Draco stirred awake, immediately pulling the dark-haired witch against him, relishing the feel of her soft naked body against his, sighing as her gentle breath tickled his skin. She was alive and she was in his arms. It was all he had ever wanted.

And then, as though being doused by a bucket of ice-cold water, he remembered the wife who was waiting for him back home. He hated himself. No - he utterly loathed himself. Astoria did not deserve this. And neither did Etta.

He was a despicable human being.

Yet, he knew already that he wouldn't be able to stay away. Nothing in the world could keep him from her. Not his wife, his parents - nothing. The hunger she stirred in him was the strongest he had ever known. He had watched as he'd slowly pushed into her, heard the sharp gasp of delight and seen her beautiful face contort with pleasure. Afterwards, when they were lain in each other's arms, tangled in the sheets of her bed, he understood that this was more than just a one-off encounter.

"Draco?" Etta's eyes fluttered open. The startling green of them made his heart race. He couldn't help but press his lips down on hers, wanting to taste her, to have as much of her as he could.

"Hello, you," he whispered huskily, breaking away just enough so that his lips tickled hers when he spoke.

She stirred beneath him, yawning sleepily. "What time is it?" she muttered drowsily, closing her eyes again as she nuzzled into the crook of his arm.

Draco glanced around the unfamiliar bedroom, looking for a clock, but came up short. "How do you ever get up in time, Potter," he drawled, "if you don't even have a simple everyday item like a clock?"

With her eyes still closed, Etta sluggishly reached over to her bedside table, grappling at various items until she finally located a slim silver chained watch. Drawing her arm back in, she dropped the watch in his hand.

Draco's heart sank when he saw the time. It was four o'clock in the morning. Astoria was going to be worried. He shouldn't have stayed, but he couldn't bear to tear himself away from Etta's arms after waiting so long to be back in them.

"Etta, I've got to go," he said gently, hating himself all over again. He felt her body stiffen; the significance of this situation clearly not lost on her.

Her eyes flew back open and the sadness behind them was unmistakable. "Will I see you again?" she whispered, and his heart twisted at the vulnerability of her question.

He leant down, planting his lips firmly against hers, reassuring not just her but himself too. "I don't think I could ever stay away from you, Etta," he breathed, and he found his heart fluttered at the look of joy that flickered in her eyes.

Slowly and reluctantly, he peeled himself away from her and climbed out of bed. He could feel her eyes follow him around the room as he dressed, making him want to dive back under the covers and kiss every inch of her.

"Next Thursday," he said, leaning down to kiss the lightning shaped scar upon her forehead, the same scar that used to infuriate him so when they were younger. "I'll be in the same place. Waiting."

He stood up, taking one last look at the beautiful, fierce Gryffindor whom he had always loved above anyone and everything else.

And then he left. Back home to his waiting wife.

***

One morning-after-pill later, I felt like the shittiest and skankiest human being in the world.

If this was what it was like to have an affair with a married man, then I did not want it at all.

But I wanted him.

"Are you okay, Etta?" Hermione asked later in the week over lunch. "You just seem a little... I don't know, distracted lately."

I stirred my coffee trying to make my face look as passive as possible. "I'm fine, Hermione, just snowed under with paperwork, you know how it is."

"Yes, I do know how it is, and it's no different to normal," Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Don't forget I know you, Etta, and I know when something's on your mind."

Yes, it truly was. Draco Malfoy was on my mind. I literally thought about nothing else. The anticipation of seeing him again was killing me. I constantly wondered where he was, who he was talking to... what he was doing with his wife.

My stomach knotted in a mixture of jealousy and guilt whenever I thought about Astoria. I didn't know her, but from my understanding, she was a kind, harmless woman. In some ways it would have been better if he had married Pansy - I wouldn't feel so horrendously guilty then.

And even though I had no right, I hated thinking of him going home to her. I wondered if he had fucked her since being with me, and the thought caused such an unpleasant burning sensation in my stomach, that I had to wrap my arms around myself to try and stem the pain.

"Really, Hermione," I lied, "everything is fine."

I hated being dishonest with her, but I knew I would not be able to bear seeing the disappointment on her face or listen to the inevitable lecture about how affairs tear lives apart. I did not need reminding that what I was doing was wrong, I knew it was.

And yet... there was a part of me that hoped Draco would leave Astoria; to throw away his marriage and what little reputation he had left for me.

But I knew him. Draco Malfoy would sooner cut off his dick than do something so bold as to publicly leave his wife for another woman, even if he loved her. And I knew I would be forever too stubborn and too proud to ask him to do it.

So even at this point, I knew exactly what I was walking into.

But nothing seemed as though it would stop me, not even the knowledge that my heart was very likely about to get once again smashed into tiny irreparable pieces.

Because as it always had been, the pull to Draco Malfoy was too great to resist.

***

My footsteps quickened along the pavement, seemingly of their own accord. I was practically tripping over myself to get to my destination.

The thought of seeing him again made my heart race, of being able to touch him and kiss him. The week had been too long, I had not been able to think of anything but this moment.

As I reached the pub, I paused and took a deep breath, steadying myself before entering. I needed to be calm. I was not a silly little teenage schoolgirl anymore.

But as I stepped inside and spotted the white-blond haired Slytherin casually leaning against the bar, a silly little teenage schoolgirl was exactly what I felt as I found myself caught by a sudden giddiness.

He turned his head, his eyes resting on me. My stomach gave an involuntary flip as a small sultry smile tugged at his lips.

His eyes never left mine as I approached and when I got closer, I could see the desire written all over his face. It was obvious he had been yearning for this moment as much as I had.

"Drink?" he asked, his voice a husky growl.

No, I didn't want a fucking drink. I wanted to take him straight back to mine and rip our clothes off and do all sorts of impure things to each other.

"Whiskey, thanks." I answered coolly, leaning against the bar next to him. I caught a whiff of his cologne and my insides knotted in utter longing.

"Are you sure?" Draco growled quietly, leaning in, his lips just above my ear. There was no question of his meaning. Our eyes locked and my breath caught in my throat.

"Let's go," I breathed, and somehow, I managed to make my legs work properly as Draco hurriedly pulled me out of the pub.

We did not even make it to the bedroom, such was our need. We fucked hard and fast right there on the hallway floor of my flat, not even bothering to fully undress.

"How long can you stay?" I whispered breathlessly afterwards as we lay recovering beneath the coat hooks.

Draco turned his head to look at me, a pained expression on his face. "Don't hate me, but I said I was staying with a friend."

"Oh." I did not know what to say. He wanted to stay the whole night. And even though that thought thrilled me to the very core; the lie to his wife had tainted it.

Draco reached out his hand and lightly cupped my face. "I won't stay if you don't want me to, I just couldn't bear to leave you in the early hours again."

"Of course I want you to stay," I whispered, leaning up and brushing my lips softly against his. I did not add that if I had it my way, he would stay with me forever.

But deep down, I knew that was never going to happen. And as our eyes guiltily met, one name lingered, unspoken upon our lips.

Astoria.

***