"I have an itch," mumbled a tall boy to himself as he walked the shadowed corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, "An itch only Granger can scratch"

He had been denying this for weeks, months even, and yet it slipped out from between his lips as smooth as his silken bed sheets rubbed against his bare skin. For hours every day he had been telling himself that these feelings were untrue, that they would fade as do the minutes of the day. There were times when he wanted to tell her; times that he wanted to rip his heart from his chest; times he just wanted to have his way with her.

When she looked at him, he felt like he was alive. His breath would catch in his throat, his heart would race; he would feel himself grow in anticipation that this beauty would one day be his own. Every time he saw her, her chestnut-brown hair would be shining, even in the dimmest of lights, and when he looked into her caramel-brown eyes he would be drawn in by their depth. Her perfect face was never blemished by products; her lips never tainted with artificial colour; her eyelids never weighed down with eye shadows, or her eyelashes soiled by over-applied mascara. She always wore her clothes with pride, never revealing more than should be, and this separated her from the rest.

He knew he meant something to her, he could tell by the way she looked at him. She was never love struck by his beauty, never hung around him giggling at his poorest jokes and sighing at his lightest compliments. Instead she looked at him with despair and distaste in her expressive eyes. Her beautiful eyes would never look upon him with admiration, never cast a bright light around him, but view him in shadows, dark lights that showed him only as the ferret that she hated.

For this reason, he craved for her attention, for those brief moments that they would speak, and despite the harshness of her words, they were special to him. Her voice sounded like gold to him, it was so rare, so precious that he yearned to hear it; nothing else in this world could sound like it; nothing else could create that tingling feeling deep within his stomach as the sound of her voice could. It sounded beautiful no matter how she used it, whether she snarled, spat, laughed, screamed, screeched, squealed or yelled; every tone was harmonious to his ears. He dreamed of the day when she would laugh with him, when she would cry at their wedding, when she would scream giving birth to their first child, when she would yell at him to put the garbage out and when she would sit down and they would talk for hours.

He could no longer deny it; he wanted her more than the sun, the moon and the stars. She was like the drink you couldn't put down; she was a drug, and he was addicted to her. With that set in mind, he was out here tonight to capture her heart, to seal her soul with his, to make her realise what he had felt for so long. He wasn't going to push himself on her, he was going to persuade her in the general Slytherin way, he was going to be coy, cunning and devilish. He was going to show her he was the boss, he was going to make her fall in love with him; he was going to give her a love potion.

He had been told many times before that love potions don't create love, just a burning obsession with one person; and that that was good enough for the moment. Maybe after he had done what he wanted, shown her what she could have; she would want him as much as he wants her. One could only hope that she would opt to take the ride of her life and scream to never get off. She would then, only then, be venerable, easy to control, readily his for the keeping.

As footsteps approached, he knew it was her. This was his moment to shine in her eyes, his moment to prove his worthiness; his moment to show her that she could do no better than him. Reaching within his robes, he checked that the chocolates were there and closed his eyes, readying himself for the moment he would see her. Already his heart was racing in the sheer anticipation of seeing the woman of his dreams; he could not bear it if it was not her. The footsteps were nearing, and he stopped breathing, he was frozen in place, unsure of what to do; thoughts of her ignoring him, pretending he didn't exist ran through his mind as he stood there unable to move. Cautiously opening his stormy-grey eyes, he saw her only meters away from himself, suspicion clear in her expressive brown eyes.

"Malfoy!" she spoke sharply, "What are you waiting for? Get going!" she demanded as she took another step closer.

"I — I was waiting for you — Hermione" he stammered, finding that his Malfoy-charm had deserted him, "I was wondering — I wanted to give these to you. You know as a truce."

"What are you up to Malfoy?" she asked as she warily eyed the box of expensive chocolates, "You've hated me for this long and now decide you want forgiveness?"

"Draco. My name's Draco" he started as he pushed the chocolates into her hands, "I'm really sorry for what I've done, please forgive me."

"Mal — Draco — " she started, the expression in her face softening slightly as compassion filled her eyes, "Finish patrolling, then go to your common room."

His heart was still racing like he had run around the lake several times; his hands were shaking as though he had not eaten in a week. He had played his part, he had given her the chocolates, and now she had to complete the process. She had to trust that he was truly remorseful and put those chocolates between her delicate lips. It was her turn to consume that potion that would make her crave him, it was her turn to feel as though she would die every living moment that was not spent with him. All he could do now was sit and wait until she made her move.

Six hours later…

He was slouched in the chair by the fire in their common room waiting for her to come bursting through her door and into his awaiting arms. The bin contained the empty box of chocolates he had given her earlier, the effects should be setting in; she should wake up soon and want nothing more than to be in his arms. Many times before, he had sat here waiting for this to happen and now it was going to occur, and he didn't want to miss a single moment of it. Every noise made him jump, every whisper made his heart leap into his throat until he heard her door open. Starting to hyperventilate from panic, he struggled to regulate his breathing, he couldn't look to expectant; he wanted every moment of this to be perfect, just like it was in his head.

"Draco? Draco — is that you?" he heard her whisper from what he thought was her bedroom door.

"Hermione?" he asked as he turned around and was met by her angelic face only inches from his own, "Hermione?"

Her name seemed to roll off his tongue and he loved the way it sounded. The dim firelight was caught in the textures of her wild hair as she stood there before him in her pyjamas, enhancing her beauty. Thousands of shadows were cast upon her face and he could have watched the flame flickering in her eyes for the rest of his days. She had made her move, she had eaten the chocolates; she was ultimately his for the taking.

"Draco — I think I love you" she muttered, as she closed the space between them, "I love you — I think —."

Leaning forward to catch her lips in a kiss, he was surprised to find that she immediately deepened it, almost forcefully separating his lips with her tongue. Her hand had found its way to the back of his head and her fingers had wound themselves around locks of his fine blonde hair, this was everything he had imagined it to be. Wrapping his arm around her waist he allowed the other to roam up her shirt and under her bra, his fingers finding and slowly rubbing her nipple. Breaking away from her kiss, he moved his mouth down to her neck and kissed her collarbone, moving slowly upwards and then downwards, licking her flesh, tasting his beauty, occasionally marking her pale skin.

Her moaning brought him only pleasure as he pulled her shirt over her head, exposing the white skin beneath it, and quickly unclasped her bra. Here he could see what he had been pining for; here he could see what he had wanted for so long. He could feel her unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it away from his skin, but he was focused only on her as he pulled off her shorts and revealed her panties. He knew beneath them was what he had ultimately been waiting for, beneath that flimsy piece of material was a part of her that he knew would not be given easily. That was something that he had earned though, something he had waited long enough for.

She had taken off his pants and now he was left in his boxers; and her only in her panties. His hands were rubbing her breasts as she pushed him back onto the couch and straddled him, her hair falling down around her face as she leant forwards over him. As she rubbed herself against him, he felt himself grow unbearably hard and struggled to o calm himself as she pulled his boxers down. Reaching to her hips he hooked his fingers to the sides of her underwear and tugged them from her hips, leaving no restraints except their self-control.

"Draco —" she moaned as he flipped their positions so he was on top of her slim frame and his fingers slipped between the curls between her legs. "Draco —."

As she pulled him closer to herself, she wrapped her legs around his hips and waited with baited breath for him to push himself inside of her. He could feel her warmth so close to him as she waited, poised for him; barely able to contain himself he forced himself to keep control of himself, he wanted to make this moment last. This was the moment of his life and he was not going rush it. He wanted it to last forever, so he slowly, almost painfully, guided himself to where he wanted to be. With deliberation, he slowly pushed himself deeper, watching her face as she gasped with the unexpected pleasure. Pulling out he pushed himself back in again, and again, and again, listening to her moan as his breaths grew ragged.

He wanted more and more, he felt like he could not stop; that itch was not yet scratched. Leaning down, he again caught her lips in a passionate kiss before she rolled over so she was on top of him. Her breathing had not yet calmed and her lips were still swollen from his last attack.

"Hermione—I've wanted you for so long—I don't want to let you go" he muttered as she lowered herself back onto him and rocked gasping his name as she did.

"Draco—you're the only one I need" she gasped after what seemed several long hours and collapsed on top of his chest exhausted.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lay there beneath her, content to have her sleeping form on top of him. Watching her face, he was pleased to see a slight smile on her lips, her dreams would not be troubled tonight. As she exhaled, he could feel it on his chest, and he rubbed his hands up and down her back, letting his fingers trail lazily around as he too slowly faded into a deep sedated slumber. For now she had scratched that itch, but soon it would be back, and soon he would want her again. It was only a matter of time before he needed her, before he needed to have his way with her again.

Hey...this has to be the longest chaptery thingy that I have ever written!! (Over 2000 words!! Wooo! Go me!!!) I hope you liked it and let me know if you want me to continue, cuz I've left it as a one-shot, but I can write more if you want it!! Please review!!!

Mwah

Queen of the Scoubies