After a day of contemplation, Hermione decided to interrogate Theo. When Draco was in his Ancient Runes class she tracked Theo down in the library and found him in the History of Magic section.

Theo was looking down the aisle when she came around the corner. She could tell by his expression that he'd somehow known she was looking for him.

"Theo," she began, then she paused.

"Hermione," he said, putting his quill down and turning to face her.

Hermione gnawed at her lower lip as she stared at him. She always felt like she was somehow exploiting him when they interacted.

Maybe she shouldn't ask Theo. Maybe she should just talk to Draco. She could just ask Draco and not involve anyone else.

She wavered.

She just wanted to be braced for it. If Draco wasn't—if he wasn't monogamous, and it was going to be a conversation they had, she wanted to be emotionally prepared, so she had a clearer idea of what compromise she thought she could handle.

She swallowed. "Theo."

"Hermione," he said again.

"Theo..." she turned red as she said his name a third time. "I had a question I wanted to ask you."

He gave her a look and nodded. "Right. And that question would be?'

Hermione stared at him, hesitating for several seconds. She started to speak and then closed her mouth and reconsidered how to phrase her question.

She looked down at her shoes and drew a deep breath before looking up at him.

"Theo, don't take this the wrong way but—are you gay?"

Theo stared at her, apparently too stunned to even react. Then his eyes widened and he blinked repeatedly. "Wh-what? Am I what?"

Hermione wanted to sink into the floor.

His mouth formed several soundless words and then he closed his eyes and sighed. "Maybe—" he opened his eyes and looked at her with an aggrieved expression, "—you should tell me what the wrong way of taking that question is, so I know whether I'm taking it that way."

"I'm not" —she straightened the books on the shelf next to her—"I'm not asking because I think you're gay."

"Right. I was definitely taking it the wrong way," Theo muttered.

"I just—I heard this story about you, and um, Draco and Blaise that I'm very confused about."

Theo's eyebrows rocketed up. "What kind of story?"

Hermione assiduously avoided meeting his eyes. "A—um, well someone I know, heard this story that you three—shagged each other—a lot."

"Draco, Blaise, and I shagged? The three of us?"

"That's—that's what I heard." Hermione's face felt like the surface of the sun.

"Well, I'm not gay," Theo said flatly.

"Oh."

"Or bisexual or whatever you thought. Draco—" Theo's voice faded away as Hermione tensed, and his hand twitched as if he wanted to reach out to her. He looked up at the ceiling and shook his head in despair. "You two are the worst."

Hermione hunched her shoulders up around her ears and wished the bookshelf would swallow her.

"Draco," Theo said loudly, "who you are really asking this question about, is also not gay, or bisexual. Blaise actually will shag anything with two legs, but I doubt you have any interest in his orientation."

Theo rubbed his eyes. "Good grief, you and Draco are, without a doubt, the biggest idiots I have ever known. I'm beginning to question how either of you managed to survive the war." He dragged a hand through his hair and stared pointedly at Hermione. "If I develop ulcers, I'm sending you my medical bills. You've been shagging him for how many months now, and suddenly you're concerned he's gay?"

Hermione felt so embarrassed that she thought she may spontaneously combust. "The biology is confusing. I don't want to just go and assume. " Her voice was very small.

Theo gave a deep sigh. "I don't know why I'm not sabotaging you two. This would be a perfect opportunity. I'm really too nice to be a Slytherin. I should have let that stupid hat put me in Ravenclaw." He shook his head sharply. "Draco's preoccupation with Potter throughout the years notwithstanding, his preference has never gone that way, that I am aware. He was also in a fairly serious relationship with Pansy for several years. Which I'm sure you have to have noticed."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Right. He's not gay, I didn't think he was actually gay. I just—I'm hearing tales of summer orgies and I didn't know what to make of it."

Theo sniggered. "Despite the fact we live in the dungeons, Slytherin is not actually composed entirely of sexual libertines. Ravenclaw is actually much kinkier. And Hufflepuff is really—," he blushed and cut himself off abruptly with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Slytherin is fairly traditional; arranged marriages and all that rot. I wouldn't be surprised if we had more virgins than the other houses." He tilted his head to the side. "When did Draco, Blaise and I have this orgy?"

"This past summer," Hermione said in a low voice.

Theo gave a low chuckle "Right. This summer while all those aurors were crawling through his home, tearing the place apart looking for Dark Artifacts, and he was under house arrest; we were having a threesome," Theo's eyes were glinting with amusement. "Honestly, we spent most of our time reorganizing the—"

His voice suddenly cut off and he burst out laughing. Then he clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Oh good lord." His shoulders shook. "That's—I need to verify something, but I think I know where the story of Draco's summer orgy came from," he said, sounding like he was on the verge of laughing again. "I will get back to you about this."

Hermione felt like she could breathe again. Draco wasn't a polyamorous bisexual; she would never have to share him with anyone. She felt like singing, despite the fact she couldn't carry a tune to save her life.

She skipped on her way to meet Draco after class.

He snorted when he found her right outside the door. "You don't have to pick me up after classes. I can walk all the way to the library and meet you there."

She smiled up at him. "But if I did that, we couldn't snog on the way there."

The corners of his eyes crinkled, and he grabbed her hand. When they were walking down an empty hallway, Draco caught her by the waist and pulled her behind a statue.

She kissed him greedily.

Having things stable with Draco had vastly improved things for her. They shagged in the evening the way they already had been, but Draco no longer left in the morning while Hermione pretended to be asleep. Instead, he stayed, and Hermione usually woke up with his mouth and highly-talented tongue between her legs. Then he'd crawl up her body and fuck her until he knotted inside her, and she'd doze in his arms again, or they'd snog or talk or scent-mark obsessively. Then they'd shower and only part ways when they arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast.

Sometimes they'd study in their room and take study breaks that also involving shagging.

It was like being on a honeymoon with a rigorous academic schedule.

It was enough sex that, at long last, Hermione's Omega subconscious was appeased. It shut up and let Hermione live again. It stirred when she and Draco were having sex, but aside from that Hermione almost didn't feel it the rest of the time. The duality almost felt gone.

Draco set her on the pedestal of the statue, and she wrapped her legs around his hips as she kissed him until her lungs felt like they might burst.

He drew his lips away and brushed his nose against hers. "We could go to the library, or I could get you off here first." He stepped back a little and seemed to be surveying her. "I must say, I rather like you on a pedestal, Granger. It suits you."

Hermione gave a low laugh and slipped down. "Well I don't care for pedestals. I much prefer beds, or—," she smirked up at him, "—broom closets."

Draco's eyes darkened. "Do you now?"

"Shagging you after DADA class in the broom closest was—," her mouth twitched, "I rather liked it."

Draco loomed over her. "Which part?"

Hermione felt her cheeks warm. "All of it. I liked how aggressive you were. That was the first time you used your teeth." She shivered slightly and pressed her legs together. "And—the position. It felt so intense and I—I like breaking the rules. It gives me a bit of a thrill."

Hermione was sure her face had turned bright red. Draco looked positively feral.

"I knew you were a rule breaker. Somehow I didn't realize you get off on it." Draco's voice had dropped to the very bottom of his register, and it sent goosebumps across Hermione's entire body.

"Not—not always." Her voice jumped a full octave.

He slid a hand around her wrist, and her breath caught. He pulled her hard against his chest and dipped his head down so his mouth was next to her ear.

"As it happens, this is a rather empty hallway, and there's a supply closet around the corner. It would be rather inappropriate for me to fuck you against wall of it, wouldn't it?"

"It would." Hermione could barely breathe.

"It's fortunate that neither of us are very rule-abiding then."

He caught her wrist and dragged her into the supply closet and demonstrated just how blatantly they both enjoyed breaking the rules.

It really was a good thing that she hadn't wanted to be Head Girl.

Afterward she wrapped her arms around him and sighed, kissing his chest.

"Ron and Harry haven't written back yet," she said after a minute. "I'm beginning to worry about what they're planning. They're probably going to show up here."

Draco's hands in her hair tightened. "Have you seen them since you presented?"

"Once. They came for a Hogsmeade weekend. We took a walk around the castle and caught up. They were mostly really awkward and just kept telling me to soulbond with Charlie during my next heat in order to stay safe. They haven't sent you any death threats or anything have they?"

"No. No death threats from Potter or Weasley." Draco's voice was overly casual.

Hermione stared at him. "From anyone else?"

He gave her a wry smile. "Just the usual."

Hermione's expression tightened, and Draco's smile vanished. "You do too, don't you?" he asked.

Hermione dropped her eyes and shrugged. "Every now and then. Nothing enrages old pureblood families like a Muggle-born who doesn't know her place. Which—is apparently a ditch somewhere. They come every now and then, ever since the Tri-Wizard tournament, normally after Harry or Ron get featured in The Daily Prophet. I think McGonagall started screening them after someone sent me bubotuber pus. I usually just skim them and banish them."

"I've noticed." His eyes were tense, and his arms around her stiffened slightly.

She rested her hand against his throat, just grazing his glands with her fingers. He relaxed.

"It's really not an issue. I'm just more visible than most Muggle-borns; most of them are rather quiet about their parentage. It's not even really directed at me, it's just general hate toward the existence of Muggle-borns. Anonymity emboldens assholes." She shrugged.

Draco stared at her for a minute. "Hermione, what are your plans after you graduate?"

Hermione's heart beat increased, she shifted and looked away. "I'm not—really sure yet. I suppose it will depend on how I do on my NEWTs. That will affect things a lot, don't you think?"

Draco snorted and gave her a long look. "You're easily on track to pass all of them. You could probably sit for them now. You must have some idea of what you'll pursue."

Hermione twitched. "Well, I had thought Magical Creature Department could be a good fit for me. Working with Magical Beings in particular. I want to reform things there. Most of the existing laws are almost entirely in the interest and protection of wizards rather than taking anything about Magical Beings into account. I'd like to see things change  It's a fairly mobile Department from what I've heard, so I wouldn't have to spend my whole life trying to work my way up to a place where I could finally make a difference." Her voice suddenly dropped. "But—I'm not sure if I'll be the one to do it. I'm still—figuring things out."

"Like what?" Draco's eyes were narrowed as he stared at her.

Her mouth felt dry. "Well—," she swallowed nervously, "I may—take a break after I finish school. It might be a good idea to spend time with my parents, you know, and help them resettle. The healers are hopeful that their memories will be fully restored by the end of the school year. So after I take my NEWTs—it might be best to step away and take time to reconnect with them."

Draco was silent. Hermione glanced at him nervously.

"What are you leaving out?" he finally said.

Hermione's stomach dropped. "Nothing. Just a personal matter."

"More personal than your parents?" He arched an eyebrow.

Hermione met his eyes. "It's something I need to work through on my own. When I'm more sure about it, I'll tell you then."

Draco looked like he wanted to argue. His mouth twisted, and his jaw jutted out as he stared at her. He started to open his mouth but then snapped it shut and subsided with an eye roll. "Fine."

Hermione released the small sigh of relief. "It's not anything you need to worry about."

His eyes narrowed. "When you say it like that, I feel like I do. You'll talk about your parents and the death threats you get in the mail, but you won't tell me what you're planning to do when you graduate."

Hermione swallowed and rebuttoned her shirt. "It's complicated. You'll understand later. I'll tell you when we graduate—if you still want to know then."

"I'll plan on it."

She studied his expression and could tell he was bothered. "I'm sorry. It just—it wouldn't help to tell you."

He gave a low sigh.

Hermione had rounds with Pansy the next night. Draco sulked visibly when she was getting ready to leave.

She stopped in the bathroom to wash the ink off her hands and try to smooth her hair from the snog session she and Draco had gotten sidetracked by.

"Explain to me again why you're doing rounds with Pansy?" Draco suddenly appeared at the door, looking sullen.

Hermione started slightly and then looked back at the mirror. "I asked Ginny to pair us."

Draco rolled his eye. "Yes. I understand that particular part. Why?"

Hermione muttered a pressing charm on her shirt and gathered her hair into a ponytail. "I think she could use a friend. She's having a pretty hard year too. I think she thinks I'm taking advantage of you."

Draco snorted audibly. "Right. Of the two of us, you're definitely the one gaining all the advantages here."

Hermione shrugged and leaned forward, applying some murtlap essence to her neck and lips. It had been a slightly heated snog session.

"She cares a lot about you, Draco."

"So your solution is to become friends with her? I'm fairly certain that it's irregular to go befriend your boyfriend's ex."

"Well, I've never been much good at sticking to convention. I'm not going to not be friends with someone just because there's some sort of unspoken rule against it."

Draco sighed and slumped against the doorframe. "You said it would be weeks before you started patrols."

"It just turned out this way. It's not every week since they have an extra year worth of prefects. I'll only do it occasionally."

"If she tells you anything, please verify it with me. Don't pay any attention to her if she starts monologuing about posture or political marriages or—," he stared at her. "Are you primping?"

Hermione snatched her hands away from the curl she was trying to fix. "Absolutely not."

Draco eyed her critically for several seconds before his entire face split into a gloating smile. "You are. You are primping for rounds with Pansy. You're doing your hair, you even ironed your shirt."

"I didn't."

Draco moved toward her like a wolf. "You did"

Hermione darted under his arm to avoid him. "Fine, I ironed my shirt. Pansy is highly judgmental. I'm not interested in giving her any free shots."

"You don't even iron your shirt for me," Draco caught her by the wrist and pulled her against him and inspected her hands. "You washed all your ink stains off." He dragged his tongue along her gland.

Hermione gave a low moan. "That's because you'd just wrinkle it again. Stop licking me. I have to go."

"Don't jilt me for my ex, Granger." Draco stared at her with a mock serious expression.

She snorted as she pulled her hand free. "I don't think that's a concern you need to have."

"I can never be too careful. You're full of surprises. So, let the record show, I've asked you very nicely not to dump me and run off with my ex."

"Your request has been noted, but I don't really think I'm her type."

"Not if your clothes are wrinkled." He bunched her skirt up and squeezed her arse.

She smacked his hand sharply. "I have rounds, you prat."

"Fine." He released her with a sigh. "I'll see you after."

She rose up on her toes and then dragged his head down the remaining six inches needed to kiss his lips. "See you after."

Pansy was standing stiffly outside the prefect office when Hermione arrived.

"There you are, I wondered if you would bother to show."

"Sorry, I got sidetracked," Hermione said without meeting Pansy's eyes.

"Clearly." Pansy dragged her eyes up and down Hermione, and despite the fact her robes hide most of her clothing, Hermione felt like Pansy could see the wrinkles Draco had put in her skirt. "So—any particular reason you've decided to inflict yourself upon me on biweekly basis?"

Hermione shrugged. "You're avoiding me, and you keep glaring at me. I figured we should talk."

Pansy sniffed, and her heels clicked sharply on the the castle flagstones as they started their patrol route. "Have you looked at the scrolls I gave you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No. You may have noticed, Draco and I are giving things a go."

Pansy gave a derisive scoff and looked at Hermione from the corner of her eyes. "Oh and does he know about all your plans? Did you tell him you're looking into getting yourself spayed? Handy bit of leverage there. Have you used it already, or are you saving it for maximum impact?"

Hermione's jaw twitched. "I told him I'd was looking into it back before we were dating because he asked about my long term plans. He knows it's something I was exploring and considering. I hadn't heard back at that point."

"What about now that you have? Is that why you made it official? Didn't get the easy exit you hoped for, so you decided to use Draco instead?"

Hermione looked away and peered into an empty classroom. "No. It wasn't anything like that. We—there were some communication issues that we had to sort through. That's why we hadn't been anything official before. Hearing back from St Mungos at the same time was just a coincidence."

Pansy gave a derisive snort as she illuminated her wand to check behind several statues and tapestries.

Hermione gave a frustrated sigh. "It's a backup plan, Pansy. I have to have a solution before I graduate unless I plan to just barricade myself inside a house for the rest of my life. I don't have a lot of time."

"Really, you expect me to believe it's Draco or bust for you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know you think I'm ambitious, but relationships are actually very important to me. I'm not going to jump into a of marriage of convenience that involves my soul because it might benefit my hypothetical career. It's not like I can just get bonded to some Alpha, never interact with them in private, and that will solve everything. With Alphas and Omegas it's—it's incredibly—involved."

Pansy sniggered. "Is that what they call it nowadays?" Her tone was vicious.

Hermione bristled. "You said yourself, Omegas are emotionally dominant. Soulbonding—there's no going back on it. If I soulbond with someone I didn't actually—," she swallowed and jerked a classroom door closed, "—that I didn't connect with emotionally, they'd know—they'd feel it, and they'd try to change themselves to please me. I'd feel so guilty. We'd fuel each other's misery. If we bonded and it didn't work—well, the only thing that reduces the intensity of a bond is physical distance. We'd just avoid one another as much as we could. Alphas can—can—can stray, but Omegas are—we don't really—it doesn't really work for us. I'd be trapped in a codependent relationship with someone who might spend all but four weeks out of the year in a different country, and I'd—," the corners of her eyes pricked, and she blinked hard. "I'd just have a bloody career to keep me company."

Hermione cleared her throat.  "It doesn't matter how politically advantageous some Alpha is, or how far they could help me take a career. The actual marriage aspects are huge and biologically unavoidable. So yes, I'd rather spay myself, as you so charmingly put it."

"So what's Draco for? Is he your lifeboat? The only person you won't feel guilty about if he changes himself to suit you?" Pansy sneered at her. "You know, everyone says a person's true colours show when they're cornered, and I must say, Granger, yours may be nastier than mine."

The corner of Hermione's mouth twitched. "Not that you seem to have any interest in believing I could be a slightly decent person, but I actually like Draco, Pansy. I really—like him." She looked down at her hands. "I'm not assuming it's going to work out. We're just trying it; there isn't any kind of commitment. We're just—getting to know each other. If things don't go well, I'm not going to force it."

Pansy froze and then stared at Hermione for several seconds. "Your friends don't know about that package from St Mungos, do they?"

Hermione looked away.

"Of course not; Weaslette's expression when she sees you with Draco is like someone shoved a lemon wedge in her mouth."

Hermione felt her heart sink slightly. She hadn't really thought Ginny was really pleased by Hermione's decision to date Draco but hearing about it was still disheartening.

Pansy's eyebrows had arched sharply upward, and she stopped sneering for the first time that evening. "You're hiding it. Draco doesn't know either, does he?"

Hermione sighed and peeked into a alcove where she'd snogged Draco in on several occasions. "No, he doesn't. I haven't told anyone. It would just make everything more complicated. There isn't—it wouldn't help. If things go south with Draco and we break up, I'll probably tell Harry and Weasleys then. Like I said, I'm not trying to force a relationship that isn't going to work. I don't want dating Draco to feel like ultimatum."

She drew a deep breath and gave Pansy a wan smile. "This might be my last year here. I'm trying to enjoy it. If I start telling people it would strain things. They'd probably act like I was dying. I'm a Muggle-born. It might be unimaginable for Wizarding folk, but I'd rather get an ovariectomy and deal with the likelihood of losing my magic than get forced into a dysfunctional soulbond with someone."