Hello, all. I apologize for the lengthy wait. I received a few comments threatening bodily harm, so thanks for not actually hurting me! I know I don't update regularly, so I just want to thank everyone who's kept up with this little fic, and especially those of you who've kept commenting during my prolonged absences. Giving In was originally supposed to have been a one-shot, and all the awesome feedback I've received has kept me coming back.

Now, for the next installment.

Oh, and please remember that this story is rated M for a reason! That will be all. Enjoy :)

Giving In- Chapter 6

Sweet Merlin was his cock stiff.

Every step he took was torture as he strode purposefully towards the nearest lavatory, glad that his ample robes concealed the considerable swelling.

Draco was relieved to find it empty, and locked himself into a stall, quickly freeing his engorged flesh from its confines.

He let out a groan as he stroked himself once, twice, and again- quickly becoming lost in the sensation of his fingers wrapped around his shaft, imagining another, more delicate hand replacing his own.

Gods but this wasn't going to be enough.

He knew it the moment he saw Granger's image in his mind, leaned against the wall, shirt and bra pulled apart, skirt scrunched up about her waist. He could still taste her on his tongue and he licked his lips reminiscently as the fire began to spread from his abdomen to his extremities.

He vividly remembered her begging- shouting his name. His tongue on her pussy, and gods she had been wet. He began to pump his cock in earnest.

She wanted him.

"Oh, Gods."

"Draco. Oh, Draco Please."

She wanted him. He knew it, and the thought was exciting- exhilarating because Draco wanted her in a bad way. Possibly the worst because he'd do just about anything to have her.

Hermione was different. He knew this, and was aware that he couldn't rely on his usual charms when it came to the brightest witch of their age.

He knew that Hermione wasn't the type to just give herself over to him, but Draco was overwhelmed with the need to possess her completely.

"Oh, Draco."

His breath was coming in short pants as he continued to pump, and he trailed his thumb over the sensitive head, imagining Hermione's tongue on his cock. Taking him into her mouth. Head bobbing up and down and up and-

"Oh, gods." He breathed, releasing himself into the toilet. Draco brought a hand up to the wall, supporting his weight as he caught his breath.

No. That certainly hadn't been enough. But it would have to do- at least until he caught up with the curly haired little vixen that had driven him to such a state.

Draco performed a Scourgify and zipped himself away before exiting the stall. He stepped up to the sink and turned the knob engraved with a C.

He splashed his face a couple of times, the frigid water sending shivers down his spine- doing away with what remained of his erection.

Draco met the questioning gaze of his reflection in the mirror. What was it about Hermione Granger that evoked such extreme reactions out of him?

Blackmail? Coercion?

But, of course after their little rendezvous, Draco found that he didn't much mind resorting to such tactics when it came to having his way with the pretty little know-it-all. Just so long as he got his way.

Still, the bloody witch had him running off for a mid-day wank like an undisciplined third year, and he didn't appreciate the way he seemed to lose control in matters involving Granger.

Get a grip, mate. He splashed his face once more, shaking his head to dispel the disturbing thought. He was a Malfoy and Malfoys were always in control.

Draco exited the lavatory, heading towards the Great Hall for lunch. He slipped his hands into his pockets and he came across the remains of a familiar lace garment.

And he smirked in smug anticipation, remembering one of the most valuable lessons that Lucius had ever taught him.

"You can't just sit idly by, expecting things to fall into your lap. In order to get what you want in this world, son, sometimes you just have to take it."

And Draco thought that sentiment extended to his current situation perfectly.

She could feel him. Merlin help her, but Hermione could feel his eyes- like an x-ray- penetrating her robes, her uniform, her skin, her soul. She could feel his gaze, and it never shifted- never faltered- inciting the appearance of goosebumps on her flesh, and Hermione burned beneath his scrutiny. Skin tingling in remembrance of what he'd done to her just hours prior.

Gods how was she supposed to get through the rest of the day- not to mention the rest of the school year- with this-with him- looming over her?

"I want you. And- you should know- Malfoys always get what they want."

Hermione released a shaky breath.

Harry cast a sideways glance in her direction, quirking a worried brow when he noticed his mate was uncharacteristically distracted from their Potions lesson. In fact, Hermione's hand hovered over her parchment- quill poised- but hadn't recorded a single note. Instead, her normally attentive gaze seemed troubled and unfocused.

Harry jotted a few words on his own parchment, before nudging her in the arm.

Hermione started and glanced over at him, then down at the parchment to which he indicated with his verdant eyes.

Are you okay?

The pretty witch mustered her most convincing smile- which came out as more of a grimace- and nodded her head affirmatively.

But she wasn't. Hermione wasn't okay because she could feel him, and the longer she remained trapped beneath his burning gaze, the more suffocated she felt- his presence coiling about her like tendrils of smoke so that she thought she just might choke on his intent.

"I plan to have you again and again."

"I want my fill of you, witch."

And she knew it was a promise that he meant to keep. Godric help her, but Hermione knew that he had every intention of pursuing her over and over. She knew him well enough to know that Draco Malfoy would not be dissuaded from attaining that which he desired.

And what he desired…was her.

She knew this to be fact, because she could feel him, feel it- the desire, the want- she could feel it in his heated gaze, the way he'd kissed her- touched and licked her skin. He was making his intentions perfectly clear. It was intense and overwhelming and scary, and Merlin, but she thought she might unravel if she remained in his vicinity any longer.

Oh, thank Merlin. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as the bell rang, signaling the end of their final class for the day.

With shaky hands, the studious Gryffindor packed her bag, still very aware of the lecherous Slytherin's eyes on her. She made her way to the door with Harry following closely behind. When they reached the doorway, however, Draco pushed past the raven-haired boy, pressing into Hermione a little too intimately as they crossed the threshold. The witch's heart stuttered a beat, breath hitching as her face began to color.

"Oi! Malfoy!" Harry shouted, shoving the Slytherin away and pulling Hermione in behind him. "Watch yourself!" he threatened.

But Draco didn't spare a glance for The-Boy-Who-Lived, his eyes locked, instead, on Gryffindor's Princess. "My apologies, Hermione." He bowed politely, a smug little smirk playing at his lips, before pivoting on his heel and striding away.

Hermione gaped, taken aback by his boldness, face quickly draining of all color.

"You alright, 'Mione?" Harry asked, glaring at Malfoy's retreating back for a moment, before turning to the witch in question. His mouth quirked into a frown when he took in her appearance.

Hermione also stared after Malfoy, but her face had paled and she looked stricken. Harry placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hermione?"

The physical contact brought her attention over to Harry and Hermione cleared her throat, trying to look composed as she lied. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine."

But, Harry knew better- had sensed something was off with his mate for several days now and was beginning to suspect it had something to do with Malfoy.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Hermione," he started carefully. "Does Malfoy bother you?"

Hermione scoffed, giving him a look as if to say 'it's Malfoy, what do you think?'

Harry shook his head. "No, I mean. Does he-" he paused in discomfort, and Hermione had a sinking feeling she knew where he was going with this. "Is he…inappropriate with you?"

Hermione tried to let out a discrediting laugh, but it came out a little more high-pitched than she'd intended. She cleared her throat once more and aimed for a flippant tone as she spoke. "Harry, please. Draco Malfoy is a pain in the arse, sure, but he's harmless." She shook her head in denial. "More bark than bite, that one."

But Harry looked uncertain, and Hermione continued. "Anyway, you know how he is. He's just trying to get under my skin."

Harry pressed on, not mentioning that Malfoy's tactics seemed to be working. "Are you sure?" His tone was unconvinced. "I didn't like how he was looking at you just now. Or the way he said your name." He paused, his grip on her shoulder tightening slightly, green eyes gazing into her caramel ones meaningfully. "Hermione, you know you can tell me anything right?"

The corner of her mouth quirked up in a little smile, but her eyes remained troubled as she persisted with the lie. "I know Harry, and thank you, but-" she paused. "But really there's nothing to tell."

Harry looked at her dubiously. "But you'd tell me if there was…"

And it was on the tip of her tongue- the truth. She wanted to confess. To unburden herself because she was in over her head and she knew it, but she didn't- couldn't. Hermione couldn't bear to tell him what had happened- what was happening. Could only imagine the look in his eyes when she admitted that she'd foolishly allowed herself to get caught up in Malfoy's twisted game, and now- now there was no stopping it from unfolding.

Her heart twisted a little, but she nodded affirmatively. "Of course, Harry. However, as I said before, there's nothing to tell."

"So living with Malfoy is-"

"Painfully irritating, but nothing more. So stop your fretting, mother hen."

"Okay…" Harry let go of her shoulder, as well as the subject, trusting that his best mate would tell him if anything were truly amiss. He vowed to keep a closer eye on her, however, as well as Malfoy. He may have testified at the Slytherin's trial, but he didn't trust the git as far as he could throw him.

Hermione hesitated outside of the portrait. The troubled witch had spent a few hours in the library- admittedly doing more worrying than studying. She'd really just needed some time away from the disconcerting Head Boy, despite having promised to stop avoiding him.

Unfortunately, she couldn't hide out in the library forever, and had realized that the blond bastard had failed to give back her knickers, despite having agreed to return the garment at their "meeting."

This realization had propelled Hermione to their shared dorm- outrage fueling her every step- up until she reached the portrait of a woman sat atop a rock, overlooking the black lake. The painted lady glanced over her shoulder, meeting Hermione's troubled eyes expectantly.

The Head Girl opened her mouth to speak, but the password caught in her throat and all that came out was a croak, outrage quickly giving way to nerves and insecurity.

Hermione took a deep breath, attempting to calm the erratically beating muscle in her chest. Malfoy had always tormented her, and she thought she should be used to it.

But this was different.

She'd never had a reason to fear Malfoy because she'd always been able to match, and even surpass him, with words and spells.

However, it seemed the Slytherin had finally found something that he could best her in, and had every intention of exploiting his newfound position of power.

Admittedly naïve, and aware of how the scales were tipped, Hermione was lost as to how she should proceed. The only thing she could do, was wrap herself in the remaining vestiges of her Gryffindor courage because she knew that it was time to face her demon.

Thank you all for reading. Hope this chapter was enjoyable. Please review!

Oh, and my apologies for the cliff-hanger ;)