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Yeah, so what if it isn’t mine! You want to fight about it?

A/N~ Thanks again for all of the reviews. I am so tickled! I just want warn you in advance that this chapter is kind of dark. I was listening to The Cure and The Smiths when I was doing my rough draft, but I think it is a pretty good chapter.

Jenn~ I took your advice and developed a reason why Hermione is the way she is around Draco. I hope you approve. Let me know what you think and if I did it justice. I used a line from your review, see if you can spot it.

And now, on with the show….

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A couple of nights later, Hermione was laying awake in Malfoy’s bed, unable to sleep. It had been like this every time she tried to fall asleep. Her mind, her treacherous brain, wouldn’t let her rest. All she could think about was how Malfoy had referred to her as “his”. It wasn’t so much that which kept her awake, no, it was the fact that she wasn’t entirely uncomfortable at the thought of being his girl. Of course, she would never tell him this, knowing that not only if she said it out loud, it would seem as if she accepted it, but she was quite certain that he would use it against her, he would know he had some sort of hold over her. Hermione wouldn’t let that happen.

During the times they shagged after their conversation in the library, Malfoy had become fond of saying, “Tell me you are mine.” Or “Tell me you belong to me.” Hermione would always respond with a firm “No.” This reply from her caused Malfoy to hammer into her while muttering expletives she was sure would make sailors blush. It only turned Hermione on even more. Mental disorder indeed.

Hermione looked over at the sleeping form of Malfoy. He was laying on his back, with his right arm thrown above his head, his left arm limp by his side. The green silk sheets were draped across his torso, exposing his muscular chest and stomach. The light shinning light from the full moon peaking through his uncovered window fell across his body, giving his porcelain skin a wondrous glow. His fair hair was falling away from his face, giving her an unobstructed view of his face. Short dark eyelashes barley brushed his high check bones, and his usual smirking or sneering mouth was set in a straight line, his plump soft lips beckoning to Hermione. Must resist kissing him, must let him sleep so he will be in a somewhat agreeable mood tomorrow.

As if Malfoy heard and agreed with Hermione’s thoughts, he turned on his side, facing away from Hermione, leaving her to battle with her brain. Hermione harrumphed quietly and muttered “Tease.”, as she closed her eyes. It was no use; her efforts to sleep were hopeless. Might as well give into to the almighty mind, the sooner she accommodates the spinning wheels in her head, the sooner they will stop.

So she ceased fighting, and the first thought that came to her head was to ask herself why she was still in this bastardized excuse for a relationship. In the beginning, when she was trying to validate her reasons, she intentionally glossed over one that was always hidden in the depths of her consciousness, why she agreed to be with Malfoy, and why she was laying in his bed stark naked right now. It made her feel good, she actually felt sexy and desirable. Hermione couldn’t help but notice that it boosted her confidence immensely to know that Malfoy wanted her, and kept on wanting her. Perhaps that is the reason why she continued with their affair.

Hermione shifted in the bed, turning on her side, facing Malfoy’s stone wall. The spinning in her head continued.

Harry and Ron, as much as she loved them, never saw her more than just one of the blokes. Of course, Hermione never had a problem with it, as a matter of fact, she preferred it. There was never the underlying sexual tension between them, well, her and them. She liked that they didn’t see her as a sexual being, but only as their friend. It was how all the boys she knew saw her. That was, until 4th year, and Viktor Krum started paying attention to her.

At first Hermione thought he wanted an academic relationship with her, and nothing else, until one day in the library when he was watching her read, she looked up and into his eyes to see them darkly cloaked with desire. Out of all the girls who wanted to be with him, who followed him around, and strutted in front of him trying to get his admiration, he wanted to be with her. Hermione remembered the jolt of excitement she felt rush through her body when she understood why he sat with her in the library, and she didn’t exactly hate the feeling it gave her. She wasn’t quite sure how to react, so she continued to be the meek and shy bookworm he had fallen for.

The night of the Yule Ball, she let Viktor kiss her. He kept telling her how beautiful she looked, and every time he did, she felt her confidence expand, becoming stronger. When he kissed her, she kissed him back. Hermione was amazed with herself. Gone was the girl who barley could keep her hands still and walk without bumping into something and in her place was a young woman who was drowning in fascination of how adventurous and alluring she was becoming. That was until Ron had caused it all to come crashing down later that night, allowing her to think more clearly, and the thought of changing so drastically terrified Hermione.

The rest of her time spent with Viktor saw the return of the Hermione everyone knew, not that she would ever let them see the different side of her. She denied the new state of mind she had temporarily endorsed, she had never been sexy and bold, and she didn’t like the place she thought it would take her. Even when she went to visit Viktor in Bulgaria, she shut the feeling out. She knew Viktor wanted more from their relationship, but at that time, she wasn’t willing to let herself go. Every time he kissed her, Hermione felt the urge to take it further, and not only did it terrify her, but it also made her feel selfish and, quite frankly, slutty. So she pushed Viktor away and focused on her academic career more than ever.

Hermione had gotten through her 5th and 6th years of school with flying colors, thankful that everyone in the institution saw her as an intellectual entity and nothing more. Her 7th year was going just as spiffingly until Blaise Zabini approached her that say in the library. He wanted to shag her, and that feeling, that confidence that Hermione thought she had abolished leapt to life and claimed her. She thought that maybe just this once she would delight in it rather than deny it again, and by getting rid of her virginity, she would be able to completely centralize on school without any ideas of sex and its effect on her creeping up on her every now and then. So, she killed two birds with one stone, and found that not only did she enjoy her newly embraced confidence, but she also liked sex, a lot.

It was with this most recent revelation that Hermione got shaken about. She didn’t want to become a slag like so many other girls at Hogwarts; she didn’t want a bad reputation to overshadow her good one, so she disposed of her relationship with Zabini. She decided to accept her brand new boldness, the Gryffindor in her making another appearance, but she came to the conclusion that she would be more selective about who got to witness the daring side of the Head Girl.

Enter Draco Malfoy. The one person she never considered, mainly because he was a right wanker and her best friend’s nemesis at school, told her he was attracted to her. Hermione had always been able to match wits with him, never bumbling or stuttering in his presence. She thought that he had seen her in the same, although very skewed, way as Harry and Ron did, non-sexually. With the bit of information Malfoy shared with her, Hermione was faced with the decision whether or not to indulge the pleasure seeker in her. Maybe that was what led her to admit to herself that she was attracted to Malfoy as well. Perhaps that was why she be a confidant and aggressive vixen when it came to Malfoy, and maybe even Zabini, and a jumble of nerves when it came to everything else non-academic or non-life threatening. At least she had confidence in those major aspects of her life, maybe it would over flow to the insignificant parts too.

Hermione flopped back onto her back, causing the bed to bounce and Malfoy to grumble something about Hippogriffs. There was no way she was going to be able to sleep, so as gently as she could, Hermione got out of Malfoy’s bed, scooped up her scattered clothes, and dressed by the light of the moon. She held her wand in her hand, just in case she encountered a stray Slytherin on her way out, knowing the possibility was slim when Hermione glanced at the clock near Malfoy’s bed and saw it was 2 o’clock in the morning.

Just as she reached the door, Hermione heard a rustle of sheets and the sleepy voice of Malfoy.

“Where are you running off to Granger?”

“I am not running anywhere. I am going to sleep in my own bed. It is early and I might as well slip out now before I get caught, in either common room.”

“Oh, alright then, good thinking. Get out.”

Hermione couldn’t help but shake her head and smile as she stepped out of Malfoy’s room and descended the stairs to the common room. Hermione was relived to see that the room was empty. She tiptoed across the darkened room, the only light presented sporadically from the dying embers in the fireplace.

When Hermione was a few paces away from the door, she heard a deep and sinister voice whisper, “A little late for a Head’s meeting, isn’t it Granger?”

Reflexively, Hermione pointed her wand in the direction the voice had come from, ready to deliver a defensive curse. She could only see her wand threatening the dark and not the culprit who spoke to her. The voice sounded familiar.

As she placed who the voice belonged to, Blaise Zabini stepped into the faint light, a couple of meters away from her, smiling devilishly at her. Damn it, she had been caught!

“Now, now, there is no need for that.” He said smoothly, nodding at her still raised wand.

Hermione definitely did not like the way he was looking at her. She had seen that face before, when they were in the Room of Requirement together. She lowered her wand, but there was no way she was going to put it away, especially with “Constant Vigilance” echoing in her head.

“What do you want?”

He took a step closer to her.

“I didn’t quite believe Draco when he told me you two were having it off in his room, but now that I have witnessed the Head Girl trying to sneak away undetected from the Head Boy’s private quarters, I am inclined to trust his word.”

To say the least, Hermione was discombobulated at the prospect of Malfoy telling him about their nightly rendezvous in Malfoy’s room. They had agreed not to tell anyone, the bloody liar.

“Malfoy told you?” she asked heatedly.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist Granger. He only confirmed what I had concluded myself. And don’t worry; your secret is safe with me. I am good at keeping dirty little secrets, remember?”

“Faintly.”

His damnable smile turned into a leer as he started slowly walking closer to her, causing Hermione to step back slowly, mirroring his movements. He was looking at her hungrily, and Hermione instantly knew where he was directing their conversation.

“Am I really that forgettable? As I recall, you thoroughly enjoyed yourself.”

If he was going to play this way, there was no bleeding way that Hermione was going to back down. He would not be able to manipulate her.

“That I did, but what you seem to forget is that I ended it over a month ago. I moved on to something bigger and better.” Hermione made sure to emphasize her last few words.

He merely quietly laughed at her, continuing to step closer to her.

“Yes, well, I’d be more than willing to refresh your memory. I can show you, do to you, all that you never gave me the chance to.”

“You showed me enough. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to get to my room.”

Hermione tried to side step him, as he had gotten close to her, but he chose that exact moment to take one last step, causing Hermione to feel her back come into contact with the stone wall that she thought was further behind her. He placed both hands on either side of her body, blocking her escape, and when she glared furiously at him, he laughed again.

“What about giving me another chance?”

“No.”

“And why not, may I ask?”

“Because I am completely satisfied with Malfoy…completely.”

“Tell me,” he whispered as he leaned closer to her, his mouth centimeters from her ear, “when Draco has his mouth on your sweet skin, when his hands are on you delicious thighs, spreading your shapely legs apart so he can fuck you viciously, when you climax, do you scream out ‘Draco’ or ‘Malfoy’? I’d wager it is the latter. I believe that even when he has his hard cock buried deep inside your wet tight cunt, you can’t bring yourself to use his first name, because it would make the dirty wicked activities you do all too real.”

“Don’t do this.”

“When you have your beautiful pink lips wrapped around his dick, when you are riding him at a gallop, when he comes and fills your center with his essence and gives you that final powerful thrust, his juices mixing with yours, does he growl out ‘Hermione’ or ‘Granger’? Or is it ‘Mudblood’?”

Hermione was fuming. Where did he get off thinking he could talk to her this way? The hand holding her wand by her side began twitching, begging her to spring into action. Hermione felt it was fair to give him a warning first.

“Back off.”

Her threat did nothing to dissuade him. Instead, she felt him lean in even closer, the full length of his body was now pressing up against hers. Hermione was trapped between him and the wall.

“Does he know that when I was fucking you, when I made you come, you called me Blaise? Does he know that when I heard my name fall from your swollen lips, it made me come harder than I ever had before? Does he know that you liked to be spoken to obscenely, or that you like to have your wrists restrained? Does he know how to touch you, where to touch you? Does he know everything about us?”

His tongue traced the outer shell of her ear, and Hermione jerked her head away, trying to put some space between the two of them. He still continued.

“I told him we only shagged a couple of times, because I knew that is what you would tell him. Just enough to break you in, but not spoil you. But guess what Granger, you are spoiled, ruined, damaged, and I am the one that did it to you. What do you think he would say or do, what would happen if he really knew the truth? What would happen if we fucked again?”

Hermione felt him press his erection against the apex of her thighs. She’d had enough.

“Zabini?” she said huskily.

“Blaise, darling. I have had my dick inside you numerous times; I think it is acceptable for you to call me by my name, even if you can’t call Draco by his.”

“Blaise?”

He licked her neck before moaning, “Yes, pet?”

Hermione withdrew her arm from her side and shoved the tip of her wand into his neck, right where she could see his pulse fluttering excitedly moments before.

“I said back the fuck off!” she snarled through clenched teeth.

Taking the hint, he finally took a few steps back, staring at her malevolently, the predatory glare still visible through his narrowed eyes. Hermione welcomed the rush of cold air she felt cloaking her body. She raised her chin challengingly, glaring at him hatefully. Hermione thought she had never been so mad in all her life.

“I love it when you are fiery; it reminds me of having you underneath me. It turns me on.” He actually had the bolloks to grab at the bulge in his trousers.

Hermione raised her wand steadily, her fierce gaze never wavering.

“Get this through your thick skull; I am done with you. I don’t want you anymore, and you most definitely won’t ever have me again. We are finished. If you ever come at me like this at any other time, not only will I let Malfoy know, who would most assuredly fuck you up beyond all belief, but I will give you absolutely no warning before I hex you into the next century.”

“You never answered my questions.”

“Fuck your questions.”

Hermione had been able to remove herself from the wall now, and was slowly making her way to the stone wall that hid the opening of the Slytherin common room, her wand still pointed at the boy in front of her.

“If you don’t answer me, I will go upstairs right now and tell Draco everything.”

Her heart jumped at the thought of Malfoy knowing she lied to him. There was no telling what he would. Hermione wasn’t ready to find out.

“Fine, you smarmy bastard, I will answer your questions. I don’t call him by his first name, and he doesn’t call me by mine. Maybe you’re right, maybe it is because it would make what we are doing too real to accept, maybe it is just because it adds to the atmosphere knowing that I am getting fucked by someone who I am not supposed to be able to stand. I didn’t tell him everything about us because I didn’t want to. Perhaps I do now. As for the rest of your absurd fucking wanking piece of shite questions,” and for this part Hermione swiftly walked up to him, staring straight into his dark eyes, “Malfoy knows exactly where to touch me, and how. He has a wicked ways with words that puts your sorry technique to shame, and see these marks, right here?” Hermione held her wrist in front of his face, “That is from when Malfoy had me tied to the bed tonight. He knows everything you do times one hundred. Malfoy is the best fuck I have ever had, and since you are the only other person who fits into that category, I guess that doesn’t say much about you.”

Hermione whipped herself around and stomped to the door, happy that she finally got that arsehole to shut his mouth for at least a few moments. As she reached the stone door and stepped out, she was stopped by the sound of his voice, horse and restrained, reaching her before the door closed.

“I will have you again Granger, mark my words. And you will undoubtedly be begging for it. Until then, love.”

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Hermione had a long day. Not only was she thankful that it was over, but she was practically overjoyed that it was Friday.

It had taken her longer than anticipated to reach Gryffindor tower earlier this morning, and seeing as how her mind was muddled with all sorts of thoughts, she often found herself walking in the opposite direction or turning down the wrong hallway. Hermione was grateful that being Head Girl meant that she didn’t really have a curfew as long as she had a legitimate reason for being out of bed. If she had gotten caught, and thank Merlin it hadn’t come to this, she would have told her captor that she was doing one last sweep of rounds, knowing how students were staying and sneaking out later more recently. Hermione had no idea if this was exactly accurate, but it sounded convincing, didn’t it?

When Hermione finally got to her room, she of course had trouble sleeping. Zabini’s words kept echoing in her head. So she hadn’t exactly told Malfoy the truth, but she knew that if she did, he would have gotten angrier when she revealed that she lost her virginity to Zabini. She was no fool; she could tell by the way he brutally shagged her that night he was irate that she had been with his best friend. And now she was having trouble deciding on whether or not she should tell Malfoy about her run in with Zabini in the common room. By the end of the day, she still hadn’t come to a conclusion, and had deduced that she would just go with her gut impulsively. Maybe it would be best to tell him the truth about her past with Zabini. She would have to eventually. During an insignificant moment in Advanced Potions, Hermione decided that she would tell Malfoy, and confirming her impressive intelligence, she devised the perfect plan. She would tell him right at he was coming. No one ever got mad when they were caught up in the bliss of an orgasm, right? That settled it.

Now walking down the empty hallway, Hermione rubbed her temples, enjoying the rare quiet. Most students were in their common rooms celebrating the fact that it was Friday. Smiling that her headache seemed to be going away, Hermione started to bask in the glory that was plaguing her classmates, that was until she felt the presence of someone larger than her walking behind her. She felt her smile fade.

Hoping, begging, pleading that it wasn't Blaise, Hermione sighed with relief when the sent of Malfoy (parchment, lemon, and some sort of expensive cologne) assailed her, and she felt her body relax.

He said nothing to her, but continued to walk behind her for a few meters and around the corner. He remained silent when Hermione felt him grab a hold of the back of her robes and pull her backwards, yanking her into enveloping darkness.

Before Hermione could protest, she heard Malfoy mutter a contraception charm and then “Lumos.” Briefly blinded by the small light, Hermione made out Malfoy smiling at her wickedly, already stripping off his robes by the time her eyes adjusted. Hermione also saw the buckets lining the floor and the brooms leaning up against the opposite wall.

“Malfoy, this is a broom closet.”

“What is your point?”

“My point is that I am not doing this in here. Anyone could walk in.”

Malfoy looked at her cynically as he tossed his robe on the floor and begun undoing his tie.

“You know Granger, you aren’t daring enough. At least I know how to take advantage of a good opportunity when I see it. Another contrast to add to the list.”

He stepped towards her and started working on her robe and tie.

“It has nothing to do with being daring Malfoy. It has to do with being caught.”

“Bolloks.” Her robe and tie joined his on the floor. “You know damn well that everyone is in their common rooms and the teachers are probably in the lounge, appreciating the fact that they don’t have to teach the pillock students here for another two days. No one is going to walk in on us. Now shut up.”

Malfoy captured her mouth with his, and she granted his tongue instant access to hers. He quickly unfastened her buttons, revealing her bra. She was delighted to see that he was amused with the emerald lace bra she had decided to wear today. While he was occupied telling her that seeing her is his house colors gave him an instant hard on, Hermione took the opportunity to unbutton his shirt and run her hands down the smooth expanse of his chest.

He resumed kissing her, his tongue laying claim to the crevasses of her mouth, and his hand grabbed her right leg, lifting it to rest on his lower waist, and allowing his wandering hand to move under her skirt. As his hand made its way to her bum, he removed his mouth from hers and found the spot on her neck, right near her ear that caused her to shiver every time he breathed in and out. Hermione hung her head back in ecstasy, her small hands buried in Malfoy’s silky hair, moaning quietly.

They were both lost in their own world of euphoria until the door was yanked open, spilling light into the dark closet, compelling both lovers to look up.

Hermione was most sure that the both of them resembled a deer caught in headlights. Hermione was vaguely aware that her skirt was exposing most of her upper leg, due to the fact that Malfoy’s hand was currently placed, and squeezing, her bum. Try as she might to lower the material, it was unsuccessful, for Malfoy’s arm was a major hindrance in regaining her modesty. It’s funny that her decency was the only thing on her mind while both she and Malfoy were gaping at the deeply astounded and equally speechless Professor Snape.

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A/N~ So what did you think? I know I left the discovery to the very end of the chapter, I am evil like that. Like I said, this chapter is a bit darker than my other ones, but it was how I felt it should have been conveyed. I really liked the exchange between Blaise and Hermione, what about you? Do I get bonus points for using the word “discombobulated”?

I expect many reviews, so make my weekend brilliant, and don’t let me down.

Kisses to all my faithful readers and reviewers, I couldn’t do this without your support!

Roberta