A/N Sorry for the delay, exams and shit. Anyway, onwards.

Granger's POV

The potion bubbled and hissed. I was tempted to hiss right back at it. With the third attempt in just as many weeks, it became more apparent that no amount of red clover was going to stabilise it.

I shut off the heat, letting it cool before putting it in a vial. Important data if nothing else. I swiped a fume soaked bang out of my eyes.

"Still nothing, huh?" Malfoy said, standing close. He stared down at the Potion in distaste. We were both high achievers and this was failure of epic proportions. Perhaps spending half of our project time with my tongue in his mouth and his hand up my shirt wasn't helping. Maybe.

Barely a month ago I would have never have considered sacrificing my grade for a quick grope. Look at me now.

We had moved our weekly meet ups to Friday with the Hogsmeade expedition tomorrow. Malfoy was distracted. Come to think of it, so was I. Harry and Ginny were going on their first official date, leaving Ron and I on our own for the first extended period of time since the break-up. Hoping for a reconciliation, expecting a battle.

I missed him.

"Have you gotten any headway with Blaise's mystery person?" I asked, packing the newts eyes carefully. Damaging the ingredient would certainly put a damper on my grades. Malfoy handed me the container. In the month we've spent together, we had found an expansive number of topics that entertained and fascinated – as long as we stayed away from the mark on his arm and our House alliances.

He groaned in disgust. "No. Ever since he oblivated Pansy, he's been so tight-lipped. It's creepy how he never slips. Whoever it is likes the Cannons and is apparently a total loser."

I laughed. "He said he's in love with a loser?"

"Not in so many words," he smirked. "Can I ask you I question?"

"Sure, as long as I can retain the right not to answer." I stopped packing up the ingredients to look at him.

"It might be awkward."

"Just ask."

"You said sex with Ron wasn't fun," he said carefully.

"Ah." I looked down at my stained fingers. The ink seeping from chopped herbs seeped the ridges of my fingertips. "I suppose I did."

"I was wondering what you meant by that."

I rubbed my index and thumb together, trying to scrub the stain away. The question had to come up at some point and with Malfoy's impeccable timing, it had be the day before I dealt with Ron.

"It's going to sound like I'm whining and living in some fantasy land where sex is always this perfect, romantic thing," I started.

"It's been like with us so far," he pointed out. "Granted we've never actually had sex sex."

I didn't know how to describe the experience so I took my time searching for the words. "It was like Ron was expecting more but was also scared of…" I didn't know what. I sighed. "We had sex and even though it wasn't exactly fireworks, it wasn't so terrible that I wanted to give up on us. I was a virgin, I read, I research, I was prepared for disappointment. I wasn't prepared for him panicking and walking out afterwards."

"He left?"

I nodded. "The sex itself wasn't the problem. Ron was struggling and fighting some internal battle the whole time. I didn't know how to help him." My voice cracked. "And then didn't want to help him because I deserved a better first time. And felt guilty for thinking that."

Before I finished my sentence, I had my head tucked against Malfoy's chest. "You did deserve better."

"I'm a really bad friend," I said my voice muffled in his expensive shirt.

"If you were, you wouldn't be feeling guilty about some errant feeling you were completely entitled to."

I pressed my head harder against his chest. He smelt of branded cologne Ron couldn't have afforded to sample.

Malfoy made me realise that I deserved better than the treatment Ron gave me, but also that we were so much better as friends. If I could make him see that tomorrow, I would be so grateful to this blond man who was a calm balm in my otherwise insane but lonely life.

"You have no idea how much I look forwards to our Saturdays," I said truthfully, head still hidden. I'm more independent and less alone when I'm with him. Realising it sounded like a weird love confession, I stepped away, adding. "Because of the sex."

Liar. You like him.

He gave me an ornery smirk, with such filthy promise I convinced myself I had imagine the flash of disappointment flashing through his eyes.

"Let me give you incentive for next week then," he said, lifting me onto the counter and standing between my legs. I didn't want to tell him that I didn't need the incentive. Memories of his smile was enough. The thought scared me into kissing him, losing myself in the sensation of his tongue wrapping around mine, gliding across my parted mouth.

I hooked my legs around his thighs, plastering myself against his hard chest. In all these weeks, in all these delightful sessions we sent each other tumbling through orgasms, we had never seen each other completely naked.

I guess that's what it meant to have a meaningless affair in a hidden corner of an empty room. We didn't explore, we just chased the pleasurable high.

His fingers danced across my thighs, finding the warmth in between them with practised ease. I twitched forwards, letting go of his robe to press against the counter for leverage.

"More," I said hoarsely.

He stopped stroking my clit, to gently slip the tip of a finger inside, not even to the first knuckle. "Here?" he asked, teasing me with his fingers.

I let my head fall back. It smelled like rosemary, muted gas and the distinct musk of sex and Malfoy.

"Yes," I hissed.

He thrust two fingers in sharply, to the hilt, making my thighs quiver and my orgasm rush through me, soaking his fingers.

Malfoy blinked with surprise, then grinned with such self-satisfaction I rolled my eyes.

"What was that, 10 seconds?" he asked, gently thawing his fingers in and out of my wet opening.

"Shut up," I said, too tired to argue and also feeling like he earned the right to be smug. He slipped my skirt and underwear off, spreading my thighs wide. It snapped me out of my post-orgasm haze.

"Mal – ," I started.

"Trust me," he said, looking straight at me while sinking low enough that his face was right between my legs. I gave him a jerky nod, nervous. We'd – I'd never done this before.

As though sensing my sudden nerves, he pressed a gentle kiss on my inner thigh. His grey eyes stayed fixed on my gaze.

He bent forward, nosing the wet curls on my mound. He took a deep breath, grinning when I spasmed forward in shock.

"You smell so fucking good," he said and I twitched. His words not only sent a flood of heat between my thighs but his cool breath tickled my over-sensitive clit.

"Oh god."

He grinned – bastard knew exactly what he was doing to me. "The first time I touched you, I slept on my hand so I could smell you in my dreams."

"What – " I gasped when he flicked his tongue against my clit.

What were we doing in your dream? I wanted to ask but the question was lost when le licked my pussy with one broad stroke of his tongue from the wet opening to my quivering clit. He licked again, lapping at the wetness he found there.

I reached out to grab his hair. It was smooth and light and long enough to grasp in my tightly clenched fingers. He latched onto my clit, sucking and stroking it with the tip of his tongue. When I moaning gasp escaped my lips, he only sucked harder, with more purpose. He glanced up, his eyebrow quirked. I couldn't look away, just stare at those grey eyes and push his head even closer to all those sensitive nerve endings.

"I want you," I said, my words starting to slur nonsensically as Malfoy brought me to the brink of another orgasm. "I want you inside, your dick – you, fuck. Malfoy." My voice reached a pitch I didn't know my vocal cord could handle.

"My dick wants in too," he laughed, dipping his tongue into my eager opening. My breath hitched.

"Ah," I gasped. "Please."

Just when I was convinced he was going to make me beg some more, he slid two fingers inside me, curling to rub that perfect spot. I cried out, back arching, nipples tight, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. I gushed all over his mouth, his chin, my thighs clamped tight around his head.

My arms gave way.

Merlin. Malfoy.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Hmm," he hummed, pressing a kiss against the hollow of my throat, unbuckling his pants, sliding his dick out. Leant over me, I could press my own kiss against his soaked temple. He dropped his hand to tug at his rock hard, angry red, dick. "You make me crazy, Hermione," he whispered.

I lowered my hand to wrap my fingers against that furiously moving wrist. I sank down slightly, slowly his movements down and guiding the head of his dick to my clit. I glided his cock down the seam of my labia, coating myself with his pre-cum, him with the evidence of my arousal. We were both curled to watch that intimate place, our sweaty foreheads against each other.

"I need to come," he groaned.

I smirked, letting him go so that he could pick up his previous fast strokes. I raised myself enough just to tug my shirt up and my bra down, exposing myself to his hungry gaze.

"Fuck," he whispered, tugging faster, burying his face into my collarbone, looking down. I wrapped my arms around him and felt him tremble when he came, his hot spunk coating my vulnerable stomach and breasts.

He collapsed onto of me, dead weight. I tightened my hold on him.

I never wanted to let go.

It wasn't snowing but there was a crisp chill to the air. I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my coat, wishing I had brought my gloves with me. I glanced sideways at Ronald who had half his face tucked into his scarf. I swear he was taller than I remembered. It couldn't have been that long since we've been together.

"Three Broomsticks?" he asked, jerking his head towards the ever popular pub. I nodded. It was already overflowing with students. The waft of warm air as we opened the door was a welcome sting to my cheeks.

"I'll go find us seats," I said as he went off to buy drinks, our usual order.

Finding a booth, I took off my coat with a relieved sigh. So far, so good. As long as our tempers didn't blow up. He returned with the drinks and we sat in silence interspersed with awkward small talk.

Maybe fighting it out would be easier, I thought despairingly as I sipped at my butterbeer.

The doorbell jingled and I looked up in instinct, cursing as Malfoy, Parkinson, Zabini and Nott walked in, finding seats at the other end of the pub but in our direct line of sight. I was torn between exasperation at our luck and elation seeing Parkinson glued to Zabini's side instead of Malfoy's. I didn't want to slag her off – even in my head – but she really was making her way through the Slytherin boys.

I watched as she gripped Zabini's arm, and kissed his cheek while Nott went to get drinks. Ron tensed besides me.

"Ignore them," I said, sensing an impending disaster. My eyes widened with shock as Ron vibrated with fury."Do you want to leave?" I asked, in panic.

"No," Ron snorted, an angry twist to his mouth. "Why should we leave because they're here?"

"Ok," I said slowly. I placed my hand on his trembling arm, too confused to reassure. Trying to distract him and also with the urge to complain about my project I started rambling about the triple 'E'. "It's going terribly," I stated. "I thought it would be such a good idea to combine the red clover as a stabiliser but it's not working. I've tried dosage, timing, frequency. Maybe it's just not the right ingredient."

Ron nodded, nursing his drink. He listened with an intensity I wasn't used to, but could tell it was more in an attempt to ignore the Slytherin table than any interest in the topic. My eyes flickered to them uncertainly. Did they do something – a rude hand gesture or something – that I missed? What had Ron so enraged?

"Try something else for now, before you lose faith in the entire project," he offered.

I nodded. I doubted I would lose faith in it, not with the partner I had. Unable to resist, I asked. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, don't worry. It was just the shock of seeing them here. Don't you hate working with Malfoy, honestly?"

"No," I said. "Not really." I continued in a rush. "He needs a good grade for his father (Ron snorted scathingly) so he won't sabotage the project. And we think differently so I think Headmistress McGonagall made the right choice with the pairing."

His father had come up several times in our conversations and it reverted Malfoy back into a boy desperate for approval. As much as he pretended otherwise. It hurt to know that someone with such a deep capacity for evil had the most powerful influence on him.

I could tell Ron didn't really believe me and I had a sudden urge to prove him wrong, to show him that Malfoy could be a perfectly pleasant human being. "When he's not surrounded by his cronies, he's not so bad. It's not like he has anything to prove to me."

Ron made a face.

I clenched my hands around the drink. "You think I'm lying? Why would I lie about him being a decent person?"

Ron's blue eyes widened at my outburst, but he didn't back down from the argument. "I do think he has something to prove to you."

That statement deflated my anger quickly. "What do you mean?"

"And you call me oblivious," Ron snorted. "He's obsessed with you; I don't like it."

"Eh?"

I had been reduced to shocked monosyllables. What was Ron on about? Apart from a few cruel remarks and a punch to the face, Malfoy and I had pretty much gone our separate ways. Until now.

"I wasn't the only one who started hating Viktor Krum in 4th year," Ron said simply. He glanced back at the Slytherin table as the 4 occupants stood back up, their drinks empty.

With the way Malfoy's eyes kept twitching to the clock, his fingers playing with the leather gloves in his hands, I could tell he was a nervous wreck. The others were coolly gathering their affairs but I didn't know them well enough to identify a façade.

I remembered how distracted he was yesterday and hoped he wasn't getting embroiled in anything too dangerous.

Malfoy's POV.

Seeing Hermione and Ron sitting with barely an inch of space between them had my head pulsating with anger and jealousy. Even if she loved me, we wouldn't be able to sit that close in public without bringing the terror of Malfoy ancestors upon our head.

Blaise gave me a cool look. Even though they were generally inexpressive I could read the meaning behind them – 'don't get distracted. Not today.'

I gave him a sharp nod, grabbing the drink Nott handed me.

"What are you doing?" I asked Pansy instead who was slobbering all over Blaise.

"Hoping Blaise's lover'll pop out of the crowd in a blind fit of rage," she said and placed another distracted kiss on his cheek, her keen eye on the occupants of the pub.

I raised a thin, translucent brow at my best friend. He just snorted. "Not going to happen, Pans."

"Because he's not here or because he's not the jealous type?"

"Wait, when did we figure out it was a guy?" I asked.

Everyone at the table gave me a deadpanned look.

"We figured that out ages ago, do keep up," Pansy said. "Anyway answer me."

"Nope," Blaise said, disentangling himself from her embrace. She huffed.

"Come on, it'll be a good distraction from what's about to happen." A silence dropped on our table, with everyone catching a horrified breath.

She dropped her hands into her lap. "Are we not going to talk about it?"

"No," Blaise said.

"But – "

"No."

I brought my drink to my lips catching Nott's eyes who was trying so hard to stay out of the tense disagreement that his chair was threatening to topple over.

"How did we get from Blaise's crush to this?" I asked as the pair glared at each other. Blaise's voice rang such finality that even Pansy couldn't really argue. It was the kind of authority I've always dreamt of possessing but struggled with. Malfoys were leaders. Even with someone like Blaise nipping at their heels with born charisma.

My arm burned.

So there really was a meeting today. It was sooner than expected but perhaps better than delaying the inevitable. Still, my heart jumped into my throat, throbbing madly against my jugular. I hissed and Pansy – with her unsubtle ways – dropped her gaze to my arm. Blaise had the common sense to simply empty his drink and stand.

It was going to be a long, dark day.

A/N How's the story so far? The one thing I would hate is a boring story. So hope not.