Note: I can't quite figure out how to reply to reviews… but a big thank you to everyone who has left one, followed or favourited! Also thank you to Jessica for the new story art.

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After a long conversation with Professor Snape, Draco wandered the corridors with mixed emotions. Snape had agreed to help him, that was a good thing. He had insisted on private occlumency lessons every single weekday evening. Draco had no idea how he was going to fit it in alongside trying to fix the vanishing cabinet, homework and studying for his N.E.W.T. exams. Not that he really cared about his grades anymore - there were much more important things at stake.

There was also the fact that Snape seemed to think there was no way that he would be able to learn to keep the Dark Lord out of his mind. That was… Concerning. But Draco fully intended to throw himself into these occlumency lessons one hundred percent. If anyone was desperate enough to master occlumency in a short period of time, it was him. Besides, if Snape was willing to sacrifice every evening teaching him, then surely he must have thought there was even a small chance of him succeeding. Probably just trying to save his own neck…

Not quite knowing why, Draco's aimless wandering ended with him up on the astronomy tower, looking out over the Hogwarts grounds and the surrounding mountains. The sun was just rising, and he saw the odd owl flying past occasionally.

He lay back on the floor, closing his eyes and thinking again about the previous night, cursing Granger to himself. Did she know how much trouble she had caused, losing control of herself like that? Not that he could blame her. But what was his excuse? He had just as equally lost himself in her. The smell of her hair, the taste of her lips, the sound of her voice as she begged for him…

Stop, he commanded himself. Why am I even thinking about her? She was the biggest mistake of my life. With her dirty blood and her inferior magic and her soft, pink lips… And her tight, warm pussy...

He hadn't had much sleep the previous night, what with obsessing over why it had happened, planning how he was going to improve his occlumency, being nervous about how he was going to explain how much he had fucked up to Professor Snape. He was truthfully exhausted - not that he hadn't been since the start of the summer holidays - and it didn't take long before he drifted off into sleep, regretfully pleasant thoughts of Hermione invading his mind.

Draco was lying on the bed in his common room, Hermione was on top of him, sweaty, curvy, and completely naked, save for his Slytherin tie. She rode him passionately, thrusting her hips onto him like a pro.

She leaned forward, kissing and biting his lips, neck, ears, anywhere she could reach. Her breathing was erratic and those delicious moans were escaping her lips. Draco held her hips, using them as leverage to thrust himself into her at her rhythm, savouring the magnificent noises she made every time they came together.

"Draco," she sighed in her ear, "Oh gods, Draco."

He could think of nothing but this very second. Her soft voice in his ear, her breath and lips on his neck, her smooth, tight body moving with his. All he knew was that she made him feel amazing, and that he never wanted to stop touching her, kissing her, fucking her.

Her lips came down on his and he squeezed her hips tighter, thrusting harder, her cries escaping her lips and into his mouth as she squirmed and groaned in ecstasy. She was so close…

"Come for me," he begged her.

"Yes," she gasped, going higher and higher. Then he felt her muscles stiffen, her pussy tightening around him as she cried out, not holding back.

"Fuck! Draco!" she screamed, her nails digging tight in his shoulders. Seeing and feeling her come drove him over the edge, and he grabbed her even tighter, thrusting deeper, harder, until he emptied himself inside her, losing himself completely.

"Hermione…" he moaned.

Slowly he noticed that the soft bed was no longer soft, and the girl on top of him was no longer there. He was lying on the astronomy tower, fully dressed, sweating and with wet pants.

Draco groaned. Fuck.

xxx

Hermione had potions first thing on Monday morning, and she was totally and utterly dreading it. So much so that she actually felt sick, and considered going to the hospital wing to get out of going at all. But there was no use delaying the inevitable - sooner or later, she was going to have to face Draco Malfoy.

She tried to remember the Draco that she hated, the bullying, cruel, spoiled brat that had insulted her for five years straight. But all she could think about was the last time she'd seen him, how he had kissed her, held her, taken her tears away and replaced them with… Well… Pure unadulterated ecstasy. She felt herself squirm in her uniform as she involuntarily re-lived the experience… Again.

Somehow it would have been much easier to walk into potions if she still thought of him as that insufferable brat with the empathy of a goldfish. Or if she knew that she regretted the incident and that she totally didn't shiver every time her thoughts wandered to him - but she did. How could she go back to being insulted by him on a daily basis now, pretending like he hadn't given her the most sensual, mind-blowing experience of her life?

xxx

Draco stood in front of a full-length mirror in his dormitory, straightening his tie. It felt almost soiled after he'd dreamed about the mudblood wearing it. He pushed the image of her naked body out of his mind.

He hated her, just like he hated all mudbloods. No, he hated her more. She had ruined his life. He wanted to curse her into oblivion. How dare she touch him? Kiss him? She was not worthy. If one thing was for sure, he would not be making the same mistake again.

He turned on the spot, and then stormed out of the dormitory, heading to potions class.

xxx

Hermione arrived at Professor Slughorn's classroom alone. Harry and Ron hadn't waited for her, which was unusual - usually they all met in the common room and walked to classes together. Perhaps Harry had wanted to ask the teacher something before the lesson started? That must have been it.

But she pushed the door open, intending to head straight to her usual seat next to Harry and Ron, when she saw her seat was already taken - by Lavender Brown. She felt her heart sink. Ron and Lavender didn't even look up when she arrived, they were too busy giggling together and holding hands. Harry did look up, but he just grimaced at her apologetically.

She glanced around the classroom, hoping to find another spare seat next to one of the Gryffindors. Her heart thudded in her chest as she realised that the only spare seat was next to - of course - Draco Malfoy.

Trying not to make eye contact with him, she walked over, grabbing the seat and, instead of sitting down, she carried it over and put it down next to Harry, perching on the edge of his desk instead. Ha, she thought. Ron and Lavender didn't acknowledge her presence - they probably had forgotten they were even in a potions class, the way they looked lost in each other like lovesick puppies. It made her want to vomit.

She thought she had won until Professor Slughorn arrived. He took one look at her and smiled.

"I'm afraid you can't sit there Miss Granger. We're going to be brewing today and there won't be enough space for you," her heart dropped. "There's a space over here next to Mr. Malfoy, I'm sure he will be very welcoming."

"Of course. Sorry, Professor," she stammered, getting up. Another apologetic glance from Harry. She tried to keep her emotions off her face as she picked up her chair, carrying it back and putting it as far away from Draco as possible whilst trying not to make it obvious that she was doing so. He met her eyes and heat creeped into her face as the memory of Saturday night crept into her head. She sat down and fixed her eyes firmly on Professor Slughorn, who had waited until she was settled before starting to teach.

Unfortunately, despite her best efforts, Hermione could not concentrate on a word Slughorn was saying. She was hyper-aware of Draco's burning presence next to her. She could see his hands on the table in her peripheral vision. The same hands that had grabbed her hair, traced her bare skin and squeezed her hips. Why could she not stop thinking about it? It was the stupidest, most reckless thing she had ever done. So why did she just want to drag him back to her dormitory and do it all over again? She shivered. She was mortified to think about what he would say or do if he knew what she was thinking right now. She prayed he wasn't secretly talented at legilimency.

Professor Slughorn had instructed them to start a potion. Luckily he had written the potion name (Volubilis potion) and page number on the board as Hermione hadn't taken in anything that he had said. She opened her book to the relevant page and went to get the required ingredients.

The class started to work, chopping ingredients and stirring potions. Despite herself, Hermione couldn't help but notice Draco's diligent care and attention when preparing ingredients, adding them to the cauldron, and stirring the potion. The step he was up to involved stirring the mixture constantly, four times clockwise and then one time anti-clockwise, adding a drop of honeywater on every fifth stroke until the potion turned bright pink. Hermione was mesmerised by the look of sheer concentration on Draco's face - his eyes narrowed as he bit the tip of his tongue a little. She couldn't help but think that he seemed a natural at potions making, his focus and talent reminded her of Professor Snape. She wondered whether Draco had grown up playing with a children's potions set, much like muggle children often played with chemistry sets.

"Do you plan on actually brewing your own potion Granger, or were you just going to stare at me for the rest of the lesson?" he said coldly, his eyes not leaving his potion, his hands not faltering from their work.

Hermione averted her eyes immediately, heat flooding her face. What an idiot. She instantly resumed chopping her ingredients, whilst wishing the ground would swallow her up and regretting not following through on her thoughts of feigning illness to skip the class. Very uncharacteristic for her, but apparently she was in quite the habit of behaving uncharacteristically recently.

She started the honeywater stage, trying her hardest to focus her full attention on her own potion and not Draco's. It was difficult because she was so used to the habit of brewing her own potions whilst simultaneously keeping one eye on Harry and Ron in case they started to make a catastrophic error. I wonder if precious Lavender will stop Ron from messing his potions up? she wondered bitterly, her eyes wandering towards them. They were both concentrating on their own potions, all seemed well - for now, anyway.

Thanks to being distracted by Ron and Lavender, she accidentally elbowed Malfoy whilst stirring, causing him to drop his stirring rod into his cauldron.

"Argh!" he snapped. He panicked, fishing it out and quickly resuming stirring. Then he muttered so that Slughorn wouldn't hear; "Stupid mudblood!"

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly, her heart sinking at his insult. She watched as he desperately tried to save his potion. It looked like he had managed to. Draco huffed and said nothing else.

Hermione spent the rest of the lesson feeling like she had been punched in the stomach. He had confirmed what she had already known to be true - Draco Malfoy hated her guts, he had just been caught unawares when she had jumped on him, and he completely regretted the whole thing. He was probably trying his best to forget it ever happened. She tried her hardest not to be disappointed, her eyes stinging with tears as she swallowed, trying to keep them at bay. What was going on with her? Was she really upset that Draco Malfoy didn't like her?

At the end of the lesson, Professor Slughorn came around the classroom, inspecting everyone's potions and giving them a grade. Hermione, astonishingly and despite all of her distractions, received an 'Outstanding', whereas Draco merely received an 'Exceeds Expectations'. She dared to risk a sideways glance at him, and was not shocked to find him glaring at her - obviously he blamed her for him not getting the highest grade. He instantly started packing away his equipment, and, as soon as the class was dismissed, he was first out of the door, not speaking to or waiting for anyone.

xxx

Draco left the potions classroom at the earliest possible opportunity. Granger was a bloody idiot, what was wrong with her, staring at him like that? So much for keeping Saturday's events a secret. She couldn't have made it clearer that something had happened if she had jumped up and down on the table shouting 'I had sex with Draco Malfoy'. And the fact she'd messed up his potion, too. He needed to get away from her before he cursed her for being so intellectually inferior.

He had a free period now, so he headed straight back to his dormitory, dumping his school bag and robe on the floor. He climbed onto his four-poster bed, pulling the green and silver curtains around himself before lying back onto his pillow. He closed his eyes, focusing all of his attention on visualising a thick wall of fog - his occlumency shield. His Aunt Bellatrix, despite being absolutely clinically insane, was quite adept at occlumency, and had spent the summer teaching him it so that he could hide his plans to kill Dumbledore. Obviously his skills were nowhere near good enough to keep secrets from the Dark Lord, but he could keep the average legilimens from infiltrating his thoughts.

Simple occlumency, which he was well practised in, involved pushing down all emotions and completely clearing your mind. But doing it that way would allow the Dark Lord to know that he was hiding something, which would no doubt lead to torture anyway - or worse. He needed to master more complex occlumency; leaving most of his thoughts and memories visible, but locking away just the ones that he needed to hide. That was the aspect he struggled with. As a result, his Aunt Bellatrix now knew all the sordid details of the Slytherin girls he had slept with, including his on-off physical relationship with Pansy Parkinson. She knew about how he was scared of his own father. She knew how he had cried himself to sleep every night ever since he had been given the unspoken ultimatum by the Dark Lord - kill Albus Dumbledore or you and your family will die.

Despite all she had seen, he couldn't allow Bellatrix to see the memory of Hermione. Snape was forgiving, he still had his mind intact. But Bellatrix … She would definitely crucio him. And then she would hunt down Hermione and torture her like it was some kind of spectator sport, before killing her on the spot. Not that I care what happens to the mudblood, he thought spitefully.

He mentally scolded himself for getting distracted, and threw his occlumency shields back up. He allowed some of his more mundane memories to come to the forefront of his mind, before trying to lock away the one he wanted to hide.

The memory flashed through his mind. Leaving the room of requirement. Hearing someone crying and following the sound of Granger's sobs until he found her on the floor. Mocking her until she cursed him. Duelling with her, holding back because he didn't need any more attention drawn to himself right now. Disarming her. Being tackled to the ground.

Lock it up, he commanded himself, angry that the memory was at the forefront of his mind when it should have been at the back. Conceal it. Don't think about it. Get it behind the wall.

The way his heart had fluttered when her lips came crashing down on his. Adrenaline was already pumping thanks to the duel, and the kiss just magnified it by a thousand percent. He had spent the last six months feeling depressed, shutting the world out, trying not to feel anything. But the the way she kissed him, the rush of danger from the fact that it was her, he hadn't felt so alive in a long time. He'd lost control. He'd kissed her back. She was like electricity in his veins, like heroin, and he just couldn't - wouldn't - stop himself. For a moment, just for a very short moment, he got to feel normal. No wizarding war. No purebloods, no mudbloods. No family or dark wizards controlling every aspect of his life. Just a boy and a girl, lost in passion, lost in each other, not a care in the world.

Draco felt his pulse quicken as he remembered the way she had dragged him into the classroom, and how he had thrusted her up against the locked door, kissing and licking everywhere that he could reach.

He groaned, giving in to himself. He slipped his hand down into his trousers, stroking himself as he recalled the moment he realised that he had taken her virginity. He groaned aloud as he heard her voice in his head, begging him not to stop, begging him for more, until he pushed both of them over the edge.

He cried out loudly as he came, shuddering and gasping with ecstasy, with thoughts of nothing except fucking Hermione Granger.