Chapter 1: Mistakes

It was a beautiful evening at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Exams were fast-approaching for its many students, but with the weather the way it was, they couldn't help but feel hopeful for the summer that was surely just around the corner.

Three such students were in the Great Hall that night, eating dinner. Hermione Granger, her best friend Harry Potter, and her on-again-off-again-it's-fucked-up-and-I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it love interest Ron Weasley, were all enjoying roast potatoes and smoked pork.

Through a full mouth, Ron asked, "Hermione, you don't think that you can help me with my Potions essay, do you? Slughorn might not mark as hard as Snape but I'll be damned if I can figure this one out."

She rolled her eyes and sighed, "You're on your own for this one, Ronald. I've got Potions of my own to do."

Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice, "What? I thought you finished that essay weeks ago!"

"I did, Harry. If you must know… Professor Slughorn is allowing me to make-up the credit I lost to… that book of yours today."

Harry sighed an exasperated sigh. He hadn't stopped hearing about the goddamned book all year, why couldn't she just give it up?

Hermione pulled a small vial of a translucent liquid out of her bag. Harry and Ron knew the potion well, as they had just been making it that day.

"You brewed more Amortentia already?" Ron asked incredulously. Harry nudged him, and he remembered who he was talking to.

Sure enough, Hermione shrugged it off as if it was no big deal. "Professor Slughorn said that if I could remake the potion better than the first time, I'd receive full credit. Since not all of us have evil potions books to help them cheat their way through the class, I decided to take advantage of the opportunity," she said with a huff.

Harry smiled, "Well, you could have just asked. The Prince has a great recipe for Amortentia that seems to work a lot better than yours."

"I don't CARE about The Prince or his recipes! I'll follow the book, thank you very much, and for your information, this is brewed perfectly, I checked."

She stood up and turned to leave. "I'm going to drop this off at Slughorn's office," she said, "I'll meet you back in the Common Room."

Harry and Ron shrugged. They might have followed her if she was in a better mood, but they'd much rather keep their distance when she wasn't. They waved and set off in the opposite direction, toward the Gryffindor Common Room.

Hermione was striding past the Slytherin table, potion held close to her chest, not looking at any of them, when suddenly she ran right into Blaise Zabini, who was quite a bit taller than her. Of course he had stepped out in front of her, but she couldn't imagine why.

"What the hell, Granger! I'm gonna have to wash these now!" Blaise whined, and wiped some invisible dirt from his robes.

Hermione ground her teeth, "I'll give you something to wash them over," she said, and she spit on him.

She stood there, amazed at her own daring, before Blaise snatched the vial out of her hands and, knocking her over, turned to have a whiff.

"Oooh, what are we brewing here Ms. Granger? A love potion to snare some pathetic blood traitor? My, my, how the mighty have fallen. Well, it won't work on me, mudblood!"

Hermione just groaned. She had fallen rather hard to the stone floor, and so as she regained her senses, she failed to notice that a drop off the top of the vial went into Draco Malfoy's pumpkin juice. Staring into space, his food untouched, it seemed that Draco had other things on his mind as well.

Hermione stood up and pulled out her wand. "Now is not the time for games, Zabini. Give me the potion!"

Much to her surprise, he just handed it to her. She looked at him suspiciously, but carried on her way. She vaguely heard Blaise sitting down next to Malfoy and encouraging him to drink his pumpkin juice. That was odd, Hermione thought. She never saw Zabini and Malfoy as particularly close.

She strode out of the Great Hall and down the corridor. The halls were mostly empty; students were either back in the common rooms, eating dinner, or out enjoying the start of what looked to be a fine Friday evening.

Several minutes passed as she walked down the halls, lost in thought. She was still stewing about how much of a prick Blaise Zabini was when she knocked on the door to the main potions classroom. Receiving no response, she found the door unlocked and entered.

The classroom was deserted. Several potions, from previous lessons, Hermione assumed, sat brewing on the desks. Only dim candlelight stopped the room, located in the dungeons, from being utterly dark.

"Professor Slughorn?" she called out. No reply. She stepped forward to the door to Slughorn's office, located at the back of the class. She knocked timidly. She was unsure why she seemed so unsettled to find the classroom deserted, after all, most of the staff were currently taking dinner, but she didn't see him at the staff table while she was in the Great Hall.

Her knocking had gone unanswered, so she spoke through the door, "Sir, it's Hermione Granger. I brought the potion you asked me to make up."

She was contemplating just leaving the vial there with a note when she noticed a shadow appear by the entrance to the classroom. She whirled around, taken by surprise, to find Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway.

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Hermione felt severely suspicious, he was just… watching her, and not in a good way either. There was a glint in his eye that hinted at something that made Hermione deeply uncomfortable. Without any taunts in his voice, or a delighted smirk on his lips, or cruel laughter in his eyes, Malfoy looked, well, he looked different, Hermione thought. She would never admit to herself that he looked good, but she'd never seen him in this light before. Frankly she figured it was because she had never had a good chance to look at him without being embarrassed somehow.

But now, something was different. He just watched her, and she him, and after what seemed like a long while, she said "What do you want, Malfoy? Professor Slughorn's not here."

He seemed entirely unphased by this news as he stepped forward, toward her. Hermione panicked slightly, "What do you want, Malfoy?" Her voice rising an octave higher than its usual.

But still, he strode forward, the same strange glint in his eyes. It wasn't something she'd seen before. He didn't look dangerous, it wasn't a mean look, in fact his face seemed entirely expressionless, but it made her knees quiver slightly nonetheless.

He kept walking until he was only a foot away from her. And then in a slow, silken voice he murmured, "I want you, Granger."

Hermione gasped, half in embarrassment, half in shock. Clearly he was toying with her. If Ron Weasley couldn't even appreciate her, how on EARTH could Draco Malfoy find it in himself to? No, one doesn't suddenly jump ships like that. He was playing with her for some reason, and she would find out why.

She pulled out her wand and pointed it at him. He hesitated. "What do you want, Malfoy?" She asked again, her voice cold and insistent. She tried to keep an edge of pleading from it, unsuccessfully. Hermione was seriously worried.

"You know, you're making this unnecessarily difficult," he said softly. "All I want is you. Now. On this very table, even." He gestured to the grouping of desks beside him.

She looked into his eyes again. They seemed particularly bright, a swirling silver instead of the usual dull, steely grey. She tried reading them, to see if there was anything in them that would give his intentions away. And upon second glance, she did notice something in his eyes.

The glint, she had seen it before. She saw it in Lavender Brown's eyes every time she looked at Ron. It was lust. And he was looking at nothing but her. Clearly something was deeply afoot if Draco Malfoy was telling the truth to her. She racked her brains for why, why this could be.

And it dawned on her. With slow horror, she raised the vial to eye level, and sure enough, a miniscule amount of the potion was missing. That son of a bitch. Hermione was rarely prone to cursing, but with Draco Malfoy in front of her, under the effects of a love potion, she felt appropriate to let fly a few more choice words.

Almost momentarily, she considered the alternative. Here she was, alone in a classroom, with Draco Malfoy, and (why lie to myself anymore, she thought) he was a) one gorgeous hunk of meat b) Infatuated with her to the point of bursting thanks to the most powerful love potion in existence.

Next her mind flitted to Ron. She toyed with the idea that this was dangerously close to her becoming unfaithful to Ron, but really with the things Lavender had probably done to him, she wasn't too concerned. She rolled her eyes and ground her teeth. Possibly seeing the look on her face, Draco stopped his advances. While she considered the ramifications of having a very horny Malfoy alone with her, he had closed the gap between them, without her even realizing it.

She automatically took a step back, even if he was harmless, albeit desperately wanting to shag her brains out. She needed to find an antidote. She scurried across the class and opened one of the cupboards in front of her to look for a potions textbook. She'd rather not have to explain to Madam Pomfrey that Draco Malfoy was under the effects of a love potion. She'd die of embarrassment first.

Searching the cupboard, she was utterly unaware that Draco had come up behind her until she could feel his hot breath on her neck, and his hands roaming across her waist. It made her hair stand up, and she shuddered involuntarily.

She spun around and attempted to force him away, but instead his lips crashed to hers. He was ferocious; his desperate need clear from the passion of his kiss. It was then that Hermione decided not to bother looking for an antidote. Why not? It's not like Ron's going to be giving me any in the near future.

Sensing her change in stance, Draco's passion doubled. His tongue had slowly worked its way around her lips, and Hermione found herself responding in altogether un-Hermioneish ways. Why the hell not? He'd never tell a soul about this anyway. She smirked into his kiss and returned it as best as she knew how.

Draco was close enough that she could feel the bulge in his trousers. Fortunately there were no robes between them, the summer weather having forced all of the students to dress as lightly as possible.

Despite the tension in his pants, Draco didn't seem quite ready to let loose just yet, and this suited Hermione just fine. She moaned very softly and stood, bracing herself against the cabinet behind her, as Draco kissed and sucked ever so slightly at her neck. He was kissing her so quickly, and so lightly, but each time his lips met her skin, it was like fire, so intensely hot it was cold, and another part of her body aching in response.

She attempted to unbutton the blouse she was wearing, fumbling with the buttons, her hands shaking from nerves. She gave up as Draco's steady hands, guided by Amortentia, easily undid the buttons down her front. Gradually he trailed the kisses lower and lower, down the shallow indentation of her collarbone, and across the swell of her breasts, pert and well formed. Her back was practically arching toward him, and it seemed that at long last, she too was in desperate need.

Draco paused in his kissing to look up at her. She looked down to see why he had stopped, and noticed the simple black bra that had momentarily halted Draco's advances.

"Surely you can manage that much, Granger." A ghost of a smirk passing over his face. Even under the effects of the most powerful love potion in the world he can still be an ass, she thought with a sigh. Her hands still shaking, she gave him a pleading look.

"Very well." He did not particularly seem to mind the opportunity to reach behind her back and unclasp the bra. Hermione let it fall to the floor, along with her shirt. Even before it had reached the ground he was upon her. She gasped in pleasure as his tongue found one of her nipples, while his fingers lightly danced around the other. Draco spun her around so that she was leaning over one of the desks, and pushed her gently back so that she was lying flat on top, her legs dangling over the edge. She was seeing stars; the amount of pressure Draco was applying as his tongue swirled round was causing her to shiver.

He switched to the other nipple, and she moaned again, low and steady, as he sucked gently on it, flicking the other with his index finger. By now, her need had become paramount, and she was about to order Draco onward when he stopped and began trailing kisses down her abdomen. Apparently he was also in need of relief. This made Hermione feel at least a little more comfortable, the thought that Draco couldn't completely control her. Her skirt was worn low to protect her modesty, the curves of her hips clearly visible. He traced along the lines with his fingers, cold and dexterous. By this point he didn't even bother asking her to dignify herself enough to remove the skirt on her own. He yanked it free and down her legs, only a pair of black panties between Draco Malfoy and what he wanted.

Hermione, despite being in what one may consider a sexual haze, still noted blissfully that her choice in underwear that morning had at least saved her some embarrassment, as the dark colouring had nicely hidden the large wet spot that had developed thereabouts. She knew that Draco had spotted it as he stuck his thumbs in her waistband and smirked, but he pulled them down without comment anyway.

Hermione braced herself. She was unsure of just how much of this she could take. Before she knew it, Draco had slipped a finger within, and as he gently bent it, slowly forcing it in and out, a moan of ecstasy escaped her lips. She waited, waited, for what she was sure was coming.

But it never did. She looked up to see Draco standing back, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he unzipped his trousers. They quickly hit the floor, his boxers soon following. And with dawning horror, Hermione realized that he was only semi-hard.

Wow. Alright then. Maybe he does have complete control over me, she mused as she sat up, got her legs, and then dropped to her knees.

"You're a quick learner," he grinned at her as she approached his large member. She attempted her best confident smile and replied, "What makes you think I haven't done this before?"

He laughed instead of replying, and Hermione decided that trying to banter with him would get her nowhere. Going on instinct mostly, Hermione took Draco's cock in her hands and slowly began to slide it up and down. When he leaned back slightly, and his breathing quickened, she grew more confident, using one hand to traverse the length of his shaft until he grew fully hard.

She stepped back to admire her handiwork. Hermione had admittedly not seen much of the male anatomy in her day, but from all that she had gleaned, and from her impressions alone, she was impressed. He stood straight up at attention, and Hermione decided to go out on a limb and return some of the action. I'll give Draco Malfoy a blowjob. No big deal. She did not even allow herself to think of what the fallout of all this would be. She needed that dick in front of her, and as it stood, she would do whatever she needed to get it.

Shimmying forward slightly, still on her knees, she looked up at Draco. He seemed amused and expectant, as though he could guess what was coming but never saw it happening. She dropped his gaze and slowly lowered her lips to the tip of his cock. There was an instant response as it twitched between her lips, and she assumed that she must be doing something right as she lowered herself further over him, testing the feel of it in her mouth. She pulled up slightly, and Draco inhaled sharply, and then again lowered her lips down his shaft. She figured this was about the extent of it (no need to get fancy and have thing ends early, she thought), and picked up the pace. She would focus just on the head for a time, and then work her way back down the shaft again, Draco groaning all the while in her midst. This went on for a time, and Hermione concluded that she didn't abhor the experience, at least not to the extent that she thought she would. Plus having Draco under her thumb like this was a sort of sadistic pleasure all in itself.

Suddenly, his hand stroked her face, and she knew that it was time. He lifted her back onto the desk and she laid flat, preparing for whatever pain, pleasure, or world-ending catastrophe could follow. She was about to have sex with Draco Malfoy, after all, the boy who had spent the last six years of his life taunting her at every opportunity.

Her last thoughts were I love magic, before the world exploded. Hermione was in sensory overload. The pain, overwhelming at first, had quickly died, to be replaced by immense pleasure, as Draco slowly began working his way in and out, not trying to force any more of his length inside her. This was an epiphany. Hermione had never experienced anything like it in her life, like a veil had been lifted from her eyes. There was a whole realm beyond her imagining, and it was beautiful.

Draco seemed to have experienced a similar vision, and his pace increased. He groaned as he stretched her legs apart to accommodate more of him, with one hand bracing himself on the desk, and another resting on her abdomen, the thumb periodically pushing into her clit. Her eyes were closed, her face scrunched up, beads of sweat rolling down her forehead. It wasn't particularly hot in the classroom, but the pleasure made it feel like her body was a million degrees, like she could burst into flames herself at any minute.

Hermione gasped in outrage as she felt Draco's thumb leave her clit. She was about to sit up as she felt Draco's now warm hands lifting her legs. She was about to ask him what the point was when she yelled out in surprise. Draco had been lifting her legs so that he could fit more of his length within her. He was now completely inside her, she could feel his smooth skin against hers, and felt the gentle slap as he began rhythmically pounding into her with his full length.

This was twice as good as before. Draco would pull all the way out, to the point where the tip was only barely inside of her. She would moan, beg for him, and then he would slam back in, his cock fully re-entering in one fluid motion. It was the height of pleasure, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to hang on much longer.

It progressed for several more minutes, heightening, building, until, quite suddenly, Draco pulled out and, with an animalistic cry, let go on top of Hermione. None of his seed traveled far enough for any mess, but her breasts and abdomen were thoroughly coated. She was on the brink of her release and she screamed for him, not caring who heard, what happened, anything, and he frantically ground the head of his cock into her clitoris.

He watched as her lips tightened, as the shudders wracked her body, her back arching up and down in rapid succession. He slowly pulled out the last of his cum until all that he had to offer was on Hermione's chest. She lay flat on the desk once more, breathing heavily.

Draco leaned back against the cabinet, attempting to catch his breath as well. He grinned weakly and returned to his clothes. Hermione managed to sit up enough to see the colossal mess that Draco had left on her body. It looked impressive. It was everywhere. She didn't know just why Malfoy had pulled out… But thank god he had. She didn't even want to think about what could have happened if he didn't.

She searched for her wand, but realized that it was on the cabinet across the way. She dared not move. Malfoy seemed to notice her predicament and came over and, with a flick of his wand, cleaned up for her.

She returned to her clothes as Draco began to watch her longingly again, already redressed. She knew that she would have to sort out an antidote before Slughorn got back. Again as she searched for a textbook Draco had managed to close the distance between them impossibly fast and was, once more, sucking lightly on her neck.

She heard a light cough and looked up so fast that she nearly hit her head on the cabinet. Professor Slughorn was standing in the door.

"Professor Slughorn! Oh… Er… Well, I can explain!"

Professor Slughorn took a long, measured look between Hermione and Draco. A smile twitched to his lips, beneath his bushy mustache. "No need, m'dear. I can see perfectly well what's happened here. I'll correct my records to give you full marks for today's work."

"But Professor-"

"Amortentia, expertly brewed. You can see it in his eyes, if you look closely. You'd best be going, we wouldn't want him doing anything… untoward to you while under its effects. Although I daresay by the way he was attached to your neck I somehow wonder whether you would mind or not."

Hermione blushed a fierce crimson as she grabbed her bag and exited the classroom as quickly as possible. The last thing she heard before rushing down the hall was Slughorn, in an appraising voice, saying "Draco my boy, I think you've found a place at my next gathering!"

A/N: If you feel that my portrayal was out of character for Draco (Rather subdued), you have to remember that, while under the effects of Amortentia, he's clearly not himself, and his desire for Hermione basically overrules any desire for sarcastic comments and the like. I really don't give a damn, but so you know, I'm well aware that the brewing of Amortentia occurred at the beginning of the year in the canon timeline. Whatever. Hope you enjoyed!