A/N: Hi everyone! First and foremost, a shout out to Mr. Benzedrine for helping me out with this story and supporting me the entire way through! You should see how I make her squirm by giving her teasers. It's amazing. :D She's been an inspiration to my writing through and through, be sure to check out all of her work, 'cause it's simply amazing.

I know I've been absent a bit from Empire (if you haven't, go check it out! It's a romcom.), but that's 'cause I've been working on this fic! It started off as a one-shot, but I ended up putting so much into it that I couldn't keep it a one-shot without taking out all the feels. So, today, I present to you my one-shot failure: Background! It'll be split into three parts. This story ended up being very close to my heart, since I'm going through some tough times in my own relationship. This fic was also inspired by Barcelona, a band, who I'll mention several times throughout the stores. Give them a shot! And though Background is not a conventional Dramione fic, I hope you still enjoy it.

Give it a chance, perhaps it'll touch your heart a little bit.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters in it. They all belong to the wonderful JK Rowling.

Summary: Every story has an end, but in life, every ending is an opportunity for a new beginning. For Hermione, it took her three years, two months, and eighteen days for the pages to start turning again. Her chapter with Blaise Zabini was beautiful, filled with adventures until life threw a curve ball into their relationship- it brought Draco Malfoy back. Dramione/Blamione Love Triangle

Chapter 1 - Love Me

I've been up all night thinking 'bout you baby

You've been runnin round in my head

Tell me what you like, I can give it to you

We can start right here in my bed

Touch - Barcelona

The air was thick, suffocating, stifling. Heavy breathing and moans echoed in the grand room, adding to the already loud sound effects of the wooden headboard slamming against the fragile wall. Sensual candles, floating above the king sized bed, illuminated the, otherwise, dark space.

And there they were, tangled in the bed sheets. Tangled in each other's embrace.

"...Merlin, you feel so good..." he growled, capturing her bruised lips with a deep kiss. He pressed his chest onto hers, ignoring the thin layer of sweat between them, and earned himself a groan from his female counterpart.

"Yesss..." she hissed, her arms wrapped around the nape of his neck as her legs wound around his waist, encouraging him to thrust deeper into her. "Mmmmph! Oh gods, Draco!" she screamed, throwing her head back as she rolled her hips into his blows. Her eyelids fluttered as a powerful wave of orgasm traveled through her body, leaving her weak and trembling under the man.

Draco pulled himself away from her, and she almost cried from the missing contact. He propped himself up with his elbows on either side of her head, panting, trying to catch his breath. His wispy blonde hair, drenched in perspiration, brushed against her cheeks. His grey eyes bore into her brown orbs, watching her beautiful face as she recuperated from her high.

Soft music played in the background, barely audible from their lustful exchanges. His hands smoothed over the curves of her hips as he slowly pulled out of her. She pouted. He smirked. His fingers, light to their touch on her sensitive skin, sent shudders and goosebumps running up and down her body as they trailed further towards her equally beautiful mound. They gently parted her lower lips, and slowly, almost painfully, rubbed against the hood of her clit. She moaned once more, lifting her lower half to meet his touch.

"Is this what you want?" Draco grazed the edge of her ear with his mouth. As he leaned, he could just barely see the curls of her eyelashes flitter at the touch of his lips on her skin.

"Please..." she begged, adjusting her weight as her hands searched for their prize.

"Tell me what you want, my love." He jerked his hips away as he watched his companion reach for his hard cock. His fingers, continuing their ministration on her sensitive bud, added vigor. She mewled, hoping her response was enough. He nipped at her throat, applying just enough pressure before easing back to taste her salty skin. Draco reveled in sweet victory as the sound of her continuous whimper.

He stroked her jaw with his free hand, applying kisses onto her lips once more.

Her hands found the back of his head, and she grasped his hair, yanking his head back, their eyes meeting each others once more. Draco nearly froze at her sudden actions.

She shot him a charming smirk- something she learned from him during their years of courtship. "If you..." the witch started, "won't give me what I want..." she scooted into a sitting position, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I'll just have to take it."

With her last comment, she forcefully shoved the blonde onto the bed, swiftly, their positions swapped. She was on top, now.

"Blimey, Hermione," he found himself laughing, shocked, at her newfound vigor.

She cradled him, her legs on either sides of his hips, kneeling as she leaned forward. "Playtime is over," Hermione purred, licking her lips. She arched her back, flaunting her pert breasts in his face while positioning herself onto him. Her hands gently stroked his stiff cock, and her hips swayed in circles, applying light pressure onto the tip. Draco groaned, his brows furrowed, tormented by her teasing gestures.

With his mouth, he captured her left breast, gingerly sucking and flicking her nipple with this tongue. Hermione gasped and shuddered at his touch. He knew she was weak when it came to her breasts. She knew what he was trying to do, and not wanting him to take control of the situation, the witch impaled herself on his cock. "Fuck!" He released her, gasping. Hermione began moving atop of him, sighing each time she sheathed him inside her. She angled her hips so her clit would brush against his abdomen, sending jolts of pleasure through her body.

It was his turn to throw his head back against the pillow, shouting obscenities. Merlin, how long has it been since they started fucking? Two hours? Three? He'd lost count long ago, but even still, Hermione was so wet, so tight, and so bloody perfect. Draco grabbed her hips, holding her in place as he pistoned into her, rolling up into her hot core. He would never grow tired of her.

She fell forward with a cry, holding herself up with shaking hands, as Draco, once again, claimed the reins from Hermione. She dug her nails into his flawless chest, but he welcomed the pain, it coaxed him on -to feel alive, to be inside her... This was his world.

Draco flipped Hermione over once more. Her bountiful brown hair splayed around her angelic features. "Fuck, Hermione..." he growled through gritted teeth as he grabbed the back of her legs and pushed them back against the mattress. Thank the gods above she was flexible. From this angle, they were able to feel so much more. With each thrust, he caressed her g-spot. With each thrust, she moaned and gasped and clawed. He pushed all the way in, filling Hermione as he was made to do. He paused, basking in the glory of what was his.

"Faster, Draco!" she begged, rocking her hips against his. He complied, setting a quick and steady pace that had her mind spinning in circles. Draco cupped her face, his clouded eyes memorizing her features; his thumb tracing her lips, pushing them apart. She responded with a lick, tracing her tongue around in circles before engulfing his digit.

He pressed his sweaty forehead against hers, muttering into her ear as he continued to pump into her, "Damn it, Hermione. You're so tight! So beautiful..." Draco freed a hand, finding his way back down to her sensitive clit, rubbing quick circles as he simultaneously ground into her.

Her moans were forced out of her with each thrust. She wasn't going to last much longer. Her legs began to quiver. And for Merlin's sake, she was even wetter than before. Draco found the nape of her neck once again, biting harshly onto her flawless skin. There was sure to be a mark tomorrow. Faster, faster, faster. "Aah! Yes, yes, yes!" The pleasure was so intense that she was writhing underneath him, creating a desync to their rhythm. "Fuck, yes! Draco!" Hermione screamed out his name as bright stars exploded behind her eyes.

He grunted, clenching his teeth as he followed in her bliss. Draco held his breath, his cock twitching inside her warmth, filling her, claiming what was rightfully his.

Draco fell onto her, showering his beautiful witch with feathered kisses from her brows to her jawline. Everything was his. "Mine..." he whispered. Draco pushed himself off, lying next to her, wrapping protective arms around her slender frame.

"My queen."

Her muscles spazzed, tensing as she protected herself from falling -or at least she dreamt of falling. Hermione woke up with a jolt -a hypnic jerk. She snapped open her eyes, but they were met with darkness. Her chest rose rapidly; her breathing was ragged, as if she was fishing for air. The silence in the bedroom was almost too loud, but the beating of her heart easily overpowered anything else. She felt her heart pounding, racing fiercy within her chest. It hurt. It ached. And though she was covered in a comforter, Hermione trembled, cold from the sweat that pooled around her.

The body next to hers stirred at the change in rhythm. He was always a light dozer, keen to pick up on changes, even when he was sleeping. "Are you okay, babe?" He muttered, eyes still closed. His voice was low and husky, raspy almost from just waking up. He shifted, turning his body towards hers and he opened his eyes, trying to find hers in the darkness.

"Hey," she started. Hermione didn't look at him. She merely stared at the ceiling above, counting the grooves above as her eyes adjusted to the evening light. "Sorry to wake you. Another nightmare." She lied. It was a wonderful dream. A beautifully sad dream. A distant memory.

Hermione kept counting. Twenty-one...twenty-two...twenty-three... She continued to count in hopes that he would fall back asleep. She didn't want to talk about it. She never did, but it always ended the same-in more lies.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He shifted his weight, sitting up and leaned against the wooden headboard, awake. If she could see him, she would see concern written on his face. He cared for her, truly, just as she cared for him.

She sighed inwardly. "I'm fine." She smiled, finally turning towards him at the count of fifty. When met with more silence, Hermione reassured him. "Really, I am."

She pushed herself into the same sitting position he was in and leaned towards him, kissing him gently on the lips. "I love that you care about me, even when you could be sleeping." Hermione smirked, speaking between feathered kisses, "I know how much you love your beauty sleep."

He smiled against her lips. Wrapping his strong arms around her delicate frame, he pulled her against his chest. Their naked bodies embracing each other. "Yes, but I love you more." He pressed into her kisses with fervor.

With ease and no effort at all, he lifted her, flipping Hermione onto her back. He climbed over her, and with one knee, spread her legs apart. He nipped at her bottom lip, sucking gently. His hands, calloused from the years of playing as a Quidditch catcher, grasped her neck gently. He squeezed ever so slightly before pressing his hands down her body. Over her collarbones. Her supple breasts. Her perky nipples. Her taut stomach. Her pussy.

He slipped a finger between her folds, and a sigh escaped her lips as he circled her clit. "You're already so wet..." he growled, nipping her earlobes. He showered her with kisses once more, the drowsiness replaced with excitement. He withdrew his hands, and Hermione squirmed, frowning as the pleasure was taken away.

He propped her legs up, wrapping them around his waist as he pushed his hips against hers, earning a gasp from Hermione. His erection was against her wet folds, sliding up and down, but never entering.

She wrapped her arms around the nape of his neck. Her whisper barely audible as she begged for sweet release.

"Blaise..."

Three years ago...

The fireplace roared to life as a tense silence carried through. Hermione stormed through the Floo, donned in a beautiful forest green plunge-neckline evening gown. Her heels clacked loudly against the tiles as she stepped out, brushing any soot off her expensive attire. In her left hand, a silver clutch wallet, which she chucked onto a couch several feet away from her. The orange cat sleeping on the furniture hissed at the sudden interruption and fled the room. Her, usual, brown frizzy hair was braided and bundled into an elegant fishtail bun.

A queen is what he called her. A beauty who outshined even Aphrodite herself.

He followed close behind. His white-blonde hair slicked back, how his mother would have preferred, and a frown drawn on his face. Draco was dressed a black suit, speckled with leftover Floo powder from when he stepped through the fire. His pointer finger hooked the knot of his matching forest green tie, wiggling and loosening it.

Hermione's body tensed at the sound of his arrival. Her shoulders went rigid, and her neck stiffened. She kept her eyes fixated on the bookcase sitting across the room, refusing to acknowledge his presence. Her jaws were clenched, as well as her fists, as she tried with all her might not to shed a single tear.

A sigh escaped his lips. "Hermione, can we please talk about this?" He spoke in a soft voice, much unlike Draco Malfoy, aware of her current state.

She stayed silent, unresponsive, unmoving.

Draco yanked off the silk tie, discarding it onto the ground and freed the first few buttons of his ash gray button-down. Patience wasn't his middle name. It never was. He, also, hated when she deliberately ignored him.

"I'm talking to you." Draco walked towards the witch, grabbing her arm in an attempt to turn her around, but she jerked herself free. "God damn it, Hermione. Grow up and talk to me!" He yanked her arms once more, forcing her to face him.

Another sigh as his anger dwindled. "Why... why are you crying?"

The gorgeous makeup, she applied for the evening, was smeared. Her eyeliner running down the sides of her cheek. God, so much for being strong. She silently cursed herself while looking straight into Draco's eyes. He stared at her, almost as if his gaze would pierce straight through to her soul, but, in reality, he knew nothing.

He knew nothing, even after three years.

"Why would you ask that?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. Her jaws trembled. "How do you know nothing about me?"

It was his turn to remain silent as she gathered the courage to steady herself.

"Did you not witness what went down tonight, Draco?" She pointed at the inactive fireplace, her voice growing louder. "Where's your head?" Her brows creased as she felt her anger grow. "It's been three years, Draco. Three years and they still abhor me." A sob escaped her ruby lips. Her chest palpitating from her irregular breathing.

Draco reached over, cupping her face as he brushed away the wet eyeliner.

She closed her eyes, leaning into the palm of his hands for a moment. Her hands clasped around his wrist, cherishing the moment as her heart ached painfully. It tore at her chest, threatening to escape. She just wanted it to stop. Tears continued to flow down her cheeks, and she sniffled, pulling away from his touch. "Why won't you ever stand up for me, Draco?"

He froze. "Is this what it is?"

"Why won't they accept me, Draco?" She looked at him while wiping away the tears. "I do so much for your parents. I try so hard to make them see who I truly am. But they... they see only the dirty blood running through my veins." Her left hand reached over to her arm right, fingers running along the permanent scar etched in by his aunt Bellatrix many years ago. Draco glanced down at her arm, swallowing hard. "I'll always be a filthy mudblood."

He winced at those words, recounting the days he used to make fun of her for her impurity. If only he learned earlier those imperfections were what made Hermione perfect. He spent many nights wishing he'd never called her a mudblood. Wishing she never learned the words. That she didn't have to bear the scar for the rest of her life.

"You're everything but, Hermione," his words were gentle once more. Draco stepped closer towards the witch, this time wrapping his arms around her in an embrace. "Don't think for a second you're anything less."

Draco leaned in to kiss Hermione, but she turned away, denying his affection. "I have never been so humiliated- and in front of everyone else."

"It was a wonderful meal, Mother." Draco smiled at the older Malfoy, setting his utensils on the empty plate.

Narcissa returned her son's smile, thanking him with a quick pat on his hand. She turned towards the witch sitting across from Draco. "Hermione, dear, would you mind clearing the table?" She gestured towards the empty platters scattered all over the table.

Silence curtained the room as everyone stopped their casual banter and turned to look at the two women.

Hermione could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, not from the fine wine they'd been drinking all night, but rather from the sudden and unneeded attention from the guests. She stared at Narcissa, her eyes widened in confusion.

Lucius chuckled, and heads turned towards him. Hermione's as well. "Yes, well, why else would you be here, Granger?" Her surname rolled off his tongue in disgust. "Did you think you were invited here as a guest?" The senior Malfoy tsked, "As a muggleborn, you should be accustomed to remedial housework."

"It's been a year since we've announced our engagement," she finally turned to Draco. "And every time, they find new ways to degrade, demean, and shame me -all because of who my parents are." Tears stained her powdered cheeks. "This one really takes the cake."

Silence.

"Why didn't you stand up for me?"

"What does it matter what my parents say?" Draco whispered as his throat tensed. He hated seeing her in this state. There was always a fight whenever they came back from the manor, but this time, his parents really did push it too far.

The Malfoys hosted a dinner for London's pureblood socialites. 'For charity,' they said, but Draco knew better. He knew his parents loved being showered in compliments and loved to show off new riches they acquired through their travels. 'For the veterans still recovering from the War,' they said. His father even went through the trouble of inviting Kingsley Shacklebot and notable journalists. 'They must know the good we're doing to make up for the cost of the War,' they said.

"'Malfoy Marries a Maid'- I can see it in the headlines tomorrow," Hermione scoffed, roughly brushing away her tears.

"Who the fuck cares what everyone thinks, Hermione?" He glared at her, upset she so easily lowered her status. She was a bloody war hero. She was a third of the Golden Trio. She was the beloved Hermione Granger.

She was his queen.

"You have me, Hermione." He grabbed her hands, placing them onto his chest as his heart beated rapidly -praying, hoping it was enough for her to hear. "I love you more than the world. You are my everything, you know that." His fingers, tracing over the diamond engagement ring on her left hand, trembled. "I would get rid of my parents to spend the rest of my life for you any day."

Hermione sniffled as she hung her head, staring down at her sequined heels. "Don't lie... Your family is, also, your everything," she muttered. "...Just like my family is my everything."

After the War, Hermione left for Australia in search of her parents. She had a cure for the Obliviate she casted on them. But...it didn't work. It didn't work. It... it made matters worse. She tried so hard. God, she spent years trying to figure out how to fix it all. How to tidy up the mess she made, but the spell backfired. They started to lose more of their memories. She didn't understand. How was it the smartest witch of her generation couldn't figure it out? What did she do wrong?

Time withered away, and, eventually, even the forged memories of the Wilkins vanished. Hermione lost her parents forever. They were just shells of who they once were -skeletons of Mister and Missus Granger.

"Don't think for a second I know you wouldn't give up your family for me, Draco." She flattened her hand on his chest. His heart pounded violently. "But I couldn't live with myself if you were to make a sacrifice that big. The guilt, itself, would kill me. You have a family, Draco. Cherish what you have, because you can only have one of them, regardless of how flawed they are."

Hermione stared at the engagement ring. It was beautiful. A Moussaieff Red Diamond, one of the most expensive rocks in the world, sat on her ring finger.

"I'm only so strong, Draco, and each day, I'm being whittled down to nothing." She shook her head, "I don't want to break up your family, Draco, but I can't fathom living with in-laws who will loathe me until the day I die."

He looked at his bride-to-be, confusion written all over his face. "What are you saying, Hermione?"

She, shakily, withdrew her hand. The silence between them screamed loudly in their ears. What were mere seconds, felt as if it moved in slow motion, lasting eternity. "I'm sorry," she choked. Her right pointer and thumb grasped the ring on her left hand and carefully slipped it off.

"I don't... I don't have my family anymore." Hermione's voice strained as she used up the last of her courage. "Please," she handed the ring to him. "I know you'll find another whom you'll give the world to, just as you, once, gave the world to me. And she'll be loved. She'll be adored by your mother and father."

When Draco didn't accept the ring, she grasped his trembling hand, placing it in the palm of his hand.

"But that woman isn't me."

"C'mon, Hermione! It's been three years, two months-"

"-And eighteen days, I know! ...I know." She interrupted a particular redhead friend of hers. She took a sip of drink, bourbon, and continued to mutter, "You don't need to remind me..."

Hermione, along with Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood, were out at an up-and-coming nightclub, Bond, spending some quality girl time together. With Ginny, who was on a break between Quidditch seasons, and Luna, returning for a few weeks from her exciting job as a naturalist, the girls hadn't much of an opportunity to hang out. Hermione was the only one who ended up staying and finding a job in London after they graduated from Hogwarts.

"If you're finding your love life in a bit of a dry spell," Luna started, "you might want to check under your bed for weetimorousbeastie." She glanced up, her blue eyes floating between Ginny and Hermione as they stared at her, confused. "My father used to tell me they were these crafty little beasts that have the power to steal one's sex drive."

The brunette blanched; her eyebrows raised so high up, they nearly touched her hairline. "You and your father talk about one another's sex drive?" She shouted over the booming music, drawing some odd looks from strangers.

The blonde gave them an airy smile. "Why, yes. Is it not normal?"

Ginny looked over to Hermione, then back to Luna. Both women answering 'no' at the same time.

It was nice hanging out with her friends again. Honestly, it'd been too long, and Hermione was starting to feel a little lonely. Most of her days were spent working at the Ministry as an Obliviator, and her weekends were filled with researching on how to restore botched memories. An obsession she hadn't let up in over nine years.

She would never admit it out loud, but Ginny's idea of going to a nightclub was rather brilliant. It was a definite change of pace from her usually quiet evenings. Though she would never complain over a good book and some hot tea.

"Hermione, what about him?" The Quidditch player nudged her arm, snapping her out of her thoughts. Ginny jutted her chin towards the left, towards a tall man who resembled a bit too much like her best friend.

Hermione laughed, pushing Ginny back. "No! Are you crazy? He looks too much like Harry." She covered her mouth as she continued to laugh. "Don't push your ideals onto me! You go talk to him if you think he's so attractive."

The redhead grinned, "But I'm already married." She waggled her right hand, showing off her wedding ring. "Plus, we're here for you! You need to get back into the dating game otherwise the weedle-whatchamacallit-"

"-Weetimorousbeastie." Luna interjected as she bit into the lemon wedge.

"-Right, otherwise it's going to suck all the love juices right out of you!" They laughed.

Hermione scrunched her face at Ginny as she tried not to giggle. "Oh, please- tell me you don't actually buy that."

They each sat on a stool, around a bar table, watching the younger witches and wizards gyrate their bodies to the music. The environment was dim; flashing lights hanging from the ceiling strobed on and off, changing colors each time. The crowd's movements seemed almost hypnotic as everyone continued dance to the unce, unce, unce of the thundering bass.

"Hmm...It looks like Theodore Nott showed up tonight," Luna piped up, her attention drawn towards the entrance as a group stepped in.

Hermione, leaning forward on the table, sat up straight. She turned to look at the cluster of people, stretching her neck as far as possible as she tried to make out their faces. Her hands tightly gripped the edge of the table. Her heart started pounding, pounding faster than the beat of the music as she searched for a familiar face.

"He isn't here," Ginny whispered solemnly, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder. "We would all recognize him if he were."

She was right.

He wouldn't be here.

Why was she even bothering? It'd been three years, two months, and eighteen days since she'd last saw him. Why, of all places, would it be here?

Hermione slumped back onto her stool, a sigh escaping her lips, her mood changing. Luna hopped off her stool, adjusting her baby blue dress and making her way towards the bar. Hermione didn't pay attention, though. She, instead, silently berated herself for being so stupid to think she'd see him tonight. He was always known for going out and having a good time with friends; seeing a mass of Slytherins just got her hopes up. There's no reason to see him anyway. Three years, two months, and eighteen days.

"I get it, Hermione," Ginny leaned against the witch, resting her head on her friend's shoulder. She found Hermione's hand and laced her fingers around hers, grasping her hand tightly in reassurance. "Take your time. We'll always be here for you."

Luna came back shortly, carrying a tray of neon-colored shots. "The bartender gave these to me for free." She, once again, gave her two friends that mysterious smile.

"What?" Ginny shouted, excitement exuding from her body. "How did you manage that, Luna?"

The petite blond shrugged, "I told Jez, the bartender, her complexion reminded me of the moon frogs." Again, she went with her imaginary creatures, "That they were beautiful creatures native to the moon, their skins glow vibrantly every night, bringing joy to those who can see them."

"Oh!" Hermione's mood lifted, as she reached for a glass. "It's odd that you have such a way with your words. Perhaps you have a crush now." She smiled, lifting the miniature cup into the air.

Luna looked around, "Who?"

The other two laughed at Luna's innocence, and cheered her friend on for fetching them a tray of free drinks. Hermione shot her drink; the liquid flowed down her throat, fizzy and sweet. A warmth spread through her body, allowing her to forget, even if for just a moment, the memory of Draco.

One by one, shots after shots, they pulled from the free alcohol. Forgetting was good. Plus, Ginny gathered some liquid courage and sauntered over towards the Harry Potter lookalike, deciding to strike up some harmless conversation. "You're married!" Hermione reminded her before she disappeared into the crowd. Not that Ginny needed any reminding, the woman loved Harry dearly, but she was going to enjoy herself, for the sake of girls' night.

Silence sat between Hermione and Luna. The airy blonde was never much for words, but Hermione grew comfortable with it through the years. Her presence was just enough. The witch smiled to herself, closing her eyes, letting the music fill her ears as she swayed to the sensual beat of the music:

...I want you for so long, tell me is it so wrong? Even if we fall in love? Fall in love...

"It's been a while."

A deep voice, with a slight hint of Italian, sounded behind Hermione sending a shiver down her spine. She remembered his voice all too well. Oh, she remembered gushing over his Italian-blend accent the first time she heard it when they were still children.

She turned around, her chestnut brown eyes locking onto his darker ones. A smug grin on his face. "Zabini?" Hermione sounded more surprised than she should have.

"May I?" He gestured towards the empty seat Ginny sat in earlier.

She nodded then turned towards Luna wide-eyed, unsure how to proceed. The blonde shrugged as she continued sipping her spiked iced tea, her attention bouncing from one thing to another, perhaps procuring a new imaginary creature. While Hermione was cordial with the wizard, he was always Draco's friend. Her heart began pounding once again; her mind raced from Draco to Zabi-

"...can call me Blaise. There's no need to be so formal." He set his drink on the table: bourbon.

"Right, Blaise." Hermione gave him a shy smile, feeling out of place, though he was the one who joined the table. Her eyes glazed over his features; the years have certainly been kind to him. The strobe lights bounced off his tanned olive skin, temporarily painting him, as if he was a living artwork. And for a moment, he truly resembled an Adonis -the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome.

Oh, Merlin's beard, maybe it was time to stop drinking if she was going to consider her ex's friend attractive.

Though she dated Draco for several years, hanging out with Slytherins was never an easy job. Their way of life, their interaction towards each other -or even towards outsiders was a world of difference in comparison to her and her possé. But out of everyone in Draco's group, Blaise was the one she got on with through the years. While they never interacted with each other outside the group, she always appreciated his presence. To just have someone there who didn't act like a smug supremacist, to just have someone remotely normal, albeit a tad quiet -sitting in the back, listening intently, absorbing every bit of information given, was a breath of relief.

And he was here tonight, sitting here, next to her. Silent and mysterious as usual. And her heart skipped. Perhaps he wanted to catch up. It had been a while -over three and a half years? She never really bothered counting for those who were only labeled as an acquaintance.

Realizing she was, suddenly, the third wheel, Luna spoke up. "I'm going to go... to the bar..." But it seemed neither of them noticed.

The two of them stared at each other in silence as the music continued to pulse in the background.

And the night got me thinkin', thinkin' about lying in bed in the dark in the warm and we're naked...

"What brings you out here, tonight?" He was the first to break the ice, picking his glass back up and swishing the alcohol around, his eyes never leaving hers.

As if it was a game they were playing, and Hermione was the loser, breaking eye contact.

She could still feel his eyes on her, burning deep through her. It made her nervous. She felt naked. "It's girls' night. Though," Hermione lifted her head, looking around, giving her an excuse to look anywhere but at him. Ginny was nowhere to be seen, perhaps melded in with the crowd of dancers, and Luna -wait, when did she go to the bar? "Though neither of them are spending girl time with me." She gave him a defeated chuckle. "What about you, Blaise? What are you doing here?"

"I'm always here." He leaned forward, propping an elbow on the table, his glass still pinched between his slender fingers. His focus never left the witch. Why did she feel so nervous? "It's why I noticed you."

"Is that so?" She kept her face turned away from Blaise. Hermione couldn't look at him without having to take a breather every few seconds. It was hot. It was stifling. When did the club get so warm? She needed a fan or, or something. She squirmed in her seat, chewing on her lower lip.

"Well, it's hard to not notice the most beautiful woman in the room tonight." He leaned in, a hand suddenly brushing against her flushed cheeks as he tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Your hair's nice." Oh-he noticed. She spent hours applying anti-frizz to her hair that, for once, it was silky smooth and straight.

A blush crept up her pale skin, crawling from the base of her neck and settling onto her cheeks as she absorbed the compliment. Was Blaise always so smooth with his words? It was honey to her ears. Maybe it was the sexy Italian accent. Was this what girls' night was supposed to be? Go separate ways and hit on boys or, perhaps in Luna's case, girls? Was this why Ginny insisted on Hermione dressing in this uncomfortable piece of fabric she called a dress? She, unconsciously, readjusted her dress.

"Dance with me, Granger." His hands found hers as they rested on the table. Her heart skipped several beats, the heavy bass filling in. His thumb caressed the web of her hand, silently encouraging her to accept his request. "It'll be fun," he whispered, leaning in close. His breath smelled of bourbon and mint. Her chest tingled at his words, and warmth coursed through her body. It was the alcohol.

"Okay," she whispered, a faint smile written across her face.

And like the gentlemen he was raised to be, Blaise stepped off his stool, lacing his fingers with hers, holding on tightly as if she would turn away and leave. He led her towards the dance floor, finding room in the middle of the mass. He directed her, draping her arms across his shoulders as he placed his on her hips, pulling her close to him. Hermione laughed under her breath, unsure whether it was the alcohol taking effect or just her nervousness being on the dancefloor.

Before tonight, the closest she had ever gotten to Blaise was a handshake, and now, here she was caught in his web, their bodies swaying slowly to the sensual music.

When you let me in, you better know that I got you, under my skin, ooh, you got me restless...

How long had it been since she last danced? Too long. She didn't want to count anymore. Not tonight. Blaise whispered words of encouragement as they continued to move to the beat. Hermione closed her eyes, resting her forehead against his chest. She felt his heart beat, or was it the bass thumping? Either way, it felt nice. And he smelled of...parchment. Ooh, she inhaled deeply as her knees quivered. The smell of ink and books always excited her. How perfect was this? "Did you just get off work?"

The Italian man arched a brow, looking down at the witch, confused. Here they were, dancing sweetly to Barcelona when she asked, out of nowhere, about his job. Was she not enjoying her time with him?

"You smell like books and ink." She shrugged innocently.

He chuckled; his laughter vibrated through his torso. "No, but I was reading before Nott dragged me here."

It must have been the alcohol. It was her liquid courage as she mentioned she enjoyed the smell of old books. Her dance partner merely returned her comment with a smile, his hand brushing against her cheeks, his thumb lightly brushing over her lower lip. Oh.

"Good," was all he said.

She didn't plan for his embrace to be so warm, so inviting, so comfortable. It was the alcohol, she told herself. But it felt so good. Hermione lost track of how many songs passed, but regardless of the beat of the music, the two of them remained close, chest pressed against another, hips rolling against each other's. Sweat rolled off their skin as their breathing grew heavier. They melted into the music, completely losing sense of everyone around them.

Hermione grasped at his shirt, bundling his fabric in her fist as his hands began to traveled along her curves. Waves of electric pulses moved through her body, like fire leaving a trail in its wake. He started from her hips, gradually trailing up under her breasts, his thumbs tracing an outline along her ribs. She sucked in a breath; her senses heightened. Merlin, his hands felt so amazing. It seemed once he'd memorized her body, his hand would travel to a different area: to her collarbone, her jaw, her lips, and back down to her waist and hips, to the small of her back. His hands finally stopped at her neck, his thumb caressing the sides of her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

It was liquid courage, she kept reminding herself; it was controlling her. He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. His heavy breathing, in sync with hers, was music to her ears. With his thumb, he grazed her ruby lips once more, and as they continued to stare into each other's eyes, pupils dilated from sheer ecstasy, she parted her lips, dipping it into her mouth.

Blaise clenched his jaws, for once, the smile leaving his perfect complexion. For a moment, he hesitated, questioning his motives but surrendered to his desires. He grabbed her arms as he, desperately, tried to hold her closer against him. "Say something now..." he warned her, their lips nearly colliding, "say something, and I'll stop."

She hitched a breath, frozen as she searched for something in his eyes -something to tell her otherwise. No... No, she wanted this.

He thanked the heavens above as his lips came crashing down on hers, kissing her with fervor. His hand snaked up her neck, feeding themselves into her hair with tightened knuckles; the other one wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly against his firm body. Hermione moaned into his lips, her knees weakened at his intensity.

What felt like eternity, lasted for mere minutes before they broke away, lips forced apart. Her hands on his chest, she pushed him away as her elbows locked together. They, each, panted heavily, staring with hooded eyelids. "Merlin..." he said, finally breaking the tension between them. "You're so beautiful." He cupped her face once more, a content smile sat on his face. She leaned into his touch; it...it felt...right.

The music faded to a stop, and the lights slowly brightened, signalling the night's end. It was time for the Bond to close. The once dancing crowd surrounding them jeered in response, but soon scattered as everyone went off to find their friends or go home. Hermione wasn't ready to leave yet. Couldn't they play just one more song? Hermione slid her hand along his arm; his touch encaptivating.

"Hermione! There you are!" Ginny's voice snapped her friend out of her trance as she tore away from Blaise's focus. Both their arms dropped down to their side as the redhead approached the couple, followed by Luna. "We've been looking...for...you..." Her words slowed, as those hazel eyes bouncing between Blaise and Hermione and their dishevelment. A light bulb suddenly switched on. "Ah..." A grin crept onto her face as she realized what had happened earlier.

"Oh, hello," Luna greeted Blaise, then turned to Hermione, "we were just looking for you."

"Yes, Luna, I've already said that." Ginny responded, almost too quickly. "I think we should leave." She grabbed the blonde's arm, turning away.

"Oh-" She didn't even get the opportunity to respond as Hermione watched her two friends briskly walk away, whispering amongst each other. They stole glances back towards the brunette, smirking and giggling. Ginny even flashed a thumbs up.

Real subtle, Ginny. She placed her hands on her hips, pursing her lips as she watched them exit the nightclub before remembering the man standing behind her. Hermione turned around, her personality switching from the confident woman she once was to an almost giddy school girl.

"Nightcap?" He looked at her; his lips quirked, showing off his white teeth.

She agreed to his suggestion- a drink before turning in for the evening. An opportunity to actually catch up on lost times, she told herself. But what was just one drink turned into two, then three. And before they realized it, they were stumbling into his apartment, lips never ripping apart. Hermione didn't know what to think anymore, whether it was her natural attraction towards the Italian man or if it was the alcohol doing all the work for her. Maybe a little both...

His calloused hands trailed from her slim shoulders, smoothing over her trembling arms, and his fingers entangled in hers, grasping them possessively for the briefest of moments before he gripped her hips, pulling roughly her back against him. Oh.

He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling as if it was his last breath of air. Gods, she was intoxicating; she was so mouthwatering sweet- an aphrodisiac designed just for him. His fingers dug into her clothed skin as he found himself in swimming in bliss. Aah...fuck. She moaned at the exchange, her chest rising and falling quickly.

Blaise opened his eyes, not realizing he closed them. What had she done to him? He turned her around and groaned inwardly at her sight -her flushed skin, her parted lips, her messy hair. Fuck. She was more beautiful than how he remembered her. An angel standing before him. A perfect being.

Her hand rose -her turn to memorize his body. She moved towards him, her fingers walked along the length of his neck, her manicured nails scratching his skin, eliciting a groan from him. A light shove against his chest. Shit. He swallowed hard as he stumbled backwards, falling back onto the couch, tight and rigid, craving everything from her.

And she stood before him, staring down at the man through hooded eyelids. She leaned forward, propping one knee onto the cushioned pillow, the other one followed soon after, and Hermione cradled his lap; his erection invasive. She moaned, biting her lower lip as she rocked against his tent. Fuck. Her hands gripped his shoulders, as her head fell backwards, eyes closing as her hips continued to roll against his girth.

She pulled her body towards him, pressing her forehead onto his, emulating his earlier actions and dipped her head, planting painfully gentle kisses onto him. Blaise gripped the sides of her head, pressing against her mouth desperately, wanting -needing more. Their mouths parted as their intensity grew-teeth, tongue, and lips meshing as they fought for dominance. Oh...

"Fuck..." Blaise shuddered, his voice trembling as he pulled away to take a breather. His hands slid down her shoulders, her skin damp from their heated exchange. He continued to move his hands down the curves of her waist, those wide, circling hips- slithered down her smooth thighs. His gaze never left hers as she slowed her ministrations; his heart beat wildly. She raised her brows as his hands slipped under her dress, egging him on. I dare you... her eyes read. Slowly, they crawled, pushing the fabric back, revealing her hips as he realized she wore no undergarments. He hissed as he grasped her arse, digging his fingers into her voluptuous mound. Shit.

With newly discovered strength, he pushed himself up from the couch, still holding onto the witch as she squealed, surprised. He needed her. He had to have her, now. His hand stayed on her delicious bum as she snaked her legs around his waist, holding on tightly, her chest pressed against his.

He found her mouth once more, sucking desperately at her bottom lip as he near sprinted to his bedroom. A moment longer and he'd be fucking her in the hallway. Oh. But she deserved more. She deserved everything. He kicked open the door, entering the dark room, and dropped the beautiful brunette onto the bed below her. She gasped, eyes wide, at the drop as her body bounced against the springy mattress. Moonlight was their only source of light; its soft glow making the witch so much more heavenly. He fell on top of her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, roughly suckling on her skin. He made sure to leave his mark on her -a reminder to her this was all real when morning came. His teeth scored along her riveting skin, consuming her until she mewled, grasping at his hair. And even then, he continued to ravish the woman, determined to find her every erogenous spot.

As he showered her with kisses, he pushed the dress away, pulled it off her delectable body and tossed it across the room. Out of sight, out of mind. Merlin, her petite breasts almost sent him over the edge. Oh, he'd wanted this for so long. This witch, this conquest, his. He cupped her breasts, each globe easily fitting in his hands -but they were the perfect size. So supple. So pert. He kissed each breast lingeringly, licking and flicking her nipple with his tongue. The other was attended by his hand, pinched and pulled gently as her sensitive bust. Oh.

"Ahh!" She moaned quite suddenly, her body tensing as she felt herself reaching her peak. Her eyes fluttered, unexpected.

He hummed against her flesh, "Mmm...god..." His hand roamed down her stomach and slipped it between her thighs, fingers running along the length of her slit, pushing against her wet folds. He groaned, unaware just how ready she was. Fuck. He played with her clit, his middle finger drawing small circles on the sensitive bud, eliciting the tiniest of moans from the her as she involuntarily bucking her hips against his massage.

She pulled him into a kiss, moaning between each breath, and as their mouths continued to crash against each other, he pushed a finger inside her, pushing and pulling against her tight walls. They moaned against each other's kisses. His skilled thumb worked on her clit as he inserted another finger inside her. He tore away from her kisses, panting and staring down at his work. She was so wet and so fucking tight. Shit. He moved his fingers in and out, increasing their speed. "Ooh...!" She grabbed onto his arm, nails digging into his skin, as she rocked against his movements, adding friction, adding rhythm. Her breath hitched in small gasps. Her walls tightened, clamping down on his fingers as she squeezed her trembling thighs, claiming his hand as prisoner. Blaise groaned; could this woman be any sexier?

A moan left her lips as Blaise pulled his hand out as she came down from her high. His fingers remained curled as he earned a quiet whimper from the witch. Her body shuddered, sensitive. He brought his two fingers to his lips, focusing his eyes onto hers as he dipped them in, his tongue lapping at the delicious coating. Fuck. His eyes fluttered shut. Even her juices were intoxicating, a hint of honey, and he was already obsessed.

Too focused on her taste, he missed the woman playing with the belt of his pants. It wasn't until he felt the jerk of his belt being ripped off did Blaise realize Hermione was taking it to the next step. His eyes snapped open, staring down as she worked on the button and zipper. Her fingers shook as they ran along the waistline; her eyes gazing towards his, her pupils blown as she waited for his permission. He swallowed and nodded. His heart pounded.

Her fingers curled, wrapping around the fabric of his pants as she took her sweet time removing it. But Merlin was it so sexy. Her eyes were now fixed on what was to come next. Her mouth parted as she licked her lips, the tip running along her cupid's bow, like a child waiting for her lollipop.

There it was -a gasp as she finally freed his cock from its restraint. It greeted her with a spring and a bounce. A smirk danced across his lips as she continued to stare; her hand reaching over, gently grasping his cock and slid along his length. Fuck. She barely touched him, and he was already at the edge. Control yourself, he reminded as her hands continued to caress his prick. She moved them sensually from the base to the tip, using his dripping precum as lubricant for smoother movement along his cock. Merlin, she was talented. Fuck, she was so good with her hands. He hung his head back, closing his eyes as he focused on her movements. Oh...

"Sh-Grang-Shit-" He stared down, brows stitched together and his mouth opened in an 'o' as he watched the witch press her lips against the tip of his cock. She pursed her lips together, pushing against throbbing member, her tongue roughly pressed against the sensitive flesh, and a guttural growl vibrated deep in his chest as she pushed on. Fuck. Her mouth was so warm, so wet, so inviting. She bobbed her head, sliding his cock in and out, each time taking in more of him, each time adjusting herself to fit his girth, his length.

"Fuck-" He grabbed her hair, holding her steady as he pushed himself further into her mouth. Her throat tightening as his cock penetrated further, and she groaned, grabbing onto his thighs for further support. The sound of her grunts vibrated against his cock, stiffening it more. Fuck, how was it even possible? The tip of her nose brushed against his pelvic muscles as her lips finally touched the base of his cock. Her throat contracted around the tip, squeezing him, milking him -fuck it was so painfully sweet.

He released his grip as she pulled away with a pop of his cock. The cool air lapping at his prick and sending a different kind of shudder through his body. He needed her warmth. He needed to be in her. His hand found their way to her pretty face, fingertips caressing her cheeks, smoothing over her swollen lips, and finally pinching her chin as he shoved her back onto the bed. With his free hand, he stroked his cock that wept for her touch.

Her eyes, filled with lust, beckoned him as she pulled her knees up, spreading her legs -just for him. Fuck. With a clenched jaw and determination, he pulled off his shirt, discarded and forgotten. Those hypnotising russet brown orbs drank in his flawless form: from his pectoral muscles to his defined abs and further down towards his astonishingly cut muscles over his pelvic bones that dipped into a perfect V below his abdomen, trailing down to his delicious cock.

A leg extended, her foot grazed against his hips as they wound against him, resting against his backside. She lured him further. The witch. Did she know what she was doing to him? His hand caressed the same leg, up her thighs, onto her arse. Merlin, her bum was so perfect. His fingers sunk in as he yanked her forward, and earned a gasp as she almost slammed against him. His cock, aching for her pussy, pressed against her clit.

"Please..." she whispered, begging as she lifted her hips in an attempt to roll against him. Her hand found his cock, stroking it up and down in a twisting motion, positioning him against her dripping folds. Blaise groaned at her touch, his fingers wrapping around her tiny wrist. No-he wouldn't lose control. Not yet.

He pressed his thumb against her clit as she begged over and over, begging for the cock that continued to tease her aching pussy, begging for him to fill her. "Fuck me, please!" was the last straw before he finally pressed the head of his cock against her slick opening and slamming into her. "Ooh...yes!" Her words melted to a loud moan as his hips thrust against hers and one hand move between them, rubbing her clit once more.

"Fuck-" He shuddered as her walls clamped down around him, trapping him. She was so tight. The thought of taking their session slow and steady went out the window as he continued to pump in and out, each time sheathing his cock entirely. Blaise rolled his hips, relishing in what he believed to be Heaven. His heavy breathing and their sounds of their hips against each other filled the room, but it was her moans that fueled his desire for her.

He thrust into her at a set rhythm as he lifted her hips into an angle, finding her soft spot with each movement. Fuck, she was so wet -practically dripping for him as they continued to make a mess on his bed. "Faster," she demanded, rocking her hips into his with fervor, harder each time as she tried to find that sweet, sweet release. She was close. And by the look on his face -the creases between his brows, his clenched jaws, and desperation in his eyes, he was close to finishing, too. He followed her demands, leaning into his thrusts, speeding up his pace once more as his pelvic muscles rubbed against her clit.

Nails scratched at his back, but he savored the pain as they were sure to leave a mark in the morning -a sign this wasn't all a dream. "Come for me," he whispered into her ear, his teeth biting into her earlobe gently. Just the right amount. Fuck...

She groaned with every push and pull of his cock, as the friction on her sensitive clit continued. "Oh, fuck-" She whimpered as her walls clamped onto his shaft while he fucked her relentlessly. Her head spun, and dark spots dotted her blurred vision as Hermione spiraled towards the edge and into an explosive orgasm. She gripped onto his arm, her body seizing and tensing as wave after wave of electric jolts passed through her entirety-from the tip of her fingers to the curl of her toes.

Blaise bit his lip, watching the beautiful woman writhe under him, coming undone, and followed suit. He continued to thrust into her as his cock pulsed and twitched, unloading his hot cum into her magnificent pussy. She squirmed, a content smile drawn on her swollen lips, revelled the feeling of him inside her.

The darkness of the evening long since disappeared and was replaced with a warm glow of dawn as the sun peaked through the horizon, peeking into Blaise's bedroom -illuminating the two bodies as they continued to move in sync. Sweat rolled and glistened off their body; the bed sheet stained with their sex. She rocked against his hips as she cradled his lap, her hands cupping his face, possessively as they continued to share passionate kisses. His hands rested on her beautifully, round arse, kneading and, occasionally, slapping her cheeks.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

She furrowed her brows at the intruding sound pulling her out of her daze. Blaise leaned his head back against the wall as their make-out session ended, peering at the enchantress through heavy eyelids.

Hermione pulled away as the buzzing continued. It was her wand, she suddenly remembered. Her eyes scanning the room and for the first time she really noticed what his home looked was like. His bedroom was clean and near empty, save for the bed, a desk, and a closet. A single decore hung from the walls -a Slytherin banner. Their clothes were the only things out of place as they were scattered all over the floor.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

It bothered her. Where was the damned wand?

She peeled herself from Blaise. He groaned at her absence, and his hand found their way onto his cock, stroking, as he stayed ready for her. Hermione lied flat on the mattress as she dipped her head, hanging over the edge and looked underneath the bed. Ah. She reached for the device as the numbers six and thirty flashed bright blue. Shit. She needed to go home and get ready for work. Oh, she was going to get nothing done today as she realized exhaustion hit her with full force. Hermione grunted, stretching her arms as she shifted her weight. The tip of her fingers barely touched the wand when she felt Blaise's skin press against hers. "Oh!" She gasped, arching her back as she turned to look at the man.

A mischievous smirk flitted across his lips for a moment before he slipped his cock into her sensitive core. "Mmm, fuck..." She groaned, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as the thought getting ready for work slipped from her mind. He gripped at her ass, absolutely enthralled as his fingers sunk into her flesh. His hips rolled as he fucked her slowly, savoring her tight pussy. "Blaise..." she groaned, as the wand buzzed, yet again.

"Mmm?" He leaned into her, kissing her shoulders, running his tongue down her skin, sending shivers down her spine as her walls fastened down on his cock.

Regrettably, she muttered, "I have to go work..." though her actions proved to him otherwise. He nipped at her neck as he quickened his pace, fucking her with vigor as she squirmed beneath him moaning and shouting unintelligible words. "Mmfuck-Merlin, yes!" She bit down onto the edge of the mattress as she quivered, her pussy seizing as she achieved orgasm. How many times did this man send her over the edge? She lost count after four.

"I can't-" he grunted, "believe you're still so tight-" Blaise groaned as he unloaded into her, finally, truly, spent. He leaned into her, resting his chest against her back. An arm dangled next to hers as the other scooped her hair to the side, kissing the back of her neck. "So beautiful..." He muttered, staying still for a moment longer before he rolled off her and pulled out her wand from under the bed. "Looking for this?"

She smiled, taking the wand from him but he quickly pulled it away, teasing. "Blaise!" She near tackled the man as she tried to reach for it, but his arm was much longer than hers. He wrapped one around her waist, pulling her on top of him, planting a gentle kiss onto her lips before returning her treasured wand. "Thank you," she muttered between each peck. 6:50 was now flashing in her face; the alarm blaring.

A groan. Couldn't she just...skip? And spent the day with the sexy Italian Adonis? Hermione hopped off the bed and proceed to collapse onto the floor. Her knees were weakened from their fuck session, and it hadn't dawned on her until now. A laugh escaped her lips as she looked over her shoulders towards the man still lounging on his bed, watching the clumsy witch.

"You could just stay here."

"Tempting," she pushed herself up, her knees buckling as if she was a newborn fawn just learning to walk for the first time. "But I must go." Hermione picked up her dress, the only thing she wore last night, and slipped it on with ease. "I had fun."

Blaise sat up, frowning as his brows creased. "Granger-"

"Hm?" She turned to him as she adjusted herself.

"This... I don't want this to just be one night." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed her hand, and with ease, pulled her into him once more. "I...I want to keep seeing you."

Her heart pounded for the nth time since she reacquainted herself with Blaise at Bond. Why was it her heart kept aching at his words? Why was she getting nervous -after an entire evening of frolicking in bed? She swallowed and opened her mouth to say, something, but nothing would come out. He noticed her hesitancy.

"I-God, I've had my eyes on you for so long," he admitted, looking down at her hands as he caressed them with his thumb. "I wanted you before Draco. I wanted you since we were fourteen. You've... you've always been so brave, so headstrong, so beautiful -even more beautiful now." His eyes found hers once more. "I've waited so long."

Merlin, what was he saying? For over ten years, he'd waited?

"And I've waited for Draco to move on," Blaise clenched his jaws and her heart bled at the mention at his name. "You know he's been dating Astoria Greengrass- things... have been pretty serious for some time. I can help you... help you learn to love again."

His voice had grown soft during his speech. Blaise was never a man of many words, but God, was he so determined.

"Give me a chance. I'll make you fall in love with me."