A/N: Here is a Dramione fic for you! This story actually started out as a oneshot, however, you all seemed to like it, so we continued. A huge THANK YOU to all of our faithful readers! We love hearing from you, thanks for all of the reviews and PM's! You have overwhelmed us with your response to this fanfiction! :D Hope you'll enjoy and let us know what you think. ;D

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 1: Blood Bonding

12 Grimmauld Place, The Order's Headquarters

"You can't be serious?" Hermione gasped, her tone was that of pure horror.

"It's the only way." Kingsley's dark eyes confirmed regretfully.

Hermione fell back into her seat, stunned. The fight against You-Know-Who had taken a turn for the worst, and the remaining members of the Order, along with a few fleeting members of Voldemort's Armada, had taken refuge at Grimmauld Place. It was to be the last safe haven of the Wizarding World.

"Surely there must be another way." Mrs. Weasley persisted, turning to her husband for some other alternative, but Mr. Weasley merely shook his head.

"What I am suggesting is a form of…Dark Magic." Kingsley announced. "But sometimes you can only fight fire with fire."

"This is madness Kingsley! How could you even suggest…," Remus started, pointing his finger angrily at the calm individual in front of him, before shaking his head and throwing his hands in the air, clearly outraged at what the man was suggesting. Tonks, whose demeanor had stayed neutral on the topic, went to calm her fuming husband.

Hermione felt the youngest Weasley at her side, and she closed her eyes as the young girl placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"How does the ritual work?" Hermione asked, a bit uncertain on whether or not she really wanted to know.

"A Muggle born has always been the key factor in this ceremony." Kingsley explained. "A pureblood is also needed. It's an old form of wandless Magic, known as Blood-Bonding."

"And what makes it Dark Magic?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Blood must be spilt between the two parties involved, it is required that the blood be shed during the proceedings of intercourse; in order for a bond to be created." Kingsley answered.

Hermione's narrowed eyes shot up at him, but he shook his head and explained further.

"No one must die, but blood must be shared. Anytime blood is involved in a ritual it's considered an offering. That's what makes it Dark Magic. If abused, a life essence could be drained, and someone could die during the ritual, but if it's done properly, a greater power is gained. This opportunity could only aim to help us in our fight against Voldemort." Kingsley explained, staring each of them over, his eager eyes willing them to understand.

Hermione nodded, in acceptance of his words. If there was even the slightest chance that this would help Harry destroy Voldemort, then she couldn't say no.

"Who will it be then?" Hermione asked shakily, trying to force calm.

"Draco Malfoy." Kinglsey stated. There was no hesitation in his response.

Hermione's eyes darted to the blond headed figure seated in the corner of the room. His mother and father sat next to him, each of their faces had turned to stone at Mr. Shacklebolt's words.

"And how was this decided?" Mrs. Weasley piped, in Hermione's defense.

"You have a room full of Purebloods," Narcissa exclaimed disdainfully. "Why does it have to be my son?"

"Their wands attract each other's Magic." said Kingsley. "That part is essential. That is why it must be him."

Narcissa's face contorted with anger and disgust, but she eventually let it go. She had just as much to lose as all the rest of them, and knew that if this was the only way to bring them more power, then she couldn't argue with it.

Hermione felt her chest cave in. Draco hadn't said anything since his name was announced. He merely glanced at her, his expression unreadable, before slowly turning his attention to the dusty floor.

The Malfoy family had abandoned Voldemort, and was kept in hiding, as a last request of Dumbledore before he died. No one really trusted them, but the fact that they weren't in line with the Dark Lord made them quick allies. It was the only reason they were here.

"I'll give the two of you some time." Kingsley nodded toward them. "But you'll have to hurry, because we don't have much of it to spare."

As soon as Kingsley left the room, realization struck Hermione, and the burden of what was expected of her weighed heavily on her soul.

Mrs. Weasley, who had been stifling her cries for the majority of Kingsley's speech, ran over to embrace her.

"Oh, my poor dear," Mrs. Weasley cried, pulling Hermione close, rocking her against her bosom. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry Hermione dear."

Hermione felt a hole in her chest from where her heart used to be. She should be crying too. After all, she was still a virgin, and had wanted to wait for sex until marriage. But that dream was gone. No, instead her dignity was being forfeited on behalf of some blood ritual. Not to mention, with a person who absolutely despised her. 'How comforting,' she thought bitterly, 'how quaint?'

Hermione watched as the stunned looking Malfoy's rose from their seats. Their faces, especially those of Narcissa and Lucius, were of utter horror and grief stricken turmoil. The Malfoy name was about to be forever tainted. Draco on the other hand looked beside himself. He probably felt as she did, and was incapable of responding properly just yet.

When the three Malfoy's passed her on the way out, it was Draco's mother who stopped to pay her respects.

"You had better clean yourself up, girl." Narcissa hissed bitterly, before hastily following her family out the door.

Hermione's insides burned at Narcissa's harsh words, but she honestly didn't expect anything less from the vial woman.

When Hermione told Harry and Ron what had happened at the meeting, their reactions were precisely as she had anticipated. Harry was angry and appalled; but Ron, Ron was something else.

"You can't let him touch you, Hermione." Ron said angrily.

"I don't have a choice." Hermione uttered. "It's the only way to strengthen our Magic."

Ron shook his head and continued to pace back and forth in front of her. Harry had left them to talk, so they were completely alone, in the room in which she shared with Ginny.

"This is insane. How could you agree to something like this?" Ron continued, fuming. "I thought your first time would have been with me. Never once did I imagine that pig-headed-ferret ever laying a single finger on you."

Hermione felt her heart momentarily mend at his words. "Did you really think my first time was going to be with you?" Hermione's voice broke.

"Of course," Ron stated factually, before trailing off incoherently. "I mean… not now… but when we got married of course."

Hermione's eyes welled up with tears. She and Ron weren't dating, although she had hoped at some point they would; but, with the war going on, it was just too much to think about.

Hermione stood up and walked over to the pacing boy in the center of the room. Ron stopped and stared after her, his blue eyes filled with hurt.

"My first time doesn't have to be with him." Hermione's shaky voice suggested.

"Well we can't get married right now." Ron stated dumbly. "No one here's qualified for something like that."

Hermione laughed at his futile attempt to protect her honor.

"Ron." Hermione smiled pointedly. "I want you to be my first."

Ron blushed, a deep shade of violet streaking his already rosy cheeks. "Oh."

Hermione leaned in to kiss him, accidentally bumping noses in the process, which caused a smile to grow increasingly wider across her anxious lips.

His kisses were eager and sloppy, but she was just as inexperienced as he was, and that certainly didn't help the matter. They fumbled with their clothing, and Hermione, embarrassed, asked that they keep the lights off. Ron agreed and continued to grope his way up and down her body. His hands hurt at times, he often squeezed too hard in certain sensitive areas; and, she had to remind him more than once to be careful. When it came time for Ron to enter her, he missed her center more than once, but somehow still managed to gain momentary satisfaction from rubbing against her folds.

"Ron, slow down." Hermione warned him, feeling his sweaty body start to tense.

"I've almost got it." Ron groaned. When Ron managed to insert the head of his arousal inside of her, he lost all control, and she immediately felt a warm liquid spurt down onto her legs.

Hermione sighed as Ron's sweaty body crashed down on top of her.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he breathed against her ear. "I couldn't help it."

"It's okay…" she whispered, slightly disappointed.

"Next time it will be better, I promise." Ron assured her through short ragged breaths.

Hermione rolled her eyes. The whole purpose of this evening was for her to have a good experience before she handed herself over to Malfoy; and all the git on top of her could think about was a next time.

"You should probably get going." said Hermione, pushing him off of her with a gentle hand. "Ginny should be getting back any minute now."

"Right." said Ron, exhausted, gathering up his scattered clothes and heading for the door. "I'll see you tomorrow." He smiled at her before exiting the room. The stupid prat didn't even kiss her goodbye.

The next morning Hermione prepared herself for the inevitable. She was more nervous than she had been yesterday, but that was probably because it was getting closer to time. While she was washing up, she remembered the harsh words of Draco's mother, 'Make sure you're clean', the old wench had told her. Hermione felt herself scrubbing harder at her sensitive flesh, as she recalled the words. How much cleaner could she possibly get.

The day went by entirely too fast, but consequently slowed down when she approached the door to the room Kinglsey had reserved for her and Draco. Draco wasn't there yet. She wondered if he had backed out, or if his parents had put their foot down, and refused to allow their son to mingle with a Muggle-born. A filthy Mudblood, in their eyes.

Hermione paced around the room, too afraid to sit; but, then again she was entirely too unstable to stand. She couldn't help but glance around the room and wonder how the night was going to play out. Was he going to try and toss her onto the bed and rush her body to get it over with, or would he want them on the couch instead, maybe in front of the fire place. The possibilities were endless in her mind, and whilst she prayed the night would end soon, she was too afraid to think of it even starting.

The door to the room creaked open, her nerves causing her to involuntarily jump at the sound. It was Draco. He was dressed in his normal black attire, while his blonde hair fell perfectly across his pale face in feathered strands.

He caught her eyes as soon as he entered, and she immediately looked away, her face flushed. The tall slender blonde went straight to the fireplace, lighting it with the tip of his wand.

'What is he trying to do,' Hermione thought suddenly, 'set the mood?' Hermione licked her dry lips and opened her mouth to say something, but quickly closed it again. She watched as he stared into the fire place, his thoughts consumed by the flickering flame in front of him.

Hermione struggled with her words a bit longer. Malfoy must have sensed this, because he turned to face her, which put a quick stop to her over thinking brain.

She cowered under his piercing blue gaze. He appeared calmer than she expected, despite the turmoil playing across his face. The blonde boy's hand went to his pocket, and she watched as he pulled out a small silver flask. He took a quick swig of it before offering it over to her.

Hermione stared after his outstretched hand, and surprised even herself, by throwing caution to the wind and accepting the foreign substance he was offering. At the slightest touch, Draco's cool silky fingers burned the skin of her hand as he placed the silver flask in her trembling palm. She brought it to her nose. It was Fire Whisky. The strong scent burned her nostrils and she immediately pulled it away, taking a fresh breath.

"I'm gonna need a minute." Draco murmured. He turned away from her, disappearing into the restroom, it occurred to Hermione that he was just as nervous as she was. The thought of having to touch her must have absolutely revolted him.

Hermione's hands began to shake, causing the contents of the flask to splash out a bit. She tried steadying herself, but when that failed she took a small swig from the canteen in her hand. The cold liquid froze, and then set a fire to her throat. It burned like acid as she shook her head violently and squeezed her eyes shut. 'God, it burns.' was all she could think at the moment.

Hermione didn't notice when Draco had returned, but when she did, she tried offering him back his flask. The blonde haired Slytherin declined. "It's yours if you need it for tonight." he replied awkwardly.

Hermione's hand dropped to her side. Her fingers tightened around the silver flask. She considered his offer for a moment, wondering whether or not there was enough whiskey left in it to get her through the night.

"Are you ready?" Draco asked her. His deep cold voice sounded odd and mistakenly calm for the torturous moment. Whatever the difference, it was a way too patient noise to be passing from his normally taunting lips. Hermione nodded her head, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"In order for this to work," Draco stated timidly. "I'm going to need to touch you." Hermione nodded her head again, this time spilling a few tears in the process.

"Can I touch you?" Draco asked, a bit uncertain. His manners surprised even her, but it made saying yes that much easier.

Draco took a small step toward her, and she immediately took a step back; shutting her eyes tightly.

"Granger," Draco growled in warning.

"I'm sorry..." she sputtered, bumping into the bed behind her. "I didn't mean to."

Draco tried approaching her again. This time she kept still, her heavy breathing uneven.

"For just tonight," Draco's deep voice whispered in her ear as he took the flask from her shaking hand. "We're going to pretend like we don't hate each other."

Hermione's tears fell faster and she held her breath, afraid of what was to happen next.

She could feel the heat his body radiated, even though their bodies weren't touching.

"Hermione..." When Hermione heard her name escape from the blonde boy's lips, a bit hesitant and broken, her eyes snapped open. She had never once heard him call her by her first name before.

"Let's play pretend," He breathed hotly against the side of her neck. "You don't hate me. In fact, somewhere in the back of your mind you've secretly lusted after me all these years. At school I taunted you, but only because I was secretly attracted to you...," Even though she knew Draco was making all this up, her heart skipped a beat at his fake confession. "...Though I could never find the guts to tell you,..." Draco's voice fell lower, until she swore his lips grazed her neck. "...Because of my pure blood...," Draco continued. "And your filthy...," but before Draco could finish Hermione pushed hard against the close proximity of the taller boy's chest. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't make him budge. "Shhh..." He cooed against her ear, pressing his lean body firmly into hers, forcing her still.

"Do you honestly think," Hermione stared up at him with narrowed eyes. "That pointing out the inferiority of my birth is going to help this along any easier." Draco stared down at her, amused and unabashed.

"We're pretending, Granger," Draco reminded playfully against the swell of her lips. "Don't get yourself all worked up over nothing. We both know how I really feel about you, I'm just trying to make this believable."

Hermione's blood boiled, but knew that now wasn't the time to start picking fights. Draco smiled as she continued to stare up at him defiantly.

Draco's hands went to Hermione's neck and he gently caressed her throat with his thumbs. "I've always wondered, despite myself, how soft your skin would feel against my fingertips." Hermione swallowed hard, she feared his caress would turn violent. "So delicate," He whispered against her temple.

Hermione felt him looking down at her again, and her cheeks began to burn.

"Tell me you've never thought about it." Draco's husky voice taunted.

"Thought about what?" Hermione swallowed painfully, her throat dry.

"About what it would be like if…you and I…were to ever…" Hermione felt Draco's hands caress their way down her sides, and she involuntarily shivered.

"I…I don't know what you mean?" Hermione's brain waves were starting to go fuzzy, she wondered if this was still just a part of his game.

Draco's face hovered over hers, his mouth a mere breath away from her taunt lips.

"I want to taste you, Granger." Hermione flushed at his provocative use of words. What kind of game was this anyway?

"Malfoy…?" Hermione questioned him timidly, her body caving into his kneading caress.

"I've never been able to stomach the thought of that Weasel touching you." Draco hissed against her lips. "I know you went to him last night." Hermione tried snapping out of his piercing blue gaze, but she couldn't manage to tear herself away.

"Did he do it all wrong?" Draco asked sympathetically. "Did he rush you? I bet his clumsy hands felt like a disturbing violation." Draco's calloused words were hypnotizing her. How did he know all of this?

"I want to make it better." Draco purred against her mouth, resting his ample lips against hers. Although he didn't kiss her, Hermione's brown eyes fluttered closed.

"All this time," she could feel his soft lips moving against hers as he spoke. "At the center of every insult, I've only ever wanted to make you mine."

Hermione would wonder later whether it was the Fire Whiskey or Draco's seductive fluke-confessions that drove her to do it, but as soon as Draco stopped talking, Hermione wound her hands in the scruff of his black robes and forced her tongue into his tactful mouth. She kissed him with such wild abandon that she didn't care who he was or why they were both there. She wanted him despite everything else that was forcing them together.

Draco allowed her tongue to invade his mouth, and she was pleasantly surprised at how cold and sweet he felt, and tasted. The blonde haired boy kissed her back, matching her passion with the delicate contours of his smooth flavored tongue.

The rough smack of their lips molded into each others' like soft clay, as their clever tongues battled. Hermione's hands were still clinging onto the fabric of his robe when Draco went to lift her from the floor, placing her gently on the mattress behind her. His strong hands parted her willing thighs, allowing his scored hips entrance. Hermione arched her back until their pelvises touched, moaning lightly as Draco's hands went to massage the lingering tension from her lower back and hips. The pleasure he sent flowing through her body caused her to bury her face in his shirt. She could feel the sculpted contours of his muscled chest beneath the thin fabric. Peeking up at him, she noticed the satisfaction it brought to his eyes by pleasing her in this way; whether it was a mock attempt for her benefit or not, she didn't really know, nor did she care, after all, pleasure was pleasure. Hermione's hands went to Draco's firm chest, where her impatient fingers fumbled with his dark robes. Draco pulled her closer to him, his encircled arms tight around her waist, as Hermione went to undo the buttons of his shirt. She worked as fast as her nimble fingers could mange.

Without breaking their kiss, Hermione slid the dark robe from off the Slytherin Prince's body, revealing the hard lean abs underneath.

Hermione accidentally bit Draco's bottom lip, and she momentarily hesitated before continuing. Draco, however, growled into her wet mouth. It was animalistic, and the seductive sound reverberated in her lungs. He was otherwise unfazed by the nibble, and urged her lips to continue with his own.

Hermione's stomach fluttered with guilty pleasure. She wanted to feel every hard inch of his body against hers.

"I want you on top of me." She hadn't meant for it to sound like an order, but was delighted when he obeyed.

Draco pushed her down onto the mattress. Pinning her delicate wrist about her head with his strong hands, as he carried out a series of kisses and tiny love bites of his own. He started at her lips, before trailing down her jaw and then to her neck, pausing momentarily at the hollow of her throat, biting down gently on the sensitive flesh, before sucking on it, causing her blood to boil. His cold steel tongue intensified every swift motion, and every move his hands and body made sent her farther over the edge. Slowly Draco continued down the path to her chest, grazing the cleavage of her breasts with his hot mouth. She writhed and wiggled under his heated form, and moaned when his teeth replaced his soft lips. She couldn't control the need for much longer. Still with his head at her chest, Draco chuckled smoothly, apparently amused with himself. He slowly let loose her wrists, sliding his hands down the sides of her long slender frame, then to her surprise, he swiftly scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to the center of the bed.

The rest of their clothes disappeared rather fast, under the steady control of his hands. Draco's fingers went to her warm center, causing her small heaving chest to rise and fall rapidly, and Hermione was too consumed by him to even suggest turning off the lights.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." Draco whispered. It sounded like a promise. Hermione nodded her head, waiting for him to continue.

As soon as Draco's fingers plunged inside of her, she gasped, gripping the satin sheets in her warm hands.

"Shhh, it's okay." His deep voice cooed, kissing her flushed cheek.

Hermione licked her lips as his skillful fingers worked in and out of her.

When Draco's fingers eventually slid out for the last time, she saw that they were slick with her heat. She watched as he used the same hand that had been inside of her, to lubricate himself. Her body shivered with passionate delight.

Draco lowered himself onto her lithe frame, careful not to apply too much weight.

"I can lie if you want?" Draco teased huskily. His voice sounded far away.

Hermione stared up at him with heavy lidded eyes.

"If you think it will ease the pain." He groaned as he positioned his head at her slick entrance.

Hermione moaned in response.

"I love you." He said against her bruised lips as he drove his shaft deep inside of her. Hermione shut her eyes tight. She saw stars in the darkness. What did he just say?

Draco continued to push into her until the walls of her flower collapsed.

"I love you." He repeated against her lips once more, slowly changing his rhythm.

Hermione felt her body growing warmer with each thrust of his hips.

"Say my name." Draco hissed into her ear.

"Malfoy…" Hermione breathed.

"That's not my name." He corrected her.

Hermione looked up to face him. Draco was staring down at her with a hungry look in his eyes.

"Draco." she whispered sensually.

As soon as his name left her lips, Draco's lips crashed down upon hers, muffling a moan that escaped his mouth. She felt his motions quicken. Her slick walls tightened around him, and she gripped his shoulders as she spread her legs wider for him.

She was losing more of herself with each deep stroke. When he lifted his pelvis to change the angle of his thrust, she felt his shaft teasing the swell of her nub, and she lost it.

Hermione's tiny body convulsed. She felt as if she was being thrown from a high cliff, but she was slowly being brought down on a cloud of ecstasy.

"Hermione," Draco moaned, his face contorted up in desire. She felt his iron shaft twitch inside of her as a warm liquid jetted into the depths of her core.

After a few moments of intoxicated pleasure, Draco eventually relaxed onto her panting body, his breathing labored.

"I have a confession." Draco stated unevenly, whispering in her ear. "I wasn't being entirely truthful."

Hermione's heart sunk, he didn't have to say it. "I know." She replied sourly. At his sudden movement she thought this was it, he was pulling away from her, ending their connection, ending his charade; but, was surprised to find that he was only sliding a bit further down her frame. He planted one lingering kiss on her chest precisely above where her heart resided, from there he sprinkled a few quick kisses on her breasts before resting his head in their valley.

"No," Draco shook his head against the swell of her breast. "I mean the part I was supposed to be lying about."

Hermione looked down at him, her warm brown eyes confused.

"I wasn't pretending." His blue eyes softened for the first time.

Hermione didn't know whether to be scared or angry, so instead she laughed.

"Malfoy?" Hermione remembered suddenly, as her hand absent mindedly caressing his soft blonde locks.

"Hmmm." He sighed, his voice muffled.

"I think we forgot something…"

"What's that?" Draco asked sleepily, relaxing back onto her breast.

"Didn't Kingsley say something about blood needing to be spilt, and offered?"

"Yeah," Draco yawned. "He might have mentioned that to me before I came in here."

"And?" She questioned.

"Looks like we'll have to try again!" Draco shrugged; his heavy lidded eyes penetrating hers.

With the corners of his lips curling up into a wicked smirk as he kept his steel blue orbs in a steady gaze with hers, she gasped in semi-realization. He lightly pulled himself up next to her, encircling his arms around her curved frame, cradling her in a warm embrace, their legs left intertwined. Draco laid his head a meager breath away from hers, gently kissing her on the lips once more.

"Goodnight, Hermione Granger." He yawned, exhausted, as he tightened his grip on her and let sleep overtake his tired body.

Her mind still reeling with the realization of what had just happened, left her feeling dazed and confused, she wondered why he was still playing these mind games with her. Why was he still laying next to her? Why had he fallen asleep with her still in his arms?

In a state of pure shock and utter weariness, she replied softly, "Goodnight, Draco Malfoy." for, she too was over encumbered by sleep.