A/N – Hello dear readers, just a forewarning, this story is heavy on the smut (still with plot) but if you do not like reading descriptions of physical relationships then you may want to pass on this story as it is an integral part of the plot. Or you can read the first half and then scroll to the end, up to you.

This is technically a oneshot but I do have a second chapter sketched out if there is interest in reading it. I would love to hear your thoughts Happy early Valentine's day!

Dear Hermione,

I've recently found myself reminiscing about school and realised that it has been far too long since I have seen my old Gryffindor dormmate. I'm sure you are busy but if you can find a free afternoon then I would love to catch up. Would you be willing to meet me at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch this Tuesday at noon? It would be lovely to hear about what you have been up to since Hogwarts.

Sincerely,

Parvati Patil

After rereading the message, Hermione Granger carefully folded the note before returning it to her handbag. Her eyes caught on the ticking hand of the clock in the corner of the room; it was five minutes to noon and Parvati should arrive any moment. Hermione had been surprised when the invitation arrived at her desk mixed in with her Ministry mail. It had been years since she had last seen Parvati; their last interaction had been at the anniersary of the Battle of Hogwarts, a somber occasion to remember and mourn the lives lost and changed from the battle.

The newest owner of the Leaky Cauldron, Hannah Abbott, stepped out from behind the bar to embrace Hermione. Hannah had made the bar her own; once dingy and shabby, the Leaky Cauldron was rejuvenated under her management. These days, it was a thriving bar filled with laughter and good conversation—bordering on overcrowded most days. Hermione was thrilled to see her old friend create success in her business.

"Oh, Hermione! I didn't know you were coming in today," Hannah greeted her with a quick kiss on each cheek.

"I wasn't planning on it, actually, but I'm meeting Parvati Patil today for lunch." She replied, glancing at the empty doorway. "It was a bit of a last minute invitation."

"In that case, let me set the two of you up in the parlour, it'll give you more privacy. I can't believe how busy it has been lately!" Hannah exclaimed, directing Hermione to a room off the main pub floor. It was a cozy room, lined with pale yellow wallpaper with printed white flowers; in the middle of the room was a small round table and two simple place settings.

"I'll get you some steak and kidney pies and butterbeer—on the house—it's so nice to see you! I have to get back to the lunch rush, but we must meet up soon," Hannah bustled out of the room before Hermione had the chance to thank her for the extra accomidations.

Fiddling with the strap on her handbag, Hermione waited in silence and hoped that Parvati would be able to find her in the back room. Several moments later, her lunch companion walked into the room with a wide smile.

"Hermione Granger, I hardly recognised you!" Parvati rushed over to Hermione just as she stood up from her seat.

Parvati ran her hands over Hermione's hair and shook her head with a grin. "You look fantastic! How did you finally tame your curls? Oh! Do you remember the time in fifth year when we tried four bottles of Sleekeazy's and still couldn't get the back to stay down? Then we turned Ginny's hair purple!"

Holding back a laugh, Hermione squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment. "It's a meticulous sequence of spells and hair potions—even then, if the weather isn't right it won't cooperate."

"Enough about that. How have you been? It's been ages," Parvati gushed as she took Hermione's hands into her own, gave a squeeze before letting go and taking a seat.

"It has, I can hardly believe it. I had lunch with the Weasleys just last month and it dawned on us that it's been five years since we left school. It feels like just last month I was nagging Harry and Ron to complete their schoolwork and now they're Senior Aurors!" Hermione pulled out her chair and joined Parvati at the small table.

Hannah reentered the room, placing two plates of steak and kidney pie with two large mugs of butterbeer onto their table. "Enjoy your lunch, you two," she winked before closing the parlour door behind her.

"I hope you like pie, Hannah insisted we try it," Hermione explained with a slight shrug, looking down at the plate of food in front of her.

"Oh, never mind the pie." Parvati waved a hand to dismissively. "Do tell me what you've been up to since school, I've hardly seen you in the gossip papers—quite a feat as they seem to document everything about Harry and Ron. I saw an article last month about the brand of gloves that Harry purchased at Quality Quidditch Supplies and the next day they were all sold out. I can only imagine what they'd do to get information on you."

Hermione felt her face heat up under the attention; she pushed her hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. "Yes, I realized after the war that we had become celebrities of a sort, and I've been staying out of the public eye as much as possible. I rent a flat in Muggle London and usually shop when it is least busy, I have a modified Disillusionment Charm that does wonders. I work at the Ministry, in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

Parvati cocked her head in curiosity, taking a bite of her pie. "What do you do there?"

"It's mostly paper-pushing at this point, but I have plans on driving new legislation for house elves, werewolves, centaurs, and so many others. You wouldn't believe the lack of legal protection available for some sentient creatures! I have a ten-year plan," Hermione insisted, raising her Butterbeer and stopping just before it reached her lips to clarify. "And I'm only a few years into it."

Parvati nodded along, pausing to dab at her lips with her serviette.

"Honestly, I'm not here to talk about me. I can't believe how we haven't run into each other in the past few years. What have you been doing for work? I know you always loved divination, are you a Professor? Or a seer?" Hermione asked, digging her fork into the pie, and taking another bite.

"I am…a procurer of sorts," Parvati stated vaguely, taking a long sip of her butterbeer.

Hermione frowned; her brow scrunched in confusion. "Do you obtain goods for your career?"

"Yes, I do. I have wealthy clientele who have particular needs or requests for which they'd need discretion. That is where I come in," she gestured noncommittally.

"Are you saying you're a black-market dealer?" Hermione asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Parvati laughed boisterously as if Hermione had told a joke. "Oh no! Nothing that I do is illegal—I mean, it is perhaps a bit grey. They don't pay me to ask questions."

Setting down her fork, Hermione looked at Parvati carefully. "Parvati, why did you ask me to meet you for lunch today?"

"You always were a clever one, weren't you?" Parvati shook her head fondly at Hermione. "I am here to offer you a trade."

"A trade?" Hermione enquired warily, "What sort of trade?"

"You don't have to look so nervous, Hermione, I'm not going to bite." Parvati chuckled to herself, her painted nails tapped against the wood of the table. "I have a buyer—extremely elusive—and he is interested in you. Specifically, he would like to obtain a strand of your hair."

Hermione instinctively reached up a hand to touch her curls.

"He has never requested my services before, and I am quite eager to secure him as a client. In exchange for your hair I am willing to offer you fifty percent of his fees, approximately 20,000 galleons."

Unable to stop the gasp that came from her mouth, Hermione raised her hand over her mouth in shock. "Someone is paying you twice the average Ministry worker's yearly salary just for a strand of my hair?!"

Parvati nodded, giving her a knowing look. "As I said, he's an extremely motivated buyer. I have been known to procure something like this using less…ethical means but considering our history I wanted to propose a deal. Your hair for half the sale."

Appalled by the offer, Hermione leaned against the back of the seat, her head spinning. "Parvati, no! I can't believe you expected me to agree to that offer. Yes, that is an insane amount of money and yes, I could always use more funding for my work projects, but I would never resort to selling myself."

"Don't be dramatic," Parvati rolled her eyes, before inspecting her nails. "It's not selling yourself. Anyone could have found a stray hair from you off the street, it's the same thing except you get paid."

"No." Hermione stood up abruptly, her chair scraped against the bottom of the floor. "Absolutely not. I'm sorry, Parvati, but who knows what they would do with my hair? I can't do this, I won't."

Parvati withdrew a card from her robe pocket. "I had assumed this would be your gut reaction, but please, do consider it." She placed the card on the table in front of Hermione with a slight smirk. "To be fair, I don't think you would mind the buyer."

After Parvati let herself out, Hermione sat for a moment in a stupor. A moment later, she inspected the card and was perplexed to see that it was blank on both sides. Drawing out her wand, she tapped it once and the address of an office appeared. She recognised the street name and location, it was just off Diagon Alley.

Hermione paced the empty parlour, growing more agitated by the minute. How dare Parvati come to her with a request like that? What kind of person had Parvati become? What kind of person did she think Hermione was? No, Hermione was not going to keep this card. In fact, it frustrated her beyond belief that Parvati would think she kept the card, as if she would actually consider this offer.

Clutching the card so tightly in her fist that she almost crushed it, she was determined to return it to Parvati and give Parvati a piece of her mind. Of all the improper propositions, she fumed, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. Retrieving a couple galleons from her handbag, she placed them in the center of the table for Hannah as a thank you for the private room and snuck out the back of the Leaky Cauldron.

Reading the address again, Hermione navigated down the alleyways of Diagon Alley, searching for Parvati's office. She stopped in front of an unmarked building which was so small, in fact, that it was nearly the size of the parlour they had just left. After a quick peek inside, she opened the door and let herself in. The office was empty, Parvati must have stopped somewhere else after their lunch.

Hermione could not resist; she began to snoop around the room for clues. "Revelio!" She gave an expectant wave of her wand, but nothing appeared. Glancing back over her shoulder, she began tapping on the floorboards and walls for a hollow space. Just below the front leg of the desk was a loose floorboard, Hermione shifted the desk over and pried it open.

It was filled with a thick container stuffed with notes; she flipped through the pile until she spotted her name. Pulling out the envelope she scanned through the document; it only had the details Parvati had mentioned in the meeting. A request for Hermione Granger's hair, payment of 40,000 galleons. The buyer's name was a code word, Typhoeus. Hermione paused on the Greek word, trying to remember where she had seen it before.

Inside the envelope was a gum wrapper, Hermione pulled it out of the envelope and inspected it closer. Suddenly, there was a familiar tugging at her navel and the room began to spin. She dropped the papers just as the Portkey swept her away.

Hermione stumbled to find her footing, ever since the Quidditch World Cup she had hated Portkeys. They always made her dizzy. Hermione bent over breathing deeply through her nose and out of her mouth. Where was she? She stood up straight, inspecting the room around her.

She was in a flat—that much was obvious. It was sizeable and minimally decorated; the entire area had dark hardwood floor, in the center was a set of white sofas with a marble coffee table between them. The wall in front of her was actually a series of floor to ceiling windows, the flat overlooked London. There was a full kitchen with matching countertop, black barstools and a variety of artwork on the walls.

Reaching her hand into the pocket of her skirt, she held her wand in preparation of a fight. No matter how many years it had been since the war, there were some habits she couldn't break. Her heart raced as she looked around for an exit. It was obvious that she had taken Parvati's Portkey which would have been used to deliver her hair. The flat looked like the home of someone who could afford to drop 40,000 Galleons on a strand of hair. The art on the walls gave no indication of who owned the flat, there were no personal pictures up.

The sound of footsteps made her jump.

"You're early," the voice drawled.

Hermione's mouth fell open as she recognized the low voice.

Typhoeus—dragon.

Whirling around, she came face to face with Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy worked at the Ministry as a consultant with Malfoy Industries. Though Hermione hadn't worked with him personally as their areas of expertise did not overlap, she saw him around the office. Now that she thought more about it, they did seem to run into each other more frequently than could be coincidental. They worked in different departments on different floors and she still saw him nearly every week.

Unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, Draco rolled up the sleeves and exposed his forearms. Hermione's eyes took him in, he was wearing a button-up with the top buttons undone and dark trousers that hugged his thighs in a delicious way. His hair was tussled from a long day of work, a hint of 5 o'clock shadow grazed his cheeks and jawline. She felt heat rise to her cheeks, was this what Draco Malfoy looked like outside of work?

"You were expecting me?" She squeaked out, her voice higher than normal; she had just been standing in his living room, gawking at him in silence.

"Not for several hours, but no matter, I just finished up for the night. A drink, perhaps? I can open a bottle of Ogden's Finest." Without waiting for her response, he gestured for her to follow him as he walked to the adjacent room.

For a moment, Hermione forgot how to move her legs, her eyes fixed on his arse as he walked away from her. Despite seeing him in passing at work, they had not spoken longer than a few polite sentences in years. Why was he so nonchalant about her standing in his flat? Perhaps he expected her to deliver her own hair to him? On that note, why did he want her hair? What possible use could he have with it?

As her mind caught up with her, she followed behind him into an office. This room had actual walls instead of windows, it was minimally decorated and clean. The only mess in the room was the desk which was cluttered with documents. Next to the desk was a large houseplant, a pair of chairs with a small table and vase of flowers. Again, Hermione noticed a lack of personal photos in the room.

Draco drew out two glass tumblers from a cabinet and poured a serving of Firewhisky into each glass. Offering a glass to Hermione—who gratefully accepted—he took a sip and she took a gulp, her face contorting at the taste as the burn trailed down her throat.

He raised his eyebrows, looking unimpressed as she coughed. "It's more of a sipping drink."

Heat compounded in her already flushed cheeks from his words. She tried to muster the courage to ask him why she was there. How does one ask a childhood enemy turned casual coworker why they want to purchase hair?

His grey eyes fell from her face to her outfit. "What are you wearing?" he asked, as if noticing her for the first time.

She rocked back onto her heels, looking down at herself with a frown. It was a typical outfit for her as she had gone from work to lunch with Parvati. This morning she had selected a green button-up blouse and grey skirt, paired with sensible grey flats.

"What's wrong with my outfit?" she asked with offense, her skirt had pockets—pockets!

"Never mind." He took another drag of Firewhisky, his eyes lingering on her skirt. "It won't matter in a few minutes."

What did that mean?

Her brain stopped working as he slowly approached her, step by step, stalking toward her like a predator in a hunt. When he was just a step away, Hermione felt dizzy and breathless as the air filled with tense anticipation. A hand reached up to her face, brushing back that stubborn piece of hair back behind her hair.

"Beautiful," he murmured softly, lifting her chin with his thumb as she looked up at him with wide eyes, words lost in her throat.

Parvati's comment drifted back into her mind, 'to be fair, I don't think you would mind the buyer' Hermione's breath caught under his gaze. She thought back to those nights in her four-poster bed, curtains drawn; the soft pants as her hand teased under her knickers, imagining Malfoy's fingers instead of her own.

"You think…you think I'm beautiful?" the words escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

Heated eyes traced her face before he cocked his head at her question. "Yes. Always."

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, her mouth felt dry as she wondered if he would kiss her—or if she would kiss him. He was so close. If she just leaned forward their lips would touch.

Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she watched his eyes catch on her lips.

"Oh Granger," his voice was gravelly and rumbled in his chest. "What am I going to do with you when you look like that?"

She swallowed.

Brushing his thumb across her jawline, she shivered from his touch as he tilted her head up to him. Hermione opened her mouth to say something—anything—but the words died in her chest as he captured her lips with his. His lips were soft and firm against hers, igniting a fire inside her. He tasted like Firewhisky and desire, and Hermione wanted to drown in him.

Leaning into the kiss, she lost herself as he expertly parted her lips with his tongue, deepening the kiss and worshiping her lips. Exhaling a shaky breath, she slipped her hands in his hair and tugged, pulling him flush against her.

It had been so long; she was not one for one-night stands and she had not gone past a first date in over a year. His strong hands grasped her waist for a beat before they slipped under her blouse, his touch burned her skin and left her wanting more.

"Do you feel how much I need you?" he murmured into her neck, pressing his thick bulge against her stomach as he trailed kisses from her neck to her collarbone, sucking and biting at the heated flesh.

She heard a hum of confirmation and it took a moment to recognise it came from her.

"And you, Granger, do you want me?" He asked, his hand drifting down under the elastic of her skirt and knickers, firmly squeezing her arse. She whimpered, bucking her hips against him in response. Tilting his head back, he let out a low sound of approval, "Fuck, Granger, this arse of yours is going to kill me."

Draco's fingers dug greedily into the flesh of her cheeks before rotating to the front, stroking her core from over her knickers. Keening, she rotated her hips and tried to grind herself into his touch.

He chuckled darkly. "Do you want me, Granger?" he slipped a finger under the damp fabric, pressing the pad of his finger against her clit, her eyelids fluttered at his touch. His lips pressed against her ear as he whispered, "Because I want you."

"Please."

Before she even finished saying the word, he plunged a finger into her cunt and released a shuddered breath. "Oh, fuck, you're so ready for me."

This was happening, she decided with her last coherent thought. After years of late nights at the Ministry and failed date after failed date, she deserved to be seduced by a sexy bachelor. Her mind fell blank as he curled his finger and found that spot that made her vision go white.

Studying her reactions, he added a second finger and thrust into her again and again, she threw her head back, rocking against his touch and riding his fingers with reckless abandon. He circled her clit, dipping his fingers into her and withdrawing, his eyes never left her face. Her thighs shook around his hand and he drew small breathy noises out of her.

"Do you know how many nights I dreamed of this, Granger?" his husky voice murmured into her ear, sending a shiver of delight down her spine. "I want to feel you come on my fingers, then I want you to come on my cock while I fuck you until you forget everything but my name. I want to see the way you come undone so you know that no one can do that to you like I can."

"Malfoy," she moaned between gasps, her whole body sang from his touch.

He growled low at the use of his name and his hand withdrew from her core; she whimpered at the loss of contact, but her protest was quickly cut off when he surprised her by picking her up. Pushing the papers off his desk, he set her down on top, her back pressing against the wood.

"I wasn't going to—I just can't stop now that you're here, not when you look so damn perfect." His eyes squeezed shut as if painful before they opened again, watching her with a look of hunger. "It's like the old days at school, isn't it, Granger? Only this time I don't have to just imagine what you'd look like writhing on my desk under me."

Before she could ask any follow up questions, he carefully removed her flats before trailing his hands up her skirt and pulling her knickers down and off. He slipped them in his pocket with a wink before lifting her leg, placing heated kisses from her calf all the way up to her inner thigh.

"Malfoy, what are you—" she exhaled sharply, as he buried his head between her legs, his hands gripped her hips possessively as he dragged his tongue up her slit. "Oh my god!" Her back arched away from the desk; her chest rising and falling with her heaved breaths. Her hips shifted and chased after his tongue, desperate for more of him.

"Come on, Granger," he encouraged. "I know you're close, you have that look you get when you've solved a particularly difficult problem in class. Oh fuck, you look so perfect."

She heard the smirk in his voice but any retort died on her lips as he rubbed that spot again, bringing her to the edge as he pumped his fingers in and out of her while he sucked her sensitive nub. He held her thighs open as they quivered around his head. Her eyes rolled back as she clenched around him, waves of pleasure rolling through her body as she came. He continued to flick his tongue against her, riding out the waves as she spasmed with aftershocks.

Her head hit the desk as her body slacked in exhaustion.

"Oh my god," she repeated, blinking slowly.

Slipping one hand under her knees and the other around her arms, Draco lifted her effortlessly and carried her out of the office. Looking up at him with a question, his eyes were filled with need as he rasped, "Bedroom."

She nodded quickly in agreement.

The next room was a massive suite that mirrored the size of the main living space. He placed her carefully on a bed wide enough to fit several people and she sunk into the soft bedding. Eyeing her blouse, he began to undo each button, kissing his way down her chest. When he reached the last button, he tugged at it and dropped it to the floor.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she laid in front of him, fully exposed while he was still dressed. His hair was messy from her fingers tangling in it, his lips swollen and red from her kisses. The sight of Draco Malfoy with his walls down, his eyes filled with hunger for her, caused heat to pool in her abdomen. He was looking at her like he wanted to worship her body for hours and fuck, she would let him.

During their school years, she often fantasized how he would look under his Quidditch robes, showering after practice. Never had she guessed she would have the chance to see it. Mimicking his motions, Hermione unbuttoned one button with a kiss, then a second, then she impatiently ripped all the remaining buttons as she tore his shirt off him. The buttons clattered against the wooden floor.

"Gods that was fun. I wish I had done that before."

Looking amused, he gave her a questioning look.

"Small confession, I used to wonder what you would have done if I came up to you in an abandoned corner of the library and tried that move," she admitted with a half-smile.

Draco stilled in disbelief before he asked. "Then what?"

"Then you'd pick me up and pin me against the bookcase, rip my knickers and take me right there. You'd tell me to be quiet so we wouldn't get caught, but I couldn't help myself when you were inside me."

A low exhale left his lips.

"You're not the only one who had dreams late at night with the curtains pulled shut around their bed," she teased, watching his expression shift as she unbuckled his belt and pushed his trousers down and off him.

His jaw clenched in a bid for control as his eyes darkened further.

Hermione continued, emboldened by his response to her words, "I used to wait until everyone was asleep, and I'd silence my bed." She grinned as he licked his lips. "I'd touch myself and pretend it was you between my legs."

Kneeling down, she was now eye level with his bulge; she rubbed her thighs together impatiently, desperate for friction. He was larger than any partner she had before, and she wanted him until it hurt. 'until she forgot everything but his name.' Pulling off his trunks, she watched his hard cock spring free of its confines.

This time it was Hermione who licked her lips. Even though he was large, she figured that she could fit most of him in her mouth.

He swallowed hard, recognizing her intention. "Fuck. You don't have to—"

"I want to…I want to taste you," she admitted, eyeing his straining cock.

Before he could answer, she wrapped her hand around the base before giving his head a tentative flick of her tongue. Licking the underside of his cock, she drank in the sounds of his quickening breath. He let out a low hiss as she wrapped her lips around him and sank down. His pupils were blown out with desire as he watched her with lidded gaze, his eyes fixed on her lips as she bobbed on his cock.

"Gods," he growled. "You look so pretty on your knees for me."

A muffled moan was her reply and his eyes fluttered at the vibration.

Hermione dragged her tongue up the length of him before taking as much of him into her mouth as she could fit without gagging. She dipped lower and felt him hit the back of her throat, pulling back, she swirled her tongue around the swollen head.

His jaw clenched and his breathing grew shallow.

Trying to maintain control, he tilted his hips up towards her, appearing to fight off the urge to thrust into her mouth. Winding his fingers into her curls, a groan slipped out. Encouraged by his sounds, she relaxed her throat and took him in deeper.

Suddenly, he pulled out, panting softly. "Granger…if you keep this up, I won't last…" she looked up at him making eye contact as she lowered herself back down, taking as much of him as she could.

He moaned, the sound hung heavy in the air, "Fuck, oh Granger. You take my cock so good, oh—" His hips shook under her, his hands tightened their grip in her hair.

His breath grew ragged as his hips moved in shallow thrusts into her mouth as he gave in to the sensation and his control slipped. "I'm…" his eyes rolled back in his head as his abdomen tensed, he poured into her mouth. She swallowed just as he pulled her up to him, kissing her passionately.

"Those lips of yours are going to kill me," he muttered, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth. "Every week at work, sucking your quills, biting that lip, and now, watching my cock disappear between your lips."

Parting her thighs with his knee, he slotted himself between her legs. Dipping his head, he laid a single kiss on the swell of her breast, his tongue circling her peak and flicking it with his tongue. Her nipples stiffened against the chill of the air. Massaging both breasts with his hands, he alternated between them with his mouth.

Arching up against him, she mumbled incoherently, whimpering softly.

"You make the most delicious noises, Granger," he continued his ministrations, nipping and sucking her breasts while she writhed beneath him.

His hands moved down to her waist and he lined himself up at her entrance, coating himself with her arousal, teasing her as he rocked his hips forward, barely entering her. She caught a smirk on his lips as she groaned impatiently and shifted closer to him. As he inched in further, she felt herself stretch around his cock until she felt impossibly full.

Lifting her leg to rest on his shoulder, he slid back into her and bottomed out from the angle; a moan escaped his lips as he filled her completely. He waited for one excruciatingly long moment before he pulled out, his cock dragging along her walls. Just when she was about to complain, he pushed back into her to the hilt.

Keening beneath him, she met each pump of his cock with a lift of her hips as continued at a delicious pace. She lowered her leg and his hips snapped against her as he stretched and filled her again and again. Her hands bunched the sheets around her; Draco's hands grabbed hers, interlacing their fingers as he pinned her hands above her head.

He groaned in her ear, his face buried in her neck and hair. Hermione hooked her ankles around his hips, anchoring herself as she ground against him, matching his thrusts. He turned her head to him, looking her in the eyes with a possessive fire.

"I want to watch you when you come on my cock," he muttered under his breath, increasing his tempo, reaching one hand down and rubbing circles into her swollen clit, the other hand still pinning her arm up. "I never want to forget this moment, the way you look—oh fuck, the way you feel."

She arched, feeling her muscles flutter with tension as she grabbed at his shoulders, digging her nails into his back. His hips snapped erratically against her, as she clenched around him, pulling him closer and closer. She fell over the ledge, looking into his eyes as she let go, her muscles twitching in perfect agony around him. He moaned something against her neck, driving into her with a relentless pace.

"Malfoy, you feel amazing. Don't stop," she found herself begging.

Hermione's body twitched beneath him, riding the waves of her pleasure, he looked overtaken by the feeling of her tightening around him. His hands moved to grip her hips while his body tensed. He tipped his head back, finishing with a shuddered breath as he pulsed inside her.

Collapsing next to her, he leaned over and kissed her lazily, stroking her cheek with his hand.

"That was so much better than I had ever imagined, and you had a decade of fantasies to live up to." She gave a small chuckle and scrunched her nose as she tried to catch her breath, feeling completely sated.

Draco looked down at her lips and back up to her face. "I can't believe how much you act like her," he marveled, tracing a finger across her freckles.

Hermione looked at him curiously, an unsettled feeling in her stomach. "Like who?"

"Hermione Granger," he stated, his tone matter of fact.

White noise filled her ears as his words rang in her head.

"But…I am Hermione Granger," she said, her eyes growing wide.

"You're really committed to the part," he admired with a shrug. "It's commendable, for sure."

Sitting up abruptly, she looked at him in confusion, the pit in her chest doubled. "Wait. Who you do think I am?" She asked, her heart pounding wildly in her chest as she pulled the blanket up to cover herself.

Draco looked baffled; the sight would have made her laugh under different circumstances. "I don't know? Parvati said she would send one of her girls after her lunch with Grang…" the word died on his lips as his mouth fell open. "Shit."

Hermione stared back at him, unable to form words.

"Are you telling me you're not Parvati's girl?" Draco's voice was dangerously low, his eyes filled with pure panic.

"We…we had lunch and then I told her I wasn't giving up my hair and she left a card and I tried to return it and then it Portkeyed me here," Hermione rambled, pulling the blanket tighter around her. "You called me Granger," she argued. "You didn't know it was me?"

"It was part of the experience," he answered frantically. "Oh fuck. Fuck!" he ran his hands over his face.

He turned to her, looking serious, "Everything you said—everything you did—it was all real? With me?"

Her face flushed, replaying everything she had said in the past hour in her head.

He pulled her to him, kissing her like she was air and he was a drowning man.

"How long?" he rasped out, holding her face between his hands.

"Um…" her eyes looked back and forth between his as she considered the question. "Fifth year, I think? It's hard to recall, those years were a blur."

He looked distraught, his eyes clenched shut. "You're telling me—Since fifth year? Fuck, Granger, it's been since fourth for me."

Her stomach twisted delightfully at his words. "Oh my god."

"I can't believe this," he said, shaking his head as his eyes darted back and forth, taking in her words. "I never thought…I've been trying to figure out how to talk to you for years. I've been arranging all sorts of meetings on level four just to run into you. I donated thousands of Galleons to your department hoping you would talk to me. If I had known," he looked horrified. "Bloody hell, I'm so sorry Granger."

"This is what you wanted to do with my hair? Polyjuice some girl and pretend to fuck me?" Hermione hissed, climbing out of the bed and taking his blanket with her.

"I thought…oh, Merlin…I've wanted you for years, Granger, I can't even get myself to go on a second date because they weren't you. I see you every day at work and hate myself because I knew I'd never be good enough for you. Even if I got you to agree to a date, I knew I'd fuck it all up like I do everything else. I've been trying to date but they're all a disaster. I always came back to Blaise saying, 'her hair was all wrong—it was much too boring and straight', 'can you believe this one didn't know about Hogwarts: A History?', 'that one didn't even challenge me when we disagreed, she just changed her opinion to suit mine'."

Hermione fought the urge to smile at his retelling, trying to focus on the fact that she should be angry with him.

His voice grew panicked as he tried to explain, "Then Blaise…Blaise told me about Parvati's service, he said I could get you out of my system if I had you just once and then I could move on. It was dumb, it was so dumb, I don't know why I ever thought it would work."

"What do you mean? Didn't you get what you wanted?" she asked quietly, looking away from him.

"No." Draco massaged his temples in frustration. "Because what I want is you, Granger. All of you. Not some fake Polyjuiced you. I want to wake up next to you and your messy curls each morning; I want to fix your tea just right because only I know how you like it. I want to stay up all night debating ideas with you, I want to kiss that spot on your neck that I know makes your toes curl." His voice rumbled low, sending a shiver down her spine.

"It was never going to be enough." He murmured, "not without having all of you."

She subconsciously stepped closer to him; her bare feet cold against the floor.

"I never…I never thought you would want me." He looked away, running a hand through his messy hair. "If I had known…Merlin." He shook his head slowly, looking up at her, his eyes sincere. "I'd give you anything."

A beat of silence swept over the room.

"Would you stay?" He asked, his voice more vulnerable than she had ever heard. "Please stay," he begged. "I don't think I could stand it if you left."

Pausing, Hermione considered his words watching as he held his breath, waiting for her answer.

Her hands dropped the blanket, and his eyes fell back onto her naked body before going back up to her face. "I'll stay," she whispered, crawling back into bed with him. "You could have just asked me to tea, you know. I would've been interested."

He pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair and kissing her temple. "Granger, if you just give me a chance, I'll give you the world, anything you want—just say the word."

She turned to him, staring into his stormy grey eyes. "Let's just start with you. I just want you."

"You have me," he muttered against her lips, kissing her breathless.

"What now?"

"What are you doing tomorrow? I want to bring you on a proper date, I know of a small bookstore out of the way where we can have lunch. We can buy all the books you want and debate each one; we can drink mediocre tea and at the end of the date, I'll walk you home."

Giving him a coy smile, she laced her fingers with his. "I'd love that."

"I have to say, Blaise, of all the odd requests you've had for me over the years this one was by far the oddest." Parvati sighed, inspecting her nails.

"But did it work?" Blaise asked, leaning closer to Parvati who was sitting across from him, sipping her tea.

"Obviously," Parvati smiled craftily. "I'm the best in my field for a reason. You don't live with a girl for seven years without learning a thing or two about her. Nothing would frustrate Hermione Granger more than having someone believe she would consider selling part of herself for financial gain. She has her 'moral principles', which makes her boringly predictable. She activated the Portkey in my office directly after we had lunch."

Blaise's eyes widened in intrigue. "And?"

"That was four hours ago," Parvati smirked at her accomplice. "And she's still there."