A/N: I update often, so follow. Please review. I'm so saddened that I get so many followers and not one review so often. I'll give sneak peaks at the next chapter!:)

Oh, and I've already written the beginning and end of this story, and we have quite a good crazy run ahead of us. Please join me. Oh, I do love a good drama, don't you?

One more thing, if you want to read something really, really sexy, and not so fluffy, check out chapter one of my novel, Seeing, its going to be published soon! Link is on my profile ;)


Chapter One: A Bump in the Bookstore

The night I fucked Draco Malfoy the first time, felt so good, I didn't even have the grace to feel bad about it. For a whole day.

Not until after.

Late on a Saturday evening, we bumped into each other at a bookstore, of all places.

"Granger," he greeted me, when I joined the aisle he was currently in, flipping through a hardcover. "Not a surprise to see you here tonight."

I stopped in my tracks. Malfoy was tall with angular features, hollow cheeks and pillowy lips. His white-blonde hair and twinkling dark grey eyes made him look dangerously appealing. His body, naturally, had filled out. I was surprised by how handsomely manly-yet-boyish he looked in a simple long sleeve, black shirt, that showed the shape of his torso muscles in ways that could give me a heat rash, and jeans.

That color just did things for him.

I liked it a bit too much to turn away.

"No," I said, amused, "I guess not. It is to see you here, though."

"No, no. It isn't. But I'd bet you already knew that."

I did. Draco and I had been Head Boy and Head Girl when we returned for our senior year.

"That's not what I meant." I replied simply, snatching the book he held out of his hand. "And you should know that."

The bookstore was a mix of muggle and wizard collections, an old, old store from way back before the war, before everything. It was a miracle it survived, and it was my second favorite place in the world. I was curious as to what he would read here.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? Times have changed. And some of these muggle authors spit good shit." I laughed, opening the book I'd stolen from him.

"What's this? You're reading..." I feigned a gasp, "Love letters from Famous Wizards?"

He snapped the book shut, and tucked it under his arm. "So? What of it?" He said defensively.

"No, no, no. I'm not letting this one go. Draco Malfoy, King of Slytherin, is reading-"

"Oh hush, Granger." He cut me off. " It's not about the mush. I just enjoy the way they used words, like... these immaculate words, to describe how they feel. No one even uses words like that anymore. Bit of a shame, if you ask me."

I looked at him curiously. Did Draco Malfoy just say something so insightful?...I swear I'd thought something so similar before. But I wasn't about to tell Malfoy that. "Interesting point. Art thou not busy? 'tis Saturday night!" I found myself joking, joking, can you believe? Yes, really, me.

He smirked at me. "I was planning to go for a drink after this with some mates. What about you?" He eyed my outfit.

I obviously looked ready to go somewhere, in a sheer, fitted, short sleeve black dress, that came just to above my knees and then stopped altogether. It was casual, but too nice for just book browsing.

"My husband's on business in Niece this weekend. I was supposed to go meet a girlfriend. But I wasn't really feeling for an inane night of useless conversation." I admitted. "Which is why I was...procrastinating, here."

He looked thoughtful for a second. Then, he opened the book, ruffled the pages madly, before spouting an "Aha!" and read, "You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking. It comes to me as of a dream." He then smiled triumphantly and I understood, knew I wouldn't be able to say no to what he was going to ask.

"Join me for a drink?"

I found I didn't want to say no, and that alone intrigued me. He intrigued me. There just wasn't enough of that in my plain, boring, meaningless life. Ginny wouldn't even notice I didn't show up.

"Great," he took my silence as a reply, "I know just the place. You can tell me all about this Shakespere fellow."

I laughed the entire time we filed out.


Goors was a wizarding bar, apparently. Naturally, I wouldn't know. I had no life. I side-alonged with Draco on the way here. I tried to ignore the tingling feeling of him touching me, me touched him tightly.

We'd been sitting at the bar since 8, and it was 9 now, and almost the entire time, Draco had been trying to convince me that Shakespeare was barking mad and deserved to be put away. "Who on earth makes up their own language?"

"Malfoy," I started, holding onto my stomach which hurt from laughing. "What about all the people who admire him and adore the language? What are they?"

"Oh, don't get me started," he said dramatically, "They. are. absolute. prats." The firewhiskey must have been getting to me because I thought this was the funniest thing I ever heard, and couldn't help my uncontrollable hearty laugh.

"You're absolutely horrible," I told him, smiling, tossing back another drink. But somehow again, Malfoy knew what I meant, I saw recognition in his eyes. This is so much better than I thought it would be.

We were enjoying ourselves.

And that's to say the least. I felt his stormy eyes on me, watching, smoldering, as I stared at my empty glass.

"You ever think," I started, pausing. What was I going to say? Oh, right. "That the world is just so typical? Everyone does the same things, if they're lucky, grow up, get an education, get married, get a good job, have babies. It's so routine."

"Is that what you feel like you're doing? Following a routine?"

I frowned. "I do what I think I'm supposed to do. Always have. You would think, after the War, I would appreciate..these things. But I just feel bad. Like a fake. I feel...bad." Because it isn't what I want. And I don't know why.

"I...know what you mean." He said in a low voice. I studied him closely, his downcast eyes, long, pale fingers thrumming against the hard wood of the bar top.

"Do you?" I whispered.

"I'm supposed to get married soon. To Astoria Greengrass. Supposed to. She's pureblood. To get my inheritance. It's been...arranged." He paused. "I don't know. What if she snores or doesn't shave her armpits? What if she doesn't read and only shops and spends all my money? What if she doesn't like the things I like? How am I supposed to wake up next to a stranger every day? The idea has turned me off to marriage altogether, and I'm 30." He scoffed. "But yeah, I know what you mean. And I feel bad about it, too. Like, why can't I just do what's expected of me, and enjoy the luxury of what I've been blessed with? It seems so selfish. Give up all that money because I just didn't know what I wanted."

I couldn't help it, I reached out and grasped his upper arm, the thick, hard muscle I felt under my hand sent tingles through my fingertips. "Don't do it, Draco." I whispered to him. "Your life will become as bland and lifeless and lonely as mine." He grabbed my hand and held it in his, looking at it and not me. I felt the heat rise to my face as I leaned into him, the warmth of his body radiated into mine.

"Look at us," he said, and I ignored the thrill that went through me that he considered us something at all in one group. "We, are a couple of losers." He tried to laugh again but the sound was hard. "I never expected that I would lose interest in... just about everything."

This was the first mistake. Me, saying this. Alcohol-induced word vomit. "I find you very interesting, Malfoy." Shit, why did I say that? I felt dazed. Why am I so fascinated by you?

He traced circles in the palm of my hand, his face serious. I wondered why what were were doing felt so casual.

"Your hand is so soft," he said, strangely, softly. He looked up at me with eyes so fierce my mouth suddenly went dry. He leaned into me then, and excitement burst through me as his pillow-y lips came inches from mine.

"Kiss me, Granger." He said, whispering. "Kiss me- and don't feel bad about it."

When we kissed it was like we made magic. When his lips finally touched mine, our heads tilted, his sweet breath mingled with mine, and then he was sucking on my lower lip, which immediately made crazed with want.

Our connection was as powerful as a Patronus.

When we pulled away, gasping for breath, he leaned his forehead on mine. "Come to my place, Granger."

"No," I shoved him drunkenly away from me, suddenly remembering that I was married, that I had a husband, that we were supposed to be enemies for eternity. "Fuck, no. Fuck." I cursed, scampering away from the bar. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the bar. We rounded the corner and he shoved me against the brick wall on the side of the bar.

"Yes," he said, fiercely, madly, passionately, kissing me again. He kissed and kissed. My top lip, my bottom lip, the skin on my neck. I thought I would die from the heat of it. We were both attempting to catch our breath but not wanting to stop.

And then I suddenly didn't give a damn about anything else.

I grabbed him hard then, and Apparated him directly into my place. We stumbled into my bed.

We tore off all our clothes and he set me down on it, pulling me against the edge. Roughly, he pushed my knees apart and bent down to lick the length of my pussy. My entire body jerked and fireworks went off behind my eyelids. He continued on my clit and I came soon, my abdomen exploding, but he didn't stop, drawing the waves of pleasure. After I came down, he shoved into me, thick, hard, and impossibly long, slamming into me again and again. I almost screamed with the force and pleasure of it. His fingers dug onto my hips as he pushed in again and again, I raked my nails across his nipples experimentally and he groaned like I thought he would, and we both came again, together.

We laid panting, catching our breath, limply, stark naked, side by side, just staring into each others eyes, myself on my stomach, he on his back. After minutes, hours, I couldn't tell you and we had recovered, Draco said, "Again."

"No," I said stubbornly, turning my face to face the other way.

"Again, Granger," he repeated. He trailed his long finger all the way down my spine to my bottom, which he grabbed roughly and then proceeded to straddle.

I moaned when he squeezed my cheeks again, before moving his hands down to separate my legs.

He slid into me from there and I suddenly lost all desire to protest.

He fucked me right into the bed and it was sinfully good. Absolutely, bloody, brilliantly sinful, and good.


Great. Of course. The one morning I decide to cheat on my husband, his sister decides to remember I exist.

"Hermioneeee!" She called from the front foyer. Goodness, I detested the wizardly aversion to knocking on front doors and instead barging in through the fire. What if we were having sex on the couch?

"Shit, Draco, grab your clothes and get in the closet."

"Hmm?" He muterred, still asleep. "Ginny's here! Now hide, quick, go!" I pushed him off the bed and he scrambled naked, grabbing his clothes quickly, into my closet, shutting the door as quietly as possible. In the meantime, I smoothed out the bed and wrapped a towel around my naked self, kicking my clothes under the bed.

"Gin?" I called out the door. "Is that you? I just got out of the shower." I lied.

"Oh, okay." She walked in and sat down on the bed, swinging her feet. "So, what'd you do last night?"

I smoothed my hair down nervously and went to get clean clothes, keeping an eye out for any signs we'd missed. My heart thundered in my chest.

"Oh, not much. Went to the bookstore and stayed in with a good book. Wasn't feeling well. I'm a bit under the weather. How about you, where are your totters?" I tried to change the subject.

Ginny had quit playing Quidditch professionally to be a stay-at-home mom when she gave birth to James, and then later, Albus. They were the cutest little things, 4 and 3 years old.

She laughed. "They're good, asking for Auntie Hermie." She teased. I hated being called Hermie, but it was what the babies could say. Plus, they were too cute for worlds. Cuter, mini-harrys.

"Harry and I should be making number 3 this weekend." She sighed, Ginny was dying for a girl to complete the family. Then she was done. "I want them to be close together in age."

"Yeah..too bad." Ron and Harry had an auror mission in Niece. Shit, I realized Draco was still trapped in the closet and I hadn't modified the Wards to allow him to apparate out or in. My brain was too frazzled to do it at the moment. I had to get Gin out of here.

"Hey, what do you say we go get a coffee from Matilda's? I like the new Fire roast."

"Sure," she replied easily, oblivious to my nerves. "Well, hurry up and change then! Oh, did I tell you what Albus did recently? He'd seen James flying around on his toy broom and-"

I changed while Ginny rambled, tuning her out. Poor Draco was in the closet. Now I just had to walk out and leave. But maybe that was best. Maybe this...was a one time thing. I wouldn't be quite sure what to say to him when he woke up, anyway.

Denial.

While I was at coffee with Gin, I realized I had not once thought directly about Ron and what happened all morning. only that I hadn't had a chance to say goodbye to Draco...


Since the only safe, unsuspicious way for him to contact me was when I was at the office, he used a common barn owl. In my office, admist piles of other papers, his letter atop it.

I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

Draco

I almost melted, recognizing the end of the poem he read from our very first meeting. I could almost see the look in his eyes after we'd done it the first time, a look I was sure was reflected in mine. When we just stared.

His eyes said, what is this? With incredulity. With awe.

I knew I had to find out.


If you want more sexy where that came from, check out my story, Seeing, on my profile.