A/N - Written for Strawberry Kait at the 2011 Dramione Duet on LJ. I decided to use 2 out of the 3 prompts she gave me. Keep in mind that this is a gift, so it was written keeping Kait's likes and dislikes in mind.

Warning: M rating for a reason. And fluff!

Thanks to Heart of Spells, an awesome beta :D

One or More


Draco Malfoy stared gloomily across the Ministry offices; past the working wizards, the chatting witches, until his glance fell on the one bushy haired witch he couldn't quite get out of his mind. He narrowed his eyes at her, his gaze following her every movement: the twitch of her head, the slight flexing of her fingers and the bounce of her curls when she moved. She was talking animatedly to a Gryffindor that Draco had never cared for. An Irishman with sandy brown hair and a friendly disposition. The way he touched her arm made Draco want to reach for his wand and aim a nifty little curse towards the Irishman. Although, if he had to be truthful to himself, he would have to admit that he was less annoyed with Potter's lackey, and more annoyed with the witch in question.

Draco had entered the Ministry that day with the highest of expectations. He expected a full pot of coffee made by his personal assistant, the recent documentation he needed to sign drawn up, and a pretty little blush from Hermione -bleeding- Granger the moment her eyes fell on him.

He found himself utterly disappointed at the lack of such a reaction, and had been following her every movement since.

Draco was not a stranger when it came to one night stands. He hadn't had a serious girlfriend for years and rather preferred the 'shag now and talk never' policy that he had been practising. To acquire a woman was easy enough. Many considered him a 'catch' because of his money, status and attractive looks. Occasionally, a woman would even be fascinated by the fading Dark Mark on his forearm, the idea of him having once being the Dark Lord's servant was enough to get their knickers to slip off easily enough. He rather liked the fact that he hardly had to work for it.

But last night had been different.

Even as a Malfoy, who aged well and was guaranteed to be considered attractive until the very end, Draco found himself considerably depressed at the thought of his thirty-first birthday. He had refused to see anyone, opting to have a small meal with only his parents before retiring with a few bottles of Ogden's finest and a crystal goblet. He had spent a few hours before the fireplace drinking, thinking and drinking some more. He had, in all honesty, had the life he wanted. At thirty-one, he had a good enough job, thousands of gold to throw around and enough women who willingly slipped into his bed. But the one thing he lacked, and the one thing he craved, he still hadn't acquired: respect.

Even after a decade, many still saw him as his father's son; the Death Eater who failed to choose a side and stick to it. The image he had been painstakingly trying to create for himself was accepted on the outside, but blatantly ignored behind closed doors. It was the little things that got to him: offhand remarks or jokes at a dinner, the sudden looks people gave him when the names 'Albus Dumbledore' or 'Voldemort' were ever mentioned, and even the slights he had received from the mothers of eligible women.

He decided that his upcoming birthday needed to be properly dealt with. So, he drank, he brooded, and contemplated what an absolute failure he was. And nothing was more foreign to a Malfoy than the feeling of failure.

It was near midnight when Draco decided in his infinite wisdom that the Firewhisky was going down his throat too smoothly and he needed something less fine; which is how he found himself at a Muggle pub which could have easily put the Hog's Head to shame with its charm and ambiance. Ever since the Second Wizarding War, Draco had frequented Muggle establishments to escape the whispers and curious looks that wizards and witches seemed to cultivate around him. He would have thought that after over a decade, his role in the war would have lost its novelty; but considering that wherever Potter walked, he was treated like the same bloody hero with expressions of awe and excitement, it wasn't a far stretch to believe that he was still regarded with optimum caution.

It was while he was stumbling outside that said Muggle pub, his head throbbing and the world around him considerably hazy that he bumped into one Hermione Granger. Literally. And what happened after was where he needed his memories the most, but where the alcohol induced stupor had failed him. But that didn't mean he didn't remember snippets of the night before.

He remembered tripping, laughter, and a gentle hand against his chest. He remembered silky curls, the sweetest smelling skin, and the most lovely, deepest brown eyes he had ever seen. He remembered walking; a lot of walking. Stumbling, leaning and slurred conversation. Then he was in a room, with a bed. He remembered being led towards the mattress, grabbing a hand and pulling her down with him. His memories got considerably worse after that. It was all a blur to him; skin on skin, breathy whispers, tiny sighs and soft skin. An arching back with tangled limbs, fingers trailing down his arms and breasts moving against his chest. It was the most spine tingling, toe curling experience of his life, sweetened only by the knowledge of exactly who was moving under him. It was maddening that he couldn't remember any more; even more maddening that she didn't seem to be affected by what had happened.

Draco continued to watch her. There was an ease about her, almost as if she hadn't been shagged within an inch of her life the night before. And she had been, if the state of the bedroom where he had woken was of any indication. He had groggily blinked open his eyes to stare around in confusion, his gaze falling on his naked body twisted in sheets before landing on a familiar wall hanging that was placed in every bedroom of the Three Broomsticks. His mind was assaulted by memories, many hazy recollections, but most that made his skin tingle. He remembered a tiny whimper escape the woman when he had tasted her skin, his lips following a clumsy trail from her throat, down her chest, over her stomach, her hip before he reached the spot between her thighs. He remembered her arching back and the soft cry that made him twitch in anticipation. He also remembered the absolutely primal need that had taken over him as he claimed her, their bodies moving against each other as teeth and lips sought out skin to claim. She had been magnificent. This was utterly confusing since all she had ever spouted out at him were words of detached boredom.

Draco hadn't trusted his memories, believing them to be a trick of the mind. After performing a cleaning spell and taking a potion to sober himself up, he'd started hunting around the bedroom in search of anything that could lead him to the woman who, he was convinced, might have been a mirage. When he found nothing to ease his curiosity, he had gone downstairs, finding himself thankful that not many patrons graced the Three Broomsticks in the morning. Having a Malfoy walk out of such an establishment would not do well for the image he had cultivated for himself.

It was when he was passing Madam Rosmerta that he had stopped, a thought suddenly occurring to him. Questioning the woman, he realized that the person who had booked the room and paid for it before she had left under the cover of night had been, in fact, Hermione Granger. Draco's mouth had dried at the very thought. Only his drunken-self could have ever placed him in such a predicament.

And here she was, acting as if what had happened the night before meant nothing. There was only so much a person could take.


She looked towards him, her eyes the same shade of brown from the night before, and not without the same bored curiosity she always looked at him with. Her lack of reaction, especially one of nervousness, was bloody confusing. "What is it, Malfoy?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, scrutinising her appearance for anything that might show that she was as affected by his presence as he was affected by hers. The very thought of her at arm's length caused excitement to race up his spine, which meant it would be highly unfair if she didn't feel the same. And yet, she looked just as unaffected as she appeared to be before last night.

She looked at him expectantly. "Did you come over here to ask me something?"

Draco opened his mouth to speak, even though he couldn't decide exactly what to say. He wanted to call her on her deceit, but another, more cautious part of him wondered if he was mistaken; whether Madam Rosmerta had been mistaken. Then, he would be the fool, when he'd rather she be the future long standing joke of the Ministry office. At the end, he decided to be cautious, yet to the point.

"We need to discuss something. Come to my office around 3.30."

Granger pursed her lips in agitation. "Would it hurt you to use a few pleasantries?"

Malfoy simply turned to his side, where he knew his assistant was; she was always close no matter where he was. "Did I sign that document Ms Granger wanted me to approve?"

The woman who had been an impulse hire, almost dropped her set of files in surprise before she caught them all and straightened her glasses clumsily. "No, Mr Malfoy. You didn't."

Smirking, he turned towards Granger. "I'll see you at 3.30 so you can pick up that document of yours."

Granger's expression darkened. "I might have to send someone else."

His smirk widened. "Someone else wouldn't get it from me."

Turning on his heel, he started moving towards his office, leaving a fuming Granger behind. And that thought made him smile.

Draco spent a good part of his day distributing his time between reading documents and pacing his office in deep thought. He didn't understand how she could not be blushing furiously when he was near, or even shifting from one foot to the other nervously. Instead, she was calm, cool, collected, and annoying to boot. Why couldn't she be flustered? Why couldn't she grab onto him and snog him senseless? He had never taken a woman home who hadn't wanted a second or a third time, even if he did stop them coming over after the first. He had never been in this position before and it made him want to hex something in frustration; preferably a Weasley.

By the time Granger entered his office, he had dusted his already immaculate robes, re-arranged his desk, and successfully kept himself busy.

"I hope you have that document for me."

Looking up, he smirked at her. "Good afternoon to you too, Granger."

His companion simply smiled humourlessly at him. "The file."

"Yes, of course," he stated courteously before he grabbed it from the top of his desk and stood up, walking around the ebony table so he was standing before her. "Here you go." With a friendly smile, he held it out towards her.

As expected, Granger's eyes widened slightly before they narrowed in suspicion. "Thank you…?" she mumbled in hesitation before she took the file from him quickly, almost as if she expected him to bite off her fingers if she didn't. When he didn't drop the smile, she opened the file and scanned its contents, probably to figure out exactly why he was acting so odd.

"Where were you last night?"

He watched her carefully; from the slight tilt of her lips to the colour of her eyes. He expected her to stiffen, speak quickly, change the subject, or maybe even chuckle nervously. Instead, she looked up at him in utter confusion.


Draco's smile dropped. Surely she couldn't be such a good actress. He had the element of surprise on his side; she did not. Shrugging lightly he perched himself on the edge of his desk to look casual about his line of questioning. "I was just curious."

Her gaze narrowed. "You're never just curious."

He couldn't help but eye her suspiciously. "And you're not answering my question."

With a small smile, she closed the file with a soft snap. "Thank you again." Before he could say anything else, she was out his office and closing the door after her. Draco frowned. Naturally, he would have to re-think his strategy.

It was during lunch that Draco saw Granger once again, and he couldn't help but feel that her behaviour was very peculiar. Usually, she was behind her desk, working on a mountain of paperwork with periodic breaks to take a bite out of her sandwich; but for the first time, she was in the Ministry cafeteria and seated with another Muggle loving wizard who Draco knew was an avid Gryffindor. If Draco hadn't seen her blush, he would have left them to their own devices. But as fate would have it, he did see a pretty pink rouge colour her cheeks and before long, he was standing beside them while two sets of eyes looked up at him curiously.

The annoyance was the first to speak. "Can we help you...?"

Draco ignored him and turned his attention to Granger. "I'd like to talk to you after lunch."

"Um...But, I..." She was too busy sputtering that she didn't notice when her hand knocked over her goblet, spilling water all over the table. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

The man smiled before he pulled out his wand and waved a quick cleaning charm, setting everything back to its dry self as Granger looked back up at him.

"I'm not usually this much of a klutz," she said shyly as she pushed a lock of her bushy hair behind her ear and looked up at him nervously. "I swear I'm not. It's just so difficult to coordinate sometimes." She looked at the man sitting opposite her at the end of the sentence and the two of them shared a small laugh. She looked back up at Draco. "You were saying?"

Draco simply stared at her, wondering where the usually confident Hermione Granger had gone. "I wanted to meet with you. After lunch," he found himself saying slowly, almost cautiously.

Granger beamed at him. "Of course. I'll come to your office right after." She turned towards the man and grabbed his arm affectionately. "After all, Dean and I have certain things to discuss first."

Draco's mouth parted to reply, before he closed it shut in surprise. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. He felt like an intruder; an intruder who was seeing a woman who he thought he knew in a new light. And he didn't care what other people might say, he found the other side of her bloody scary.

He cleared his throat. "Yes. Well..." He gave them a curt nod. "Continue." Without waiting for a response, he left quickly, wondering if there was something in the water today.

After Draco had successfully paced a circle in his new, plush rug, Blaise entered his office unexpectedly.

"You know, if you want something, you could always come and get it yourself." His friend dropped the folder he had in his hand onto the desk and looked at Draco curiously. "Your father coming for a visit?"

Draco paused in his pacing to face Blaise, his mind finally coming to grips with a thought he never thought was possible. "I think..." he began in a dazed tone, "Granger's gone mad."

Blaise had the sense to simply sit on the nearest chair available to him and look at Draco expectantly. "I thought you always thought that."

"Of course not," Draco snapped. "You know I think she's intelligent enough even if she's not one of us." He resumed pacing, trying to focus his thoughts. "She must be overworked. Yes, that's it. Merlin knows that the witch takes over too many responsibilities."

Blaise snorted. "I don't think she sleeps. There's no way she could get so much work done if she spends six hours a day dead to the world."

Draco nodded, his pace quickening. "It settles it, then. She's gone mad."

Blaise let out a low chuckle. "Why in Merlin's name would you think she's gone mad-?"

Just then, the office door burst open as the subject of their discussion strode in, causing Draco to stop in his tracks. "What is it, Malfoy? I have things to do. If you want to talk, out with it." She then crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

The two men shared a look.

Blaise decided to charm her with a small nod and a wide grin. "It's good to see you, Hermione."

Granger simply raised a mocking eyebrow before she turned back to glare at Draco. "If this is it, I have a place to go to right now."

"Granger, if-"

"Ooh. That was too slow." She gave him a mocking salute. "Maybe next time you'll realise that time is money. Zabini," she said curtly before she stormed out of his office and banged the door shut after her.

Draco looked at his friend pointedly who seemed unable to find the right words to say.

After a moment of speechlessness, Blaise said softly, "Looks like the pressure had finally got to her and she-"

"Has gone barking mad?"

"Maybe you should go see Potter."

Draco winced. "As much as I despise that idea, I might not have a choice."

"Especially if you want to go through the launch successfully."

Draco felt a mild headache creep up the side of his temple. "The reason I wanted Granger to work with me was so she would take over everything and I would have nothing extra to do."

"And how is that working for you?"

Glaring at his best friend, Draco raised two fingers to rub his forehead in an effort to reduce the continuous throbbing. "She fought me every step of the way with this project and the moment I get her to accept our partnership, she suffers a breakdown."

Blaise smirked. "Or maybe what she needs is a good shag to get her sanity back."

"Won't work," Draco mumbled distractedly.

"Oh? How would you know?"

"Because, I already shagged her."

The next day was even more awful, even if Draco hadn't thought that could be possible. The day started with a meeting where she was every bit the Hermione Granger that he remembered from their Hogwarts years; from her organised notes, to her impassioned speech, to her logically thought through answers. The only thing was, every time he tried to catch her gaze, she would look away. She didn't sit near him, she didn't acknowledge him nor did she thank his input on the project which only served to anger him and cause him to nearly snap the quill he had in his hand in half.

After getting side-tracked by a few investors, he tracked her down, only to be thwarted by her mood. When he mentioned that she should have thanked him, she apologised quickly and sweetly; when he mentioned that she should let him speak next time, she readily agreed. Even when he said that she needed to wear shorter robes just to get a rise out of her she blushed and said, "For the next meeting." Needless to say, she left Draco standing in the middle of the hallway completely confused. If he had liked Potter at all, he would have gone straight to him to complain. But as work had need of his expertise for the time being, he decided to go through tedious amounts of documents to take his mind over the ever changing personality of the woman he had unwittingly shagged. Whether or not she happened to be the most interesting shag he had ever encountered had to be ignored for the moment before he could figure out exactly what was going on with her.

The final straw came when his office door was thrown open once again as Granger walked in, dropped a file on his desk and walked out just as quickly and without saying a word. The content of the file was one that needed to be discussed and he felt that familiar throbbing in his head once again. He wouldn't have been surprised if a vein on his neck burst considering how absolutely pissed he was that Granger had the bollocks to make him take over the financials while she looked into the other incidentals.

Deciding fast what he needed to do, Draco grabbed the file and stormed out of his office, making his way over to hers. He knew from eavesdropping over a conversation she recently had with the Minister for Magic that she had a meeting with the President for the Control of Elves organisation in a few minutes which was situated in the outskirts of wizarding London. When he saw her walk past him dressed in a yellow trench coat, he knew he had been right. The weather had been a constant downpour lately, so it was expected that anyone leaving the Ministry would be prepared to brave the winds and rain.

His eyes sparking in happiness, Draco moved fast towards Granger's office, intending to replace her folder with his. He had brought her the project in the first place; he would rather look after all other aspects instead of the financials which were a right bore. Besides, holding the much wanted file hostage was a wonderful way to get back at her for ignoring him.

Making sure that her Secretary was nowhere in sight, Draco opened the door, only to be surprised by the image of Hermione Granger sitting behind her desk and looking over a mountain of paperwork. Her eyes widened in panic while he simply stared at her. "Granger. What are you-?" He stopped. He had been sure that he had seen her heading out of the Ministry barely a few moments ago. He was positive.

She dropped her gaze from him, her eyes quickly scanning through a document already on her desk in a poor effort to avoid him. "What are you doing here?"

Draco blanched. Did she really just ask him that question? "You come into my office whenever you want. I can't come into yours?"

She kept her head low. "No, of course not. What do you want?"

He didn't know what it was, but he had the sudden need to demand that she look at him. Instead, he followed his impulse and asked a question he had had no intention of asking in the first place. "Where were you two nights ago?"

This time, her quill paused and her eyes widened slightly in panic. Draco couldn't help but smirk when he realised that he finally affected her in some way. She cleared her throat. "I have no idea why you're asking me that."

"Don't you?" Dropping the file on her desk, he placed both palms on either side of her and leaned in. "Not even a little?"

The way she twitched in her seat was more than what he could have hoped for.

He leaned even closer, determined to tease her into admitting it. "Hermione." He said her name softly, sensually, letting it roll over his tongue and letting his breath ghost gently against her temple.

Slowly, her head rose and her eyes met his. There was fear there and he felt the smirk leave his face as he moved even closer against his will. She had always had that effect on him; the ability to draw him in no matter what she said or did. It was pure desire that made his glance fall down to her parted lips and it was pure lust that made him shift that much closer to her until his lips claimed hers in a slow, short kiss; one that left him feeling breathless and one that made her eyes darken incredibly. If Draco ever knew how to breathe, he had forgotten it now.

Without a second thought, his hand rose to the nape of her neck, keeping her still with a tight grip as he kissed her once again; this time so savagely that she stood up from her seat, her arms circling him and pulling him closer. Their tongues duelled, their breaths mingled, and all he could think about was his need to rip the robes right off her. The moan that escaped her only fuelled him further, but the gasp from the door caused them both to stop. Malfoy smirked at how dishevelled she looked before his glance fell on the open office door and his smirk dropped.

There stood Hermione Granger, wearing the same robes as the witch he had currently been snogging and blushing furiously at the scene.

The Granger at the door looked away, her very demeanour nervous. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

The Granger behind the desk sputtered a greeting while she straightened her robes. "What is it, Amanda?"

"I...um..." The Granger at the door shifted from one foot to the other. "I wanted to let you know that Mr Parkerson has agreed to increase the spending by three percent."

"Good work," the dishevelled Granger said with an awkward smile.

"Thanks." A moment of silence passed before the Granger at the door suddenly smiled sheepishly. "Oh. I should..." She turned to leave before she stopped to look at the Granger behind the desk. "Do you need me tomorrow?"

The other Granger shook her head. "Layla will be taking over. So feel free to come to work as yourself."

With a final grin, and a blush towards Draco, the Granger at the door left. Draco continued to stare at the spot where she had been before he finally looked at the Granger he had been snogging and had every intention of shagging. "Polyjuice?"

Granger nodded while she distractedly straightened her hair. "There are too many meetings that require my presence but don't really need me there. I thought this was the best way instead of wasting hours on end without doing anything productive." She looked at him cautiously. "Draco?"

Draco suddenly felt very light headed. He had never heard Granger use his given name before. "So, you are...?"

She eyed him in confusion. "I am...?"

"Are you the one?"

She shook her head. "The one?"

"Are you the real Hermione Granger?" he snapped.

Granger blushed and he suddenly knew he had the wrong one. "I'm sorry..."

But he didn't let her finish. All he saw was red. "Where is she?"


He grabbed her arms and met her eyes squarely. "You're going to tell me where she is and you are going to tell me who it was that booked me into the Three Broomsticks two nights ago because I have a feeling that you know exactly what is going on."

The girl shivered slightly and said, "Yes, Mr Malfoy," meekly. Recognising the lilt in her voice, Draco let her go, vowing never to keep Secretaries who had a crush on him ever again.

When Draco found her, he had already made up his mind that he wanted to murder her; how and whether or not torture should be involved was still up for discussion.

"Haven't you been a busy little bee?" he snickered, intending it to be said lightly, but his tone came out with an annoyed snarl instead.

Granger's eyes widened before she tried to close the door in his face. However, Draco had already placed his shoulder against the door and with a gentle shove, he found himself in Granger's flat. As expected, she was knee deep in documents, charts and books. The fake Granger had told him that the real Granger needed time to prepare for the launch of the new organisation their department was overseeing and she had employed a handful of interns to take her place in several mundane meetings where she had considered herself next to useless. He had wondered how she was getting so much done when she was working on other projects all the bloody time; and he had finally got his answer through a reluctant source, which was less than satisfactory. Although, he had to admit that seeing his partner in Muggle wear made him want to rip the clothes off her for good measure.

Her eyes sparked with fury as he continued to survey her sitting room with a curious sweep of his gaze. "Get out."

Now that expression was so familiar that it made his smirk widen. "You were the one on my birthday."

She narrowed her eyes at him, even as she pursed her lips in annoyance. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't you?" he asked in a mocking tone before he shut the door behind him and advanced on her with slow, lazy steps, revelling in how she took a step back whenever he stepped closer to her. "And you were the one at today's meeting, as well as the person I spoke to yesterday. The only thing is...you didn't come to my office, did you? You sent someone else so you wouldn't have to be in the same room with me. Alone."

She kept moving back, her eyes narrowed in a silent threat. "I told you. I have no idea what you're talking about."

Draco smirked, his steps becoming more predatory than before. "Granger, Granger, Granger. You really shouldn't lie."

She gulped. "Get out or I will..." She looked around and Draco had the sudden suspicion that she was looking for her wand. He had no intention of letting her do what she wanted.

"You will what?" She tried to move around chairs and tables, trying to keep him away, but he followed her diligently.

Draco knew from past experiences that if he ever spoke to her as a witch who was unable to compete with him on his level, Granger had a nasty habit of trying to prove her worth. This was no exception. "You don't want to anger me, Malfoy. What are you doing here?" Her voice was hard, even though he could tell that she had put in a lot of effort to look unaffected.

"I was hoping that you could answer a question for me," he muttered in a teasing manner. "How many Grangers does it take to do a job?"

She suddenly stopped behind a chair, her back straight and her eyes wide. "How did you-?"

"Find out?" He stepped around a table and circled around the chair until she had nowhere else to go but walk backwards until her back hit the wall. "There are few things that I don't know."

Recognition dawned in her eyes. "Who told you?"

He simply smirked. "My question is...Becky? Really? The woman can't even organise the files alphabetically."

"And yet," Granger said with the sweetest of smiles, "she's your assistant."

"Only because of her father."

"Who you obviously need to ensure that the launch goes well."

He eyed her seriously, his gaze penetrating through. "It was you, wasn't it? Two nights ago."

She looked away from him. "I have no idea what you're-"

But he didn't let her continue. Instead, he bent down and captured her lips with his. She responded eagerly for a moment before she placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back.

"We are not doing that again," she said forcefully, her breath ragged.

He didn't believe that; not at all. "Why not?"

She gasped, sputtered, then gasped again. "Because we work together." He looked at her pointedly. "And we don't like each other." He raised an eyebrow at her. "And we are... You are completely...Malfoy." She sighed his name, and it could have definitely been her response to the way he had snaked his hand around her waist, letting his thumb stroke her bare skin under the thin t-shirt that she wore.

He didn't want to give her the chance to change her mind. This time when he kissed her, she didn't push him away immediately but held him close, her fingers trailing through his hair and her tongue meeting his teasingly. It was a kiss that made his blood race, his chest hurt and his spine tingle; and he couldn't help but pull her closer so that he could feel every inch of her body against his. "Merlin," he whispered against her neck, his teeth burying in her skin with a gentle nip, "I would only do this for you."

"Do what?" she asked breathlessly before she pulled at his hair at the nape of his neck and raised his head to kiss him thoroughly on the lips.

"Follow you," he whispered against her lips as his hands fumbled with the annoying clothes that covered her. "You're the most maddening, infuriating and exasperating witch I have ever met in my life."

"As if you're any better," she mumbled against his cheek, even as her fingers went to work on his own work robes. "I don't know anyone as childish or selfish as you."

Draco chuckled as he unbuttoned her jeans, fiddled with the zip and started pulling the material off her. "Clearly you need to learn how to live."

"And clearly you need to learn responsibility."

He shrugged off his shirt before he lifted her by the back of her thighs so her legs could circle his waist. "There is one thing you must promise me if you ever want me to defile you again."

Granger laughed. "I can't promise anything."

Draco let his hands roam around the lace across her hips. "One Hermione Granger is more than enough to live with. More than one, it would have to be notified."

Her grin fell. "You wouldn't."

He simply kissed her and was surprised when she didn't push him away and insist that he leave.

"I'm surprised. I would have thought that you would want all of us. Together."

Draco stared at her. "On the other hand-"

This time when she kissed him, he eagerly responded until she pulled back once again. "There is one other thing..."

He looked at her with a deadly serious expression. "If it is about the two tossers who follow you around, I will gladly tell them that I'm shagging you; even though I will take absolutely no pleasure in it."

Her lips twisted in amusement even as her gaze narrowed at him. "I'm not the type of girl you usually go out with. So if you think that you can treat me like that-"

He kissed her, a hand creeping around her to easily snap open her lacy bra. "Granger, I already know you're different from them all. The possibility of getting hexed by you only makes this that much more interesting." And determined to silence her he kissed her again, only this time, doing everything in his power to ensure that if she made a sound, it was a moan of pleasure, and if she said a word, it was to scream his name.