Once more…

Hermione stared down at a shabby piece of parchment. All it read was two words. There was no doubt where it had come from as it was accompanied by a familiar eagle owl, why it had arrived though, Hermione only had a vague idea. Looking around suspiciously, making sure she was alone, Hermione tapped her wand to the parchment. "Aparecium!" New words glowed in dark ink.

Hog's Head after dark.

It had been over a month since Hermione had last seen Malfoy. She'd come to pretend as though nothing but spite have ever existed between the two of them. Ron was none the wiser and persisted everyday with the notion in mind that one day he and Hermione could celebrate their love… But Hermione was still stuck in the past and reminiscing the feeling of how mischievous she felt with Malfoy inside of her.

Crumpling the parchment hurriedly, Hermione burnt it to ashes with the end of her wand. Without even a glance back at The Burrow, she ran beyond the grassy hill and with an overwhelming feeling of exhilaration, Apparated to Hogsmeade.

Hermione stepped into the familiar musty Hog's Head bar and was greeted with the strong smell of manure and alcohol. It bought back invigorating memories of Dumbledore's Army and the war against Umbridge. Hermione's expression dropped as she noticed the company in the bar were staring at her accusingly. The crowd consisted of a large hooded figure in the corner, and two filthy, unattractive women strewn in dreary dirty clothing who sniggered her way. If she didn't already have prior incentive for being there, she definitely would have left. Luckily Hermione caught the silver eye of a hooded stranger at the bar. Crossing the room past the flickering wall lamps and table candles, Hermione sat beside the stranger. She looked curiously to her side and confirmed with relief that it was Draco Malfoy.

As his black hood faltered, Hermione gasped. She had caught sight of Malfoy's pale face, and below his cheekbone was tinted dull grey and off purple. "What happened – "


"You haven't healed since last – "

"He did it again." Malfoy spoke fast and hushed, it seemed it was going to be a rather one-sided conversation until he asked, "Something to drink?"

It seemed awkward to speak to the side of Malfoy's head, especially when she couldn't see a hint of expression beyond his hood. "Oh yes," agreed Hermione. "A Butt –"

"Firewhiskey," Malfoy told the barman. As Hermione fiddled with the small glass before her, she eyed Malfoy apprehensively, nervous as to what was going to happen.

"You're like a drug," Malfoy said suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

"It was you that came back to me," he told her, as he turned to look into her large eyes. "Now I'm back. I'm begging a Mudblood." He barked an insane laugh. "I never thought I'd see the day." And he downed his Firewhiskey in one.

Hermione teased the surface of the Firewhiskey with her tongue, and then asked. "What do we do now?"

"Where can we go?" he whispered from the corner of his hood.

Hermione pondered for a moment, racking her brain before an ingenious idea came about. With a nervous churning in her stomach and a quiver in her voice she said, "Follow me." And with the barman staring curiously, and the unsightly witches still sniggering, they left the Hog's Head. As they stood beneath the velvet, dimly lit sky, Malfoy looked down to Hermione's offered hand. His finger twitched slightly in automatic reluctance, however he reminded himself that he'd already touched more than her hand and intertwined his fingers in hers.

It was a familiar feeling being at Grimmauld Place. The first object to bring back memories was the ghastly, ghost-like shape that mirrored Dumbledore.

"We did not kill you," said Hermione loud and clear. It seemed that Harry hadn't been here since they'd left the last time. Everything was intact, dusty and dank as ever, and the haunting form of Dumbledore was still there; Hermione was sure that would've been the first thing to be amended if Harry had visited.

"What is this place?" asked Malfoy, as he lowered his hood.

"Grimmauld Place," she told him. "It was Sirius Black's…now it belongs to Harry." At Malfoy's sudden outraged expression, she informed, "He's not here, don't worry."

After Malfoy had lingered looking at the tapestry of the Black family tree, he came to find Hermione in a grimy, dust-ridden bedroom; she was sitting on the end of the bed staring half-heartedly at the far wall. Suddenly a glass vase on the mantel before her burst into shards and scattered the floor. Clutching her chest, Hermione steadied her breathing and yelled, "Why would you do that!"

"Are we going to just sit here and stare?" he asked tartly. "Because I can do that in my own residence."

Hermione bowed her head into her hands and wept silently, however she was interrupted by Malfoy's cruel force. He pushed her hands away from her tear-streaked face and held her chin sternly so she could look him in the eyes. "Don't fuck me around, Granger." His venomous tone caused Hermione to remember everything she had once hated in Draco Malfoy. "Tell me right now if it should all change back; it wouldn't be so difficult to find you repulsive once again." His grip on her chin tightened a little and a tear leaked from the corner of her eye. "I've soiled my family name, and desecrated my body, but I'll do it once more… Just once more, Granger." The grip on Hermione's jaw now loosened; perhaps this was Malfoy's way in offering peace or asking for a favour. Whatever it was, it was relaxing. As he moved his hand to cradle Hermione's soft cheek, she pushed delicately towards his touch, and alluringly brushed his palm with her lips.

Standing tall, Hermione buried her hands in Malfoy's hair, pulling him closer as she kissed him impatiently. 'Once more,' she echoed in her head. She pushed him onto the filthy bed and straddled aggressively. 'The quicker, the better,' she convinced herself. But Malfoy was thinking differently. He took lead, pushing Hermione onto her back and viciously stripped her naked, examining her body as he had done previously.

"Heal me," he told her as he placed her wand in her hand.

Hermione felt a little taken aback. "Heal – your cheek?" Malfoy nodded. Apprehensively, Hermione connected her wand with his discoloured skin, she was grateful however, when the skin tastefully repatched itself and glowed bright and healthy.

Truthfully, Hermione half expected Malfoy to continue ravaging her savagely, but he touched her tenderly and she became trapped in the motions. She applied the same touch in return, beginning with his scarred tattoo, and ending with the fair hairs on his navel. Malfoy surrendered to an amazing experience; something so soft and genuine that he'd never encountered with anyone else. With Pansy it was always rough, malicious and often forced. In comparison this was ecstasy, even the envisions of the word 'Mudblood' across his mind couldn't spoil the feeling. 'This is the last time,' he told himself.

If Hermione didn't have to worry about Ron or the consequences any longer, then she would have been in pure heaven. Malfoy was so sensitive, so uncharacteristic. He began thrusting in successions, fast, faster and then slow. And then it hit Hermione densely as Malfoy stared deep into her immense brown eyes. She pulled from his grip, slightly overwhelmed, and sat upon his pelvis. "Why did you do that?" Malfoy looked enquiringly. "You know perfectly well," she told him. Yet he continued to be ignorant. "You used Legilimency on me."

Malfoy smirked maliciously and pulled Hermione down so their chests collided. He was searching her for emotion, needs and feelings, and it worked unbelievably well. Whilst he explored deep into her eyes, every motion, movement and gesture they created together resulted in the most lavish sensation. So deep, Malfoy delved until he couldn't anymore. He explored and stayed there, still staring into Hermione's eyes. He was giving her everything she wanted, and he loved it. He loved being in control.

It felt like hours had drifted past. With Hermione comfortably lain on Malfoy's pale chest, she fiddled with his wrist, teasing the raised scar. It fascinated her so much as it was something she'd never find on Ron. With the thought of Ron dancing through her mind, Hermione's skin tingled and she exhaled heavily. She pulled away from Malfoy, but he caught hold of her arm tersely.

Hermione turned her head strictly. "That was the last time," she reminded him. Her eyes were so wide; Malfoy didn't have to use Legilimency to realise that she looked frightened, her voice suggested otherwise, but she looked thoroughly afraid. Although he knew perfectly well that it was Ron that was causing Hermione to doubt her position, he still needed verification…but being the person he was, with such pride, he couldn't let the question roll from his tongue.

He watched Hermione dress, admiring the naked beauty for the last time. When done she stood at the foot of the bed, staring at the brooding blonde. As she was about to speak, he ruffled through his robes finally pulling out a crinkled, yellow-tinged small piece of paper. "Give this to Potter," he said.

Hermione turned the aged paper over and found it to be a very vintage photograph. A younger Lily Potter smiled up at Hermione and then looked admiringly to the youthful Severus Snape beside her. It was obvious that it was Harry's mother as they shared the same beautiful, piercing green eyes. "Where did you get this?"

"Father's old school trunk." Tying his robe, Malfoy stood before Hermione and looked down at her as genuinely as he could manage. She needed to know it wasn't a trick, nor a pointless gesture, it meant something, and Harry needed to know that. Harry needed to know that it was a peace offering. After all these years of turmoil and rivalry he hoped a photograph could mend that – and Malfoy knew that it would, because he knew how much the woman in the photo meant to Harry.

Looking up at Malfoy, tall, handsome and proud, Hermione reminisced for a moment. She recollected the Malfoy mansion, the Ministry Ball…the first time she laid her lips to his and the abuse that followed. And then she recalled the sensation the first time Malfoy explored inside of her, and she told herself, 'Enough… That's enough.'

Laying her hands gently on his cheekbones, she pulled Malfoy towards her, inching on the tips of her toes, and kissed him one last time. Pulling away, she didn't say a word, as she couldn't find anything appropriate, yet eloquent enough for this situation. She went to leave in silence until Malfoy spoke. "Don't come back, Granger," he told her.

Turning around Hermione smirked and mimicked gently, "Don't come back, Malfoy…"

Watching the brunette exit into the shadows, Malfoy smiled to himself. Such a feat he had just conquered. If someone had told him a year ago he would have the opportunity to sexually explore Hermione Granger, he would have cursed them dead there and then. This was evolution for the incompatible. A Pureblood, and a Mudblood had been enforced and it was just by luck, or perhaps fate. If everything hadn't unfolded the way it did then neither would be able to reminisce the touch of each other's lips, or recollect the warmth from their intermingled bodies… And in the eyes of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, that would've been a shame…

The End...

Thanks for reading/reviewing.