This story is fairly graphic in some parts. If it offends you, I'm sorry.

The characters aren't mine.

The sensation of being awake hits me as soon as I feel the heat of the sun through a nearby window. This morning I feel calm, peaceful, as though I had a very good night's sleep. I feel myself smile ever-so-slightly as I keep my eyes closed and stretch out, a nice, long stretch.

I stretch my legs, my back, my neck, and then my arms. I move them forward, backward a little, and then sideways-

into something warm.

My eyes fly open as I see Draco Malfoy curled up in the bed, still sleeping, next to me.

Crap.

My heart skips an amount of beats likely too unhealthy to count. I blink, hoping that maybe when my eyes open again, he'll be gone.

He isn't.

I don't have to check the sheets to know I'm not wearing my clothes. I can feel them brush directly against my skin as I move, carefully and quietly, away from him.

I try to figure out what it is I did the night before and why it might be that I don't remember it this morning.

Well then again, I realize it doesn't take my Hogwarts education to figure out what it is I did last night.

So I just decide to focus on why it might be that I don't remember it.

Ginny, Lavender, Parvati, and I had met up at Hogsmeade to get together. It had been years since we had seen each other all together and we had wanted to catch up. Ginny and I have kept in contact, of course, but she's always so busy with Harry and the children that we never really get to talk one on one. Lavender became a healer at St. Mungo's, and her work takes up so much time that we have hardly even kept in touch. As for Parvati, she went off and married some bloke from a Quidditch team in Wales. We don't see her much at all.

That, however, is currently not what's important. The Malfoy next to be in bed is.

We went shopping for a while, though we soon grew tired of it. We've since outgrown a lot of the teenaged hobbies like that one- not that I was ever particularly interested in the first place, that is.

I believe it was Parvati who suggested Hog's Head for drinks. I remember a pitcher of butter beer. I also remember not being particularly interested in drinking it, though Ginny convinced me one couldn't hurt. I remember also a pitcher not much later of firewhiskey. I remember being dared to take shots of it. I had had a long day at the Ministry, so I remember thinking it might not be so bad to relax a bit.

I look at the figure next to me and decide I must have relaxed a bit more than I intended.

"Well, well, look what we have here. It's the Mudblood, and some of her filthy little friends."

"Shove off, Malfoy."

He had been drinking a great deal before even approaching us. I remember he staggered as he walked. He sat next to me.

"But my, Granger, you've grown quite a bit."

He had blatantly observed my chest at the statement. I remember being disgusted.

"I do believe, Malfoy, that particular area of growth is of no concern to you."

Then there was another shot of firewhiskey.

And another.

And possibly another.

"Well, Hermione, I really ought to get home. Harry will be worried sick."

"Okay, Ginny, goodnight."

I vaguely remember a hug.

"Will you be okay here?"

She gave Malfoy a significant look.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine."

Perhaps I shouldn't have said that last bit.

Malfoy turns in his sleep, and I glimpse his chest under the covers. It's covered in marks there's no way I could have created.

"Oh, Draco..."

My eyes blink hard at the memory.

"Right, there... Please don't stop..."

That can't be good.

His eyes open slowly, and I see him take in the scenery around him. They widen.

That really can't be good.

"Bloody hell, Granger!" he yells suddenly. I jump. "What did you do to me?"

I stifle a laugh. "Care to take a guess?"

My confidence comes from nowhere.

He glares.

"Seriously, Malfoy, your guess is as good as mine."

He sinks back into the bed. In doing so, he glimpses his chest.

"Merlin, Granger!" he exclaims again. "Seriously, what did you do to me?"

I laugh, noting that he almost looks impressed.

Then I sigh, realizing I honestly have no clue what it is we did last night. I decide to finally check under the sheets, and I see very similar marks on my own body.

"I suppose I could ask you the same," I mutter.

"Come for me, Granger..."

I feel my face flush all over again.

"Oh, Malfoy, I'm coming..."

I blink again, as though I might think a simple blink will make the previous night's activities disappear.

Malfoy seems to be experiencing similar memories.

"Merlin, Granger, you must've been good," he mutters almost low enough that I can't hear. I don't know for sure if he wanted me to.

I blink again.

"Yeah, you too," I mutter grudgingly.

The moment of silence that follows is almost too tense to bear.

"It was the firewhiskey, right?" I finally mutter.

"Bloody right it was the firewhiskey," he responds.

The moment of of silence afterward makes me doubt us both.

He's on top of me before I register movement.

He's on top of me, and he's grinding against me, and I feel my body respond to him immediately.

I stifle the moan in my throat.

He hears it anyway.

"Come on," he growls. "Moan for me."

His words make me moan even as I try to refrain.

There's absolutely no rational reason for this.

I find I'm not sure if I care.

"Oh, Malfoy," I gasp as he kisses at my neck, biting the tender spot that I assume must be from the night before. I claw at his back, opening the scratches I must have created.

He hisses.

"You know you like it," I say, unaware I had the tone of voice I use with him.

He moans in appreciation, biting harder.

I tear his teeth from my neck, flipping him over and kissing him hard on the mouth in one motion.

"We do this like we might have practice," he mutters.

I laugh. "I think it's safe to assume we do."

I grind my hips into him, running my nails hard down his stomach. He breathes in deeply, arching his back at me.

"I want you," I say before I think.

It's not a question.

He flips me back over and then we're all mixed together in a twist of sheets and tongues and teeth and low, intense moans. We're grinding against each other and moaning each other's names and forgetting all about the sound wards on my bedroom.

"Come for me..." he hisses deep into my ear. "I want to feel it..."

I moan louder than I knew I could at his words.

"Come on, Granger..." he says. "Come hard, come with me..."

"Oh, Malfoy," I moan. "Oh, Malfoy, I want you so much..." My nails draw into his flesh again.

"Come with me, Granger..." he says again. "Come hard, come now."

It's his words and his motions and my sheer reaction to him and then I'm up in the air and I'm floating and spinning and moaning and then he's moaning and tensing every muscle I can feel on top of me and there's screaming and clawing and biting and then...

there's breathing. Deep, deep breathing.

And then he rolls over.

A few moments pass as we breathe.

"So... it's the firewhiskey?"

I'm not sure either of us know why I ask.

I'd appreciate it.