? Besides, I thought you were smart. It's not from the alcohol; it's because I've been sitting in the dark. Or maybe your enormously bushy hair is preventing you from seeing how dark it is up here," he sneered.

She sighed again. Maybe she should just head straight to a broom closet. At least then she could guarantee Malfoy wouldn't be in there with her.

"I don't care, Malfoy," she lied. She turned back around and looked out the window. "Nox," she whispered. Her wand's light disappeared.

After having grudgingly worked with him and managed to stay surprisingly on civil terms with him up until the end of the war, she knew he didn't truly believe in blood purity anymore. With that knowledge, most of his insults had lost their sting, and the comments about her hair were more exaggerations than insults, so she never had trouble ignoring those. To be honest, her hair was ridiculously frizzy, so she had always labeled those comments as statements of fact. She knew that even the days she had significant success in taming the frizz would still be called bad hair days by the other girls. Ginny had offered hundreds of times to help her find shampoos and spells to make her hair look "normal", but Hermione wouldn't have any of it. Her hair was a part of her identity, and changing it would make her feel like a mindless conformist. She'd take being a bushy-haired spinster over being a pretty conformist any day.

So, really, Malfoy was only complimenting her when he sneered about her hair. He was calling her a non-conformist, and she was proud of it. Of course, it was easy to shrug off his insults now because she pitied him. He hadn't been kidding that he was the last of the Malfoy line. As far as she knew, if Malfoy died without procreating, the name would die with him. She was positive that was one thing he constantly brooded about, among many others, while he drank. His mother was still alive, but with her husband dead and all the talk about family honor, Hermione was positive she'd never remarry, and she'd rather commit suicide than have a child out of wedlock. So it was all up to her son to carry on the family name. But with Lucius and Voldemort dead, any respect the family name once had disappeared. While Malfoy had gained recognition as making the right choice by fighting on the side of Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore, everyone believed that he had only done so out of necessity, not for the cause. So, really, what chance did he have of finding a woman who understood him enough to love him and marry him? And that was assuming Malfoy wasn't already too damaged to be able to love her back.

After a few minutes of relative silence between them, she heard the bottle hit the ground and roll off, probably into another dark corner.

"Bloody bottles are too small," Malfoy muttered.

Hermione rolled her eyes but did nothing else.

A minute after that, Malfoy spoke, sighing. "Alright, Granger. I'm bored out of my mind so I'll ask. What's got your knickers in a twist? Potty or Weasel?"

Did she really want to talk to Malfoy, of all people? Sure, they could be civil when they tried, but he was still a prat. She could still just walk out and go somewhere else. But then the thought of being in a broom closet by herself, imagining that her boyfriend was there with her, became too depressing. Talking with Malfoy was better than crying by herself in a broom closet.

"Both, but mostly Ron," she answered forlornly.

"What did they do this time?" he drawled. She hadn't noticed that he had moved until his voice seemed right next to her ear. She jumped and looked to her right. Malfoy had stood up and walked over next to her, then leaned back against the wall. He must've gotten restless just sitting.

She cleared her throat and stared back out the window. Just because she was talking to the git didn't mean she had to look at him. Though he looks almost angelic with the moonlight shining on him. Whoa. Hold on there. He's nothing like an angel, remember? Stupid git is more devil than anything. He doesn't care about anyone except himself. He's only talking to you because he's bored, and he's probably hoping you'll say something embarrassing so he can remind you of it later for his amusement. She shook her head. Clearly she was losing her mind. Voluntarily opening up to Draco Malfoy and then thinking him an angel? She was heading straight for the loony bin.

"The whole of Gryffindor Tower is having a party with alcohol but without clothing, so instead of wallowing in self-pity in my room, I decided to wallow in self-pity up here." There was too much bitterness in her voice, but she couldn't stop it from spewing out of her mouth. She turned to him, feeling the rage build. Her anger at him fused with her anger at Ron so that there was a giant molten ball of it, growing larger by the second, ready to be hurled at whomever she chose. "You know, Malfoy, I don't get it. I really don't. What kind of boyfriend decides that stripping in front of other women is appropriate? In what plane of existence would that ever be okay? I mean, honestly! He can't think about how I would feel for one bloody second! He acts like it would kill him to think about me for a change!"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She felt herself flushing, her body temperature steadily rising, but it felt too good to stop.

So she continued, taking deep breaths to hold back the tears. "D'you know what he said when I asked why he had never taken me here to snog? He said he respected me too much. Really? He expects me to believe that when he had taken Lavender here nearly every night when they were together. And that was for bloody months. I know because I caught them in here all the time! And it killed me because I wanted him to take me here. I wanted to feel like a girl and be snogged. Granted, it's not like we didn't snog at all. But still! We just snuck around in bedrooms and little nooks at the Burrow and Grimmauld Place. And don't even get me started on the sex. Merlin, it's like I'm just there for him! He does his thing and expects me to just do mine by myself. 'But Mione, you're just so hard to figure out! I mean, girls are...you know...weird...'" she mimicked. She stopped to huff and reinforce the thin control she had over herself.

When she was positive she wasn't going to punch something, she glared straight at Malfoy as if he were Ron. "Weird! He calls female sexuality weird! If I weren't so jealous of that tart Lavender I would ask her exactly what they did. Does he find her sexuality weird? Or is it because I'm just some androgynous bookworm that lacks any type of reproductive system whatsoever?" By this point she was breathing hard and more furious than she ever remembered being. She had no idea she had been keeping so much bottled up. Well, she could have guessed, really, but the whole point of bottling things up was to not think about them...

Hermione turned back to the window and slammed her hand on the stone sill. She winced from the impact, but didn't regret it. Her hand stung, vaguely mirroring her own heart. A tear leaked down her cheek. She sniffed, feeling the rage drain out of her, leaving despair in its wake. "Am I overreacting, Malfoy? Should I really have expected anything different? I've been berating him for years about breaking rules and being out after hours. And he hasn't exactly cheated on me yet, so I guess that means he does care, right?"

She cursed and rested her forehead on her palm, which was held up by her elbow resting on the sill. "I don't know what to think anymore. I don't even expect you to have an answer. Maybe I should just join in and drink myself into a stupor until I'm numb. It looks like that's what you were doing. Does it work?"

***/***

Draco blinked at her, shocked that the goody-goody Gryffindor Head Girl, Hermione Granger, had just cursed. And that's aside from the fact that she had just spilled her thoughts out like a tipped cauldron. To him, her enemy from day one. And asked if she ought to get completely smashed.

"No, Granger," he drawled, for lack of how else to respond. "It doesn't work. That bottle hadn't even been full when I grabbed it, so I'm not exactly drunk at the moment. I'd been hoping to at least get tipsy, but there wasn't even enough for that. As for you, I do not recommend you drown your sorrows in alcohol."

She nodded, agreeing that alcohol wasn't the best solution.

He was, against his better judgment, genuinely concerned for her sanity. She had provided some of his best (and worst) memories at Hogwarts, taunting her and her friends throughout the years. They had managed to stay civil most of the time while working together at Grimmauld Place, which meant she wasn't all that difficult to tolerate. She had even made him laugh a few times when the stress had gotten to them late at night. He was surprised to realize that he would actually miss it. He might never see Hermione Granger again, and therefore never again feel the thrill of insulting her (even though he didn't really mean the insults anymore) and watching her indignantly fight back. If he insulted her now, though, she looked like she might just defenestrate herself, and he couldn't have that for two reasons. Firstly, it would remind him too strongly of Dumbledore's death, which still bothered him. Secondly, she would die, and then who would he insult? How would he get the same thrill? Nobody had witty comebacks like she did. No, he had to help her get her self-esteem back so he could tear it down all over again. But how?

***/***

Hermione honestly didn't expect Malfoy to say anything more. She suspected he was just as shocked as she was that she had blurted out every worried thought she'd been having for over a year now. Desperate times, she supposed. So when Malfoy finally did say something, she was caught off-guard yet again.

"I know what you need," he stated aristocratically, his trademark smirk in place.

Hermione's body half-turned to face him, confused. "What's that?"

"You need to have good sex, Granger, not Weasel sex," he replied authoritatively.

Hermione laughed. Merlin help her, it was the funniest thing he could have said. Even funnier was that his remedy made perfect sense to her. She was so wound up about everything these days that relaxing and even losing herself in something pleasurable sounded like a wonderful idea. If she lost herself, she would stop thinking about Ron and Lavender, and responsibilities, and how she did on her N.E.W.T.s, and which speech she'd actually give tomorrow at the Graduation ceremony (because she had written five different ones), and what she was going to do with herself for the rest of her life. And, honestly, she had never had 'good sex', as Malfoy put it. Just like every other subject, Hermione had devoured every book she had gotten her hands on when she had decided to start having sex with Ron. She had read textbooks and self-help books, and even romance novels (although she had been reading those anyway), just to get some sort of an idea of what to do and expect. She had been sorely disappointed. While Ron was a generally good bloke, he tended to be a little too selfish and oblivious, which were not attributes of a good lover. She had enough self-esteem to know she deserved more than Ron's impatience when she tried to make love, and she always felt afterward like he just wanted a quick shag. Merlin, how her fantasy of Ron and a house with the white picket fence had been shattered in so many ways. She felt like she had hit rock bottom from jumping off the Cliffs of Sanity. That was the only way she could explain confiding in Draco Malfoy and actually agreeing with him about needing sex.

"I agree, Malfoy. But who's going to provide this 'good sex'?"

He raised an eyebrow in mock indignation. "Why, I will, of course. Who else could I rely on for such an important task?"

Another laugh burst out of her. "Seriously, Malfoy. Who? Who would sully themselves with an ugly, Mudblood Head Girl? One half of the appropriate male population would be utterly disgusted for one reason or another and the other half would probably be scared I might take points off for a bad performance." She giggled at the image in her head of deducting ten points from Hufflepuff for not rubbing the right spot.

When she finally calmed down and opened her eyes, she gasped and tried to back up, but only managed to trap herself against the wall next to the window, unintentionally holding her breath. Malfoy was right in front of her, invading her personal space, smirking at her and licking his lips. His hands were placed on the wall at either side of her, preventing her escape.

"I'm completely serious, Granger." He grinned wickedly. "As long as I take a few showers afterward I'll be fine, and I promise you need not worry about my...performance."

Hermione's mouth dropped, thus letting her breath out in an indignant huff, for two reasons. One reason was outrage. Honestly! After taking multiple showers? Though she did sort of expect something like that from him since old habits died hard. The other reason was sheer shock that he looked completely serious. She had assumed he was going to suggest someone else, probably in Gryffindor, whom she would then dismiss because nearly every Gryffindor boy in her year had a girlfriend by now, and she already had a boyfriend. But Malfoy actually looked like he was thinking more along the lines of doing it right now and she was terrified. Sure, she had heard the rumors the gossips spread about his...er, sexual prowess. But it's Malfoy! She shouldn't even be telling him her problems, let alone letting him help fix them! ...Not that having sex with him would really fix anything. He was probably offering just so he could blackmail her later, or rub it in her face at an inopportune time of his choosing. The last thing she wanted was to give Malfoy more ammunition against her. Sure, they no longer fantasized about killing each other with dull instruments of torture, but they still weren't anywhere near being friends, and she sure as hell was not going to let him touch her the way Ron did.

Suddenly noticing that she had forgotten to breathe due to his proximity, she inhaled. She got a whiff of a scent she couldn't name. It was tinged with the smell of alcohol, probably courtesy of the Firewhiskey on his breath, but it was something also very...masculine. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, curious. It smelled something like Quidditch leather, old book bindings, and some kind of musk maybe? She frowned. A word struggled in the back of her head, trying to connect to her tongue. She knew she had read it somewhere, but couldn't find it. She took in another deep breath and sighed. It smelled good, alcohol aside. Her brain clicked. Pheromones! She opened her eyes, pleased that she found the answer. Then she frowned. Wait a minute. Malfoy naturally smells good? That's disturbing.

Then she realized Malfoy was still smirking knowingly at her. She glared and pressed back into the wall as far as she could to put at least a centimeter of more space between them.

"No way, Malfoy! You keep your scheming hands off of me! I may be a little depressed at the moment, but I'm not desperate."

"Oh? Just a moment ago you were agreeing with me that you need it. What have you got to lose, Granger? Hmm?" he persuaded smoothly.

"My dignity. My pride. My self-worth. Quite a lot, actually," she huffed back. "And yes, I did agree with you that I need good sex, but I didn't say it had to be with you."

Malfoy scoffed. "You just listed the same thing in three different ways. Even so, you obviously don't mind the way I smell, and I'm not even trying yet."

"Like I said," she glared, cursing the fact that he wasn't lying, "keep your hands where I can see them, Ferret. I do not want them touching me," she retorted.

He grinned. In the blink of an eye, his body and his lips were pressed up against hers, holding her against the cool stone wall. She squeaked in shock, squirmed, and whipped her head to the side to detach their lips. "I told you not to touch me, Ferret!" she ground out.

Malfoy had quickly moved his lips to her neck, but lifted them and whispered in reply, "You said you didn't want my hands touching you, Muddy, and they're not. They're still on the wall. But you didn't say anything about my lips or my tongue, or the rest of my body. Face it, Granger. You can't resist me." He resumed kissing and licking her neck.

Hermione wanted to scream. She was so angry at his arrogance, it made her want to slap him just like in Third Year, but unfortunately his face was buried in her neck, which prevented that. It didn't help that he was actually pretty skilled with his lips and tongue. She shivered just thinking of how much practice he had gotten throughout the years, and what they could do to her when applied to...other parts. She shook her head defiantly. No! I can't give into him like this. He's just using me. And, well, yes, I would be using him, too. But we shouldn't even be using anybody! Especially not each other! It's just wrong!

So she tried to scream. But she only managed it for a second before Malfoy's mouth covered hers again, so she pounded her fists against his back, the only part they could reach. She only registered afterward that she should have used her hands to push him away, but she hadn't even tried.

Malfoy sighed and lifted his head, waiting for her to stop. "Are you done throwing your tantrum?" he said, bored.

Hermione glared and opened her mouth to yell at him, but closed it. Instead, she crossed her arms and turned her head to the side. "Yes," she replied petulantly. "Are you done trying to rape my body?"

Malfoy laughed. "Granger, are you still trying to deny it? Your body has been saying 'Yes' since I first touched you. Do you deny that?"

Her head whipped back around. "That's not an excuse! 'No' means no, Malfoy!"

He smirked. "So you admit it then?"

"I-" she opened and closed her mouth again, but settled for a glare. "You're incorrigible."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and backed away. "Alright, Granger. You win. I give up. Either you want me or you don't. I'm not going to stand here all night listening to you play the martyr. You'll probably run off to Weasel with some sob story about me forcing you, anyway. So fine. I'm leaving. Let me know when you make up your mind." He slowly turned around and headed for the door.

Hermione frowned. After all that, he was leaving the offer open? Now what was she going to do? Go to a depressing broom closet? Go back to Gryffindor Tower? Watch Ron snog Lavender, which there was no doubt in her mind he was doing right now? Why did he get all the fun, all the pleasure? She had thought that she loathed Malfoy with every part of her being, tangible and intangible, but he had just disproved the half of that theory regarding her tangible parts. So now her mind had even more reasons to utterly despise him. He knew how to tease her, how to make her want him, and the thought of him manipulating her body so easily made her want to kill him. But the damage had already been done. She already missed the heat from his body against hers, and as much as she hated to admit it, Malfoy practically exuded sex appeal from every invisible pore. Hermione finally saw why Parvati and Lavender, in addition to every other pubescent female in the school, fantasized about him even while despising his personality. He loved being in control, relished it, even, and that confidence combined with his natural attractiveness ensured that no female feared for her safety while with him sexually. He'd never have to resort to rape, because all it took was a seductive smirk and girls just pounced on him voluntarily.

"Malfoy, wait." She didn't remember thinking the words, but they slipped out anyway. Malfoy dropped the hand that was reaching for the door handle.

Merlin help her, she didn't want to be one of those girls. She wasn't one of those girls. But he'd given her a taste of pleasure she'd never felt before. He aroused her without even touching her, instead merely by his proximity, by the knowledge that she could touch him if she only reached out to him. And then he only made it worse when they did touch. She wanted more, as much as he would give. She wanted to feel what she ought to feel with Ron, that selfish, cheating bastard.

Malfoy turned around, smirking at her, arms across his chest, and leaned back against the door. She wanted to slap the smirk right off his sexy face. Yeah, I'm officially insane now.

"Yes, Granger?"

She took a step forward and then hesitated. Did she really want to go through with this? Let's make a list, shall we? Physical attraction? Check. Ensured that we won't be disturbed? Will be a check if we ward the door. Getting revenge on Ron? Double check because it's Malfoy. No strings attached? Check because it's Malfoy. He shuns the boyfriend label like dirt on his expensive robes. Guaranteed pleasure? ...Triple check according to the rumors, because it's Malfoy...Conclusion? A resounding YES!

Hermione straightened up. "Ward the door while you're over there and then come back here," she commanded.

Malfoy grinned and waved around his wand, muttering the appropriate spells. But he didn't budge after he was done. He just resumed leaning back on the door.

Hermione put her hands on her hips and glared at him impatiently. "Well?"

"What?" he asked innocently.

"I told you to come over here," she huffed.

He laughed. "Oh no, Granger. You denied me before. You're just going to have to come get me yourself. I'm not making it easy for you."

Hermione licked her lips and gnawed on them nervously. Malfoy was absolutely going to laugh at her, well, yet again. She had never taken charge sexually before. Ron had always initiated everything. But the thoughts of Ron snogging Lavender even now spurred her into action. Malfoy was giving her the reins for the moment, so if she didn't have the confidence, she'd just have to fake it. Sod the consequences. She was going to have a good time tonight. She could always just avoid Malfoy at all costs in the future. Surely it wouldn't be that hard after they left Hogwarts.

She strode over confidently until she was standing right in front of him. She glared at him.

"Fuck you, Draco Malfoy," she said. And then she reached up and yanked his head down to kiss him.

***/***

If Draco was honest with himself, he was turned on beyond belief by her feisty attitude. She had essentially been toying with him since he had brought up the idea, but somehow she was too innocent to realize it. When he had finally had enough of her whining, he honestly expected her to run away, though it was obscenely obvious that she was attracted to him. So when she didn't move, he decided to push her more by being the one to walk away. The moment she called him back, he was delighted. Either her desire for revenge on the Weasel was so great she was completely ignoring her conscience, or (most probably) she was just far too horny at that point to care. He always had that effect on women. They always said they don't want him, but when he turned away, they called him back. He smirked to himself. He really was irresistible.

He had to admit that Granger looked adorable just standing there, thinking about how to get him to start kissing her again without surrendering more of her dignity than absolutely necessary. But he was used to this routine, too. Not all the women remained so determined when he came back, so he was used to doing a little more persuading before they finally got going. Granger, to his great surprise, was a lot easier to persuade than most. Then again, those other girls really only protested to get him riled up at their obvious deceit, whereas Granger really was thinking everything over. He was immensely pleased when Granger got that final look on her face as she made her decision. She had decided to go through with it, and nothing was going to stop her. Draco was practically flying a victory lap on the inside. He was about to give the Weasel's girlfriend the best shag of her entire life. No curses, hexes, or potions. Of her own free will. Merlin, life was sweet. He'd have to thank the Weasel later for being such a screw-up. Maybe send him a bouquet of flowers with a note attached: 'Dear Weasel, Thanks for messing up your relationship so badly that your Mudblood girlfriend came to me for satisfaction. Don't worry, I more than made up for your incompetence. Regards, Draco Malfoy.' Yes, that would enrage him quite nicely.

The next thing Draco knew, Granger was standing in front of him, glaring at him. He chuckled on the inside. "Fuck you, Draco Malfoy," she said. He raised his eyebrows amusedly as she suddenly pulled his head down to kiss her. Ah, the sweet taste of victory. He felt his body thrill in anticipation as he slid his tongue inside her mouth. He wrapped his arms around her to pull her against his body, just in case she got any silly ideas. Then he turned them so he could press her against the wall next to the door.

Draco loved the female body. With its various curves, incredibly soft skin, and hearing the inevitable breathy sighs of pleasure, he was addicted. While he did have certain standards and preferences, he appreciated that every body was different in its own ways. The tastes, the smells, the degrees of softness, not to mention the certain sensitive spots, which could be anywhere on her body, though there were several common spots. One was the soft skin behind the ears, another was the neck area in general. Some liked having the ears themselves stimulated. Many women had sensitive breasts, and others sensitive thighs. It was like one giant scavenger hunt, where the treasure at the end was hearing the screams and moans of orgasmic delight. Every woman's body gave clues to those spots, whether it was in the way her skin rose, or her limbs moved, or her moans and sighs. Every woman gave signs. It was simply a matter of noticing them for what they were. Each woman was a challenge of not only getting her into his bed, but keeping her so satisfied that she begged for more. Draco loved challenges.

Hermione Granger was a challenge, indeed. It had been one thing getting her to voluntarily kiss him, but now that she was determined to stay with it, she challenged him over who was going to be dominant. Naturally, he assumed that he would be the one on top, but Granger apparently had a different idea. Even though she was the one against the wall, her hands were everywhere under his robe and shirt, not that he was complaining. She was just a little more zealous about it than he had expected. But no matter.

Draco unbuttoned his robe, which Granger took as a signal to take it off. Hoping it was a pattern, he moved on to her robe. Granger didn't disappoint. Her robe fell to the floor next to his. He lifted his arms up, and she lifted his vest over his head and that fell on top of the robes. Her vest wasn't far behind. So it went until he was left only in his dark green boxers with his Oxford shirt unbuttoned, barely hanging on his shoulders. She was in her uniform skirt, white underwear, and matching bra when she paused and removed her hands from his chest. He watched her curiously.

Granger bent down and grabbed his vest and her wand from the floor. She walked a few paces behind him and laid it flat on the ground. She bit her lip in concentration and pointed her wand at it, mumbling something. Before his eyes, the vest morphed into a King-sized mattress. Draco was suitably impressed. He hadn't even thought of that. The girl's brain and determination were bloody useful at times like this.

She turned around and plopped down on the mattress, testing it. It must have been to her satisfaction, because she stared up at Draco, grinning seductively for him to come to her. Draco followed without hesitation. Who was this temptress that had taken over Granger's body? Draco didn't really care to pursue the question so long as she kept looking at him like that.

He bent down and crawled over to her, returning her own grin. When he reached her, he captured her lips and moved forward, nudging her to lie down on her back. Instead, she turned to lie down on her side. When Draco mirrored her position, she pushed his chest over and down so that he was on his back, and climbed on top of him. Draco sat up and unhooked her bra in retaliation. He slid it down her arms and then flung it to the side. She giggled and rubbed his chest with both hands. He cupped her perky, smallish breasts in his hands and massaged them, making her moan loudly.

Breasts are sensitive, he noted. He slid one hand down to her skirt and slowly inched it up her thigh, testing her reactions. She shivered and her mouth opened silently, her breathing harsh. Thighs are more sensitive. When he reached her underwear, he lightly rubbed over them, especially toward the front. She gasped let her head drop forward, concentrating on grinding herself against his fingers. Draco smirked. He used his unoccupied hand to help guide her hips while he bent forward and sucked her left breast into his mouth. She squeaked in shock, but her hips moved faster and grinded harder, telling him he was on the right path. After a minute or two of slowly building her up, her gasps and moans told him she was almost there. He switched breasts and felt her heart pounding quicker. He had his tongue work its magic on her nipple while he focused on slipping his hand underneath her underwear. He wet his finger with her juices and rubbed her most sensitive spot.

With him rubbing and sucking, and the occasional stroking of her inner thigh with his other hand, he wasn't surprised at all that she orgasmed soon after.

Her head flew back and her mouth opened in a soundless scream, her expression completely illuminated by a beam of moonlight. Her hands clutched his shoulders in a death grip, her hips still riding out the wave of sensation. Draco smirked in satisfaction. He sucked on her neck to mark her as she came down from her high, panting heavily.

Merlin, she's beautiful when she orgasms. I'd probably be able to tolerate her personality if I could do this to her every night. Draco froze for a moment, then shook his head. His horniness was getting to him. He looked at Granger again, who was a vision of complete ravishment. Her lips were still puffy, her nipples were perked up from his attentions, she now had a noticeable hickey on her neck - Ha! Try explaining that to Weasel! - and her eyelids were fluttering, probably due to post-orgasm sleepiness. Oh well. He'd just have to wake her up by getting her riled up again. He couldn't wait to buy that bouquet of flowers for the Weasel. Should he get one type of flower or a variety? Which would be more insulting? Red roses maybe?

***/***

"Granger..."

Hermione was getting tired. She could now say the rumors were true, even without having had sex with him yet. He was a fantastic lover. What Ron couldn't (wouldn't?) figure out over the course of two years, Malfoy had figured out in about five minutes. Well, maybe ten. It was hard to keep track of time when he was...er, working his magic. She giggled internally. Oh, yes, magic it was.

"Hmm?" she responded sleepily. Her head was still sort of foggy, too. It really made her wonder, had Malfoy truly just given her the best orgasm of her life? So far, absolutely. But if it was all downhill from here, that was quite depressing, wasn't it?

"What kind of flowers does Weasel like?"

That's an odd question. The randomness of the question woke her up a bit. "Huh? Why do you care what kind of flowers he likes?"

Malfoy smirked. Uh oh. He's up to something. "I'll tell you after. What is it?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I don't think he even has one. He labels flowers under the category of 'girly things I'll never like', so I'd have to say none. Why?"

Malfoy's eyes lazily raked her chest. She looked down and blushed. She had completely forgotten that she was naked from the waist up. Thank Merlin I'm still at least wearing my skirt and underwear, even if the latter is soaking wet.

With as much dignity as could gather, she got off of Malfoy's lap and walked over to retrieve her clothes from the pile they had left from. "Malfoy, have you seen my bra? It's not over here."

"Yes."

She turned to him, holding her clothes over her chest, but she couldn't see it. He smirked at her. She frowned impatiently. "Well, where is it?"

She watched Malfoy lean over the side of the mattress and scoop up a shoulder strap with a finger. He dangled it in the air. "Right here."

She glared at him and stalked over in front of him. She tried to snatch it from his grip, but his hand moved. "Now why would you need your clothes, Granger? I'm not done with you yet."

She raised her eyebrow. "Well, you started talking about Ron, so I assumed that meant you were done with me."

He chuckled and tossed her bra far behind him.

"Hey!" she complained, watching her bra fall into a shadowy corner.

Malfoy got on his knees and slid his hands up along her bare legs, under her skirt. "I promised you sex, didn't I?"

Hermione blushed. "Well, yes, but, like I said, you started talking about Ron, so I guessed that you meant sometime later, or, well, something. Besides, I can let you off the hook just this once." She tried to keep her voice steady but it cracked slightly when one of his thumbs started rubbing her inner thigh. She shivered.

"Granger," he tutted. "I don't do charity. I'm getting something out of this, too, you know." When both hands reached her hips under her skirt, he caressed the bare skin for a few moments before sliding her underwear down. He grinned at her shaken expression. "Get down here, before you fall and hurt yourself."

Hermione wet her lips and stepped out of her underwear on the floor. She kneeled down onto the mattress, clutching her other clothes tighter to her chest. She gnawed on her lip. "You never answered my question."

Malfoy leaned over, gently tugged her clothes from her grip, and threw them over his shoulder. She watched them go just like her bra. "Oh? What was the question again?" he replied absentmindedly. He stood up and shed his shirt and boxers before kneeling back down onto the mattress.

She stared at his naked body while he gently pushed her down onto her back and immediately set to work undoing her skirt, which caused her to stutter when she spoke. "You asked, um, what-t kind of flowers Ron liked. A-and...um, I asked you, why did you want t-to know?" He nudged her hips up and slid the skirt down and off her legs. She was completely naked and nervous, yet he looked the same as if he were wearing all his clothes, completely confident. She licked her lips and then bit her bottom one.

Malfoy crawled up her naked form, feasting with his eyes as he moved. She closed her eyes and sighed as the heat from his body warmed her. She suddenly remembered that she had never shut the window from earlier, which would explain why it was slightly drafty and cold, and thus his body heat was so welcome. He nudged her legs open wide enough for him to lay down on top of her between them. Her mouth opened soundlessly in awe of the sensations. She fought the urge to wrap her legs around his waist and rub her body against his. His skin was soft, but the muscles underneath were solid, which gave her something to grind against. Her whole lower half tingled in anticipation, but something in the back of her mind nagged at her. They had been having a conversation about something important...

He grinned sinfully and kissed her. "Ready?" he murmured against her lips.

With every stroke of his tongue he fogged up her brain, obscuring everything but her body's demand for his touch, which only increased. Merlin, Ron never affected me like this... Yes, they had been talking about something dealing with Ron and a question...a different one. She couldn't think when he was assaulting her mouth like it was the fabled Fountain of Youth. She broke the kiss and tried to focus. What was the question she wanted him to answer? She had once read that the Fountain of Youth had been believed to be located in what was now the American state of Florida, which was Spanish for "Flowered Place". She had no doubt that if Malfoy thought the Fountain of Youth existed, he'd plunder it just as avidly as he had plundered her mouth. He was that vain. Flowers! It was about him getting Ron flowers! She blinked and shook her head to clear it.

"Wait, you're avoiding the question again!" she scolded him. She sat up a little, not caring that she was practically shoving her breasts in his face, not that he seemed to mind one jot. "What's the answer?"

Malfoy took a breast in his mouth. Hermione moaned at the contact, but didn't want to give up just yet.

"M-Malfoy, just answer the question!" she panted.

Instead, he added his hands to the mix, sliding them lightly over her naked skin, rubbing here and there. He's trying to distract me on purpose! He doesn't want me to know! Bloody lying git! While it would have been so incredibly easy to let Malfoy bend her to his will, she detested the idea that he could get away with something by using his body as a distraction. That gave her enough strength to fully sit up and shove his hands off her where she could reach. She glared at him and pushed his shoulders so that his mouth came off her breast. Then she crossed her arms across her chest as meager protection.

"Malfoy, I'm not going to let this happen until you tell me what you're hiding."

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'll tell you after."

Her glare narrowed. "No, you won't. That's what you said before and I'm still trying to drag it out of you."

"Fine. It's nothing terrible, I promise. I was just going to send him some flowers, that's all."

She frowned. "Right. And why would you want to send him flowers?"

He grinned wickedly. "Oh, you know. To thank him."

"...For?"

"For driving his girlfriend straight into my bed. Or, I suppose, arms might be more appropriate since we're nowhere near my bed. Or perhaps just straight into a bed."

She blinked. And that would be the 'revealing this at an inopportune time' part. She had never felt so stupid before in her entire life. She had known from the start that doing this would be trouble, but she had still managed to deceive herself into thinking it wouldn't be so bad. If Ron ever found out, he would go berserk, which was exactly what Malfoy wanted, and was going to do. She had to stop the damage now, before it got any worse.

She took a deep, rage-focusing breath, opened her eyes, and slapped Malfoy with all her might. She shoved him off her and scrambled up. She picked up her wand, yelled "Accio clothes!" and started getting dressed.

Malfoy stood up, holding his hand to his cheek, and glared at her. "I thought you wanted revenge."

She finished zipping up her skirt and pulled her shirt over her head. She glared right back. "Not that kind of revenge, you idiot! Telling him defeats the whole purpose of doing this in the first place! It was supposed to be a secret that I kept with me - that not another soul aside from us two knows about - so I can say that I've at least had fun in my life. I'm not trying to lose my two best friends in the entire world!"

Malfoy laughed derisively, dressing himself. She clearly wasn't going to go any further with him. "And so you chose me of all people, to have sex with? Oh, yes, Granger. That's intelligent."

Hermione held back the tears and lamented that they were right back where they started. She was pouring her heart out and he just didn't care, like always. Stupid, stupid Hermione! "I didn't choose you out of all the others! If you remember correctly, I was depressed and you offered! There's a difference!" she yelled. "Merlin, I knew this was a bad idea," she sighed, shaking her head. She turned to head for the door.

"Yes, I do remember! The only reason you accepted my offer in the first place was because no other bloke would have you!" he yelled back viciously.

She froze with her hand on the door handle and held back a sob with her other hand. She slowly turned around to face him and gave him a death glare.

"Fuck you, Draco Malfoy," she said with barely controlled rage. The next moment, she was out of the room and slammed the door shut behind her.

***/***

Draco watched her leave and wished every vile curse he could think of on Hermione Granger, which were quite a few. That girl always managed to get under his skin, even when he thought he was in control. At the time, he had recognized it was a crazy idea to even attempt to sleep with her, but he just couldn't bear the thought of a sobbing, broken Hermione Granger. It went against the code of the universe. Granger was tough and angry; anything else was just wrong. Honestly, she ought to be thanking him. He had managed to bring her back to her feisty old self in no time, and simultaneously gave her her first real orgasm. Bloody brilliant is what he was. He should win some kind of award for making the prissy chit let loose like that.

He sighed. Unfortunately, despite how it ended, he was still riled up. Bloody Granger. She didn't even have the courtesy to return the favor, he huffed silently. So ungrateful.

He changed the mattress back to his vest and cleared all the spells he had placed on the door. Maybe that Greengrass girl will be up for a go tonight. She hadn't been that bad. He grinned at the thought of another chase and conquest. Draco Malfoy is back on the prowl! He chuckled to himself and exited the tower.

A/N 2: I edit the crap out of each chapter to avoid simple grammar/spelling mistakes, but I'm far from perfect, so feel free to let me know if I missed anything. Also, please review to let me know if this story is promising enough to deserve the hours that go into editing it. I know this one chapter isn't much to go on, but even telling me "I need more chapters to decide if I like this story or not!" is enough to keep me motivated. As mentioned at the beginning, this chappie is super angsty because it's mostly background info, but there will definitely be more humor in the next chapter!

Hope you're well!

-BDShadothe-