"Well this is just bloody brilliant-"

"Shhh!"

"Really just fucking smashing-"

"I'm going to smash you if you don't shut your bloody trap."

"Granger-"

"Malfoy, I swear on the name of everything holy if you don't be quiet…"

Hermione trailed threateningly and she could see him purse his lips in displeasure through the murky darkness. This was definitely not how this was supposed to go. It was supposed to be in and out. Quick. No problem. Piece of fucking cake. They were most assuredly not supposed to end up sitting on top of each other, hiding in a ventilation shaft in a muggle warehouse that was teaming with death eaters.

"Granger," Malfoy whispered. "You're kind of crushing me."

"What?" Hermione was trying to listen for footsteps.

"Move your ass!" he hissed at her, his hands grabbing her hips and shifting her body more firmly over his lap. Her hands clasped his shoulders to keep from toppling sideways into the wall.

"Shhh!"

"We're not going to be found, you stupid bint…" he growled, trailing and then, "Granger?"

"What?" she spat, not really paying attention.

"Are you…are you wearing perfume?"

Hermione's head whipped round, her hair sticking to his mouth, their noses colliding.

"OW!" they exclaimed in unison and then admonished each other with a "Shhh!"

"Perfume? You wear perfume on a covert mission?" he questioned, his voice mocking.

"No!" she replied defensively. "I was getting ready to go out when I was called."

"Go out! You? Since when do you go out?"

"I go out often," she answered airily.

"I never see you."

"Well I do my best to avoid you," she said wryly, turning her head again to listen.

"What's it called?" he asked, his breath tickling the side of her neck.

"What's what called?" she asked absently.

"Your perfume."

Hermione turned her head to him again, fully prepared to mock him thoroughly. What she wasn't prepared for was Draco's nose pressing against her throat and inhaling deeply. His chest expanded in the breath, pressing himself more firmly against her breasts, and he exhaled through his mouth in a warm gush against her collarbone. And then he did it again.

She smelled of citron and hyacinth with the warmth and spiciness of amber, of patchouli and jasmine. It was unassuming and subtle, evolving from one breath to the next, the metamorphosis surprising him. The fragrance was light, filled with vitality and energy, with a hint of sexiness that seemed so unlike her. Until he breathed in again.

"Malfoy stop…stop smelling me!" Hermione gasped, trying to push him away, which was impossible due to the lack of space.

"I thought you wanted men smelling you," he replied, his lips brushing her throat as he spoke, relishing the shudder that quaked through her.

"Malfoy we're on a mission for Merlin's sake," she warned, but her voice was weak. He smiled against her skin, taking a chance in placing a soft dry kiss against her pulse point.

"Come on, Granger." His hands were snaking up her back, his teeth scraping against her jugular. "Tell me what it's called."

"You wouldn't know it. It's a muggle perfume," she gasped and his lips left her neck abruptly.

"A muggle perfume."

"Yes. From a company called Chanel." He could barely make out her smile in the dim light.

He bared his teeth, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, tangling in her hair and then tugging lightly. She hissed, her head tilting back to alleviate the pull of his fingers, giving him full access to the column of her neck. He snuggled his nose just beneath her ear, inhaling deep, becoming intoxicated by her heady scent.

"What's it called, Granger?" he asked, pressing soft, chaste kisses on her earlobe and cheek.

Hermione pulled her head foreword, looking into his slate colored eyes, her lips brushing his as she responded.

"Chance."