Experience

Sex. . .Malfoy's room was made for it. In fact, the room would probably be disappointed if people didn't have sex while in it. Unlike the musty ruin of a hall outside, this room was in an immaculate condition. It was well-lit, temperate, and smelled of fresh flowers. Hermione was hesitant to look around but Malfoy encouraged her to explore on her own while he watched her. She was alternately impressed and repulsed by what she found.

An overly large king-sized wrought-iron bed stood in the very center of the bedroom. Hermione imagined that she could lay across it sideways and her arms and legs would never touch the edge. It was enfolded in green satin bed curtains embellished with silver serpents. A green satin comforter and satin sheets were draped over the bed. Hermione suspected that no self-respecting Malfoy would sleep on a lesser fabric.

An imposing fireplace which was flanked by two large silver serpents. It was bespelled with a cooling charm of some sort and a cool breeze issued from its depths. The walls were freshly painted and covered in exquisitely detailed murals depicting frolicking nymphs and satyrs in a pastoral scene. They weren't sentient, like Wizard photos, but they were dancing about and making love in the woodsy background. Hermione backed away from the walls after she discovered this bit of information.

Even the small kitchenette had libidinous overtones. The larder was stocked with sexy food. She imagined every bit of it would be consumed by lovers, either before, during, or after lovemaking. There were several bottles of champagne. Hermione had seen bottles of it in a store window while at Hogsmeade, it was nearly a galleon a glass. Containers of ripe strawberries, grapes, and melon were in the keeper. On the top shelf were trays of hand dipped chocolates. Hermione also noted several conspicuous containers of whipped cream. She quickly closed the door, lest temptation strike.

Along the back wall was an entrance to the bathroom. It was overshadowed by a claw-footed marble tub on a raised dais. To the left was a cabinet filled with every conceivable luxury: bath beads, bubble bath, soaps, lotions, and massage oils. A rack on the right contained fluffy white towels and wash cloths. Two hooks on the back of the door held two large white bath robes.

Draco had observed her taking in every small detail with mild amusement. He found her blushes and small exclamations as she discovered things rather alluring. She was very naive in the ways of the world. "Well?" Draco drawled as she stopped her perusal.

"It's. . .it's. . ."she struggled. What was an appropriate response? Seductive? Lecherous? Decadent? It was all those things and more. She bit her lips before she spoke. "I like it."

A wide smile graced his mouth. "I'm glad to hear you say that, Granger." He sauntered over to the refrigerator and opened the door, scrutinizing the shelves with a practiced eye. "What do you fancy? A bit of the bubbly?"

"I don't think so," Hermione replied worriedly. "It's a school night," she hesitated. "And we're out past curfew." She was suddenly nervous and somewhat self-conscious.

Malfoy lifted a bottle of expensive champagne from the fridge. "Honestly! Don't you ever do anything for the hell of it, Granger? Just because you *felt* like it?"

Hermione frowned. "Um, no?"

"Then, its about time you did." Malfoy crossed to the cupboard and pulled out two long champagne flutes. He undid the wire fastening on the bottle and expertly popped the cork out without even disturbing the champagne with in. He filled up the two glasses and walked over to offer her one.

Hermione took it gingerly and gazed at the bubbling foam with a bemused expression. It was certainly pretty and she wanted to know what something that expensive tasted like. She figured that a few sips wouldn't hurt.

"What should we drink to?" Draco asked.

A private smile curved her lips. "To *taking* what we want?"

"Perfect," he replied.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry and Ginny were still laying in each other's arms. She kept pressing kisses to his numb lips and playing with the House symbol on his chest. Normally, this would have driven him wild. Harry had wanted to sleep with Ginny as soon as they started dating but he had held himself at bay out of respect for Ron and eventually out of respect for Ginny. Harry wanted her but he thought she might be "the one", he girl he could spend the rest of his life with. She would be the perfect choice. Not only would Ginny be a wonderful wife, she had a wonderful family too. Nothing would please Harry more than becoming a Weasley by marriage. Ron would be his brother-in-law then and nothing could separate them. . .except Hermione Granger.

Harry felt like he was losing his mind. Hermione was all around him, in his mind, in his heart, in his. . .well, that was another matter. Harry was stunned to discover Ginny's kisses and touches didn't arouse him the way they used to. Sure he felt some desire but not what he usually felt. Besides, Harry felt guilty kissing Ginny while thinking of another. She didn't deserve that and neither did Hermione. "Gin," he whispered, "I think we should stop."

She let out a long-suffering sigh. "Why do you always push me away, Harry?" She buried his face in his chest for a moment and he had to strain to hear her. "I want you." When she looked up, her cheeks were as fiery as her hair. "I know you want me too. So why are we waiting?"

He studied his bedside table as if it were suddenly fascinating to him. "It's complicated, Gin. I mean Ron is my best-"

"I know but *he* is not in this relationship. This is about you and me. I'm a big girl, Harry, and I can make my own decisions."

"I know but *I'm* not ready."

"Oh," she said, swallowing the newly formed lump in her throat. "I-"

"Gin, please don't be upset." He gathered her against his chest, running his hands through her hair. "It's just not the right time. Not yet." Not ever? He didn't know for sure. And while Ginny's hair was perfectly coifed and lustrous, Harry couldn't help but wish the hair in his hands was a wild mass of springy curls that refused to be subdued.

*~*~*~*~*

Hermione tipped the glass to her lips, drinking down the last of her champagne. When she finished, she held out her glass to Draco. "More please!"

"Are you certain?" Draco asked, dubiously. "That's your fourth glass." They were both sitting on his bed, or more accurately, he was sitting and she was draped across the end with a silly smile on her face. They had both discarded their shoes and their outer robes. Both of their ties were loosened and they had rolled up their sleeves.

"Come on, Malfoy! Don't be such. . .such a. . .I don't know what." She hiccuped and then giggled. "Didn't you tell me to do something for the hell of it?"

"Yes, but this wasn't quite what I had in mind when I suggested it," he said ruefully. Draco had only wanted to loosen her up a bit with the champagne and then spend the rest of the evening getting acquainted with her delectable body. She wasn't ready to sleep with him yet, but he was hoping for some petting. Hermione, however, had succumbed to the charms of champagne. She was lying there looking at him with a quirky smile and sparkling eyes and he didn't have the heart to put a stop to her fun. Well, at least she was an adorable lush. He filled her glass up again, the wine was nearly gone.

She took another sip. "This is good stuff." She announced, gazing down into her flute as if it held the secrets of the universe. "How'd they get all those bubbles in there? Magic?"

"Fermentation, I'd imagine," he said dryly.

She took another sip and pondered the taste. "All bubbles and goodness."

"I think we should get a bit of food in you, don't you?"

"The sexy food?"

He chuckled. "Noticed that, did you?" He deposited his glass and the champagne bottle on the floor before crossing to the fridge. "How about some fruit?" he asked thoughtfully. "Strawberries?"

"Hmmph! Strawberries," Hermione harrumphed.

Draco looked over his shoulder at her. "You're angry with the fruit?"

"No, with Ginny!" she said as if he were witless.

"I see," Draco managed, trying not to laugh at her offended tone. He grabbed a box of chocolates instead of the abhorrent berries and hurried back to her side, eager to hear her explanation.

"She's too good for strawberries!" Hermione announced before taking another drink of her champagne. "Won't eat them even when they're offered to her."

"I didn't think poor people could afford them," Draco said as he sat down beside her. His tone was filled with ingrained snobbery.

"That's mean!" she admonished, wagging a finger at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said with mock contrition. "I didn't know that only you could malign the Weasel name."

"Weaselys," she corrected automatically. "And, I'm not angry with Ron. He's a nice boy. He's so sweet and he let me cry on him today and everything. It's his sister, I don't like." She scowled, then. "Ginny is a--a slut!" she announced.

"Thanks for the heads up." Malfoy's lips twitched.

"She has stupid hair too." She was just warming up to this topic. "She's-"

Draco wouldn't let on but he thought he knew what the problem was between Granger and the Weasley chippie. There was obviously something brewing between Potter and Granger. Although, why the fool had waited so long to show an interest in her was a mystery. Draco had observed Hermione's misery while watching Potter carry on with that red haired little nitwit. Malfoy figured he could probably use this bit of information in the future but he couldn't be bothered to discuss tonight. Draco attempted to distract her, "Why don't you have a chocolate?" He plucked a dark chocolate heart from the box.

"Thank you," she said politely and then popped it in her mouth. "Mmm. . ." She closed her eyes, giving free reign to her pleasure. "It's so good. . .and kinda bad too." She licked her lips when she was done, catching the stray bits of cocoa that had been dusted over the confection.

Draco closed his eyes briefly against the stimulating sight. Good god! He'd have to remember to feed her chocolate when she wasn't drunk. "Liked that, did you?" he asked hoarsely. "I know I did."

She attempted a seductive look. "Malfoy, are we going to have, um, sex?" she inquired. "I said sex!" She snickered again.

" Yes, you did and very well too. But, I think we'll wait until you're sober for that," he said with a sigh. "Unfortunately for me."

"Okay," she agreed, taking another drink. She was having a fabulous time with Malfoy. She couldn't form a thought in her head for more than a few moments and it was blissful to be so free of reason. She was utterly content to sip champagne and flirt with Malfoy.

Draco laughed. "Glad we settled that. By the way, don't you think you should call me Draco, since we going to be having sex and all?"

She bit her lip in the most endearing fashion. "I guess so, Mal. . .Draco. And you can call me Hermione. Not Herm-my-oh-knee. Or Herm-oh-ninny," She cautioned. "Hermione."

Draco's lips twitched, not fully understanding why she'd said that but finding it amusing nonetheless. "Well,* Hermione*, I think its time we got you in bed." He reluctantly pulled on his shoes.

"But you said-"

"Your bed, not mine," he amended.

"I want to stay!" she pleaded. "Please?"

"No, you should go to bed. I think you're going to have a nasty hangover in the morning and I don't want to be around for it."

"Now who needs to loosen up?"

Draco gave her a look but it difficult to maintain a strict face.

"Fine, I'll go. . .Draco," she grumbled.

"Can you walk?" Draco quizzed as he stood.

"Of course! I've been walking for years."

He laughed yet again. Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd had this much fun with a girl when they weren't horizontal. Hermione was quite entertaining when she wasn't being Miss Perfect. "Then, give it a whirl."

Hermione scrambled off the bed. She balanced on her feet for a moment, teetering. . . and promptly sunk to the floor. "How did that happen?" she asked, looking at her own legs as if they were alien to her.

"Don't worry, I'm sure your legs will be fine in the morning." He bent down and lifted her in his arms easily. "Ready?"

She was snuggled in his arms and her head was pillowed on his shoulder. She seemed to be admiring him. "You're pretty."

"I think you mean handsome," Draco said with a smile as they walked towards the door.

"Accio clothes!" Hermione called from over his shoulder and her belongings flew into her hands as they approached the door. "Uh oh!" she crowed. "It's Jell-O time!"

Draco looked down at her curiously as they exited the room. They passed through the gelatinous mass that his 'love nest' from the world. "Is that some sort of Muggle term?"

"Yep!" She was studying him again. "Can I touch your hair?"

They were walking rapidly down the corridor now. "Another time. I'm a bit busy at the moment."

Hermione and Draco were silent as he made his way down the dim hallway to the staircases. Draco was focused on observing anything out of the ordinary. After all, the 3rd floor was a dangerous place. Hermione was busy noticing how lovely the cobwebs looked -- they were so shiny. "I need to cast a charm now," he explained as they reached the end of the corridor. He propped her against the wall before he pulled his wand from his pocket. "I don't want Filch to catch us." He murmured, "Concealement!" A shiny substance slid over them and coated the with a translucent haze. It would allow them to pass by others without being noticed. It only lasted an hour, at the most.

"Cool!" she said, admiring her arm which was gleaming.

Draco snickered.

"Why do you keep laughing?" she asked, with wide eyes. "Am I funny?"

"Surprisingly enough, yes." Malfoy chuckled again.

"No one else thinks I'm funny," Hermione pointed out.

"Then, everyone else you know is an idiot."

"Nah," she scoffed. It was all the debate she was capable of at the moment. "Can I touch your hair now?" It was so long that it brushed his shoulder blades. "Pretty please?"

"All right," he said as he obligingly bent down so that the she could run her fingers through it.

"Mmm. . .you have nice hair. It's all soft."

He straightened once more with one silver brow quirked. "Yes, and other parts of me are hard."

"Which parts of you?" Hermione said with a coy look in her eye.

"I'll show you later." He hoisted her back up in his arms. "For now, I think we better get *your* 'witch parts' back in bed."

*~*~*~*~*

Hermione and Draco made their way to her room without incident. They hadn't even passed Filch. All of Gryffindor House was in bed so they had encountered any problems in the dorms. They paused before the portrait that led to her bedroom. It was a painting of a young red-haired woman who was dressed in a Victorian gown and sitting beside a tranquil-looking lake. "Password?" she asked.

"Hermione?" Draco prompted. He hoped she remembered her password.

She leaned forward, peering at the young girl in an annoyed fashion. "You have stupid hair too."

The girl gasped in outrage. "Well, that was rude!"

Hermione hiccuped.

"Are you foxed?!" The painting girl demanded as she stalked to the edge of the painting. "I'm telling! I know the Fat Lady and she knows-"

"Her place," Malfoy interrupted. "It would be a shame if something happened to your portrait. It could be burned, broken, or ripped into tiny little unrecognizable shreds that would be impossible to piece back together. " He said this in deceptively casual tone as if he were discussing the weather.

The red haired girl gulped and backed away from them. The portrait swung open to admit them.

When they were safely on the other side, Hermione beamed at him. "Thank you!"

"For what?" he asked as he gently laid her down on her bed. He sat down beside her, up against her hip to gaze down into her face.

"For tonight," she answered honestly. "I had a good time."

"Me too," he admitted.

"And thank you for threatening my portrait. She was rude."

"Uppity little water color girl," Draco griped.

He attempted to stand up but she forestalled him by putting a hand on his arm. "Can I have a goodnight kiss?"

"On the forehead."

She gave him a girlish pout. "Why not?"

"Even *I* have scruples, Hermione, especially when it comes to seducing virgin lushes." He bent down and kissed her forehead gently. Then, he placed his mouth against her ear, "Don't get to used it though. When you've got your wits about you, I'll shag you bow-legged." He nipped her earlobe before he drew away.

Hermione grinned up at him as his handsome face came into view. "Promise?"

"I never break *those* kind of promises." He winked at her before he sauntered towards the exit. "G'night, Hermione."

She rolled over, sighing contentedly. "Goodnight, Draco."

*~*~*~*~*~

Harry sat at one of the rounded tables in the Divination classroom. The walls were decorated with astrological symbols, display cases of colorful Wizard tarot decks, tea sets, and pentacles. Professor Trelawney was seated at a desk in the front, goggling at her students. Harry grimaced when he saw the pair of chicken feet she wore as a necklace around her twig-like neck. Her eyes appeared to be as wide as tennis balls behind her enormous glasses which were balanced precariously on her minuscule nose. She was evidently very pleased with herself which, naturally, made the students nervous.

Every now and then Harry would glance up from his parchment paper to see if Hermione had come in yet. They both had Divination first this semester and he was hoping to have a chance to speak with her before class started. Hermione had missed breakfast this morning but no one at Gryffindor table seemed to know why. Harry was eager to see her, more eager than a friend should be to see his "pal". He hadn't felt like this sort of nervous excitement in quite a while. This feeling used to come over him before he would see a crush. Harry felt as if he shouldn't let himself give in to it, but it was irresistible and he found himself in a state of agonized anticipation.

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said, coming up from behind him.

"Hermione!" Harry nearly jumped out of his chair. He coughed to clear his throat. "Why weren't you at breakfast this morning?"

"Oh, er, I had a headache. . . and a stomachache too," she prevaricated, as she seated herself opposite him. She didn't think he'd respond well to the news that she'd gotten drunk in Malfoy's bed.

"Are you ill? Do you need to see Madame Pomfrey? Because, I'll walk you down there," Harry offered.

She smiled at his concern. "I've already been over to see her and I'm fine, I promise. She made me drink down an awful potion that tasted like weeds and gave me a powder to mix with my tea at lunch. She said what I really need is more sleep." Of course, Hermione hadn't told her that these mysterious aches and pains were brought on by imbibing too much champagne.

"What you need is a little pampering." Harry thought a moment. "Maybe you should take the day off. I could take care of you. Bring you a couple of magazines, some juice, chicken soup--"

"Harry," Hermione interrupted. "I don't think that's. . ." What? Appropriate? It certainly wasn't. That was something a boyfriend did for a girlfriend. "Necessary."

Harry sighed. "I know but I can't seem to stop, Hermione."

"It'll get better between us, Harry. It has too." Hermione smiled wanly.

"Fine, let's talk to each other like we're friends," Harry said determinedly. That was nearly impossible because of the dizzying affect of her presence and his fascination with her mouth -- it was just so kissable. "So, did you see Malfoy?" Harry asked in a decidedly casual voice.

"Do you really want to know?" she asked. Hermione couldn't tell him an absolute lie. If she did, it would create a tangle of lies that would destroy their friendship. Omitting things to keep the peace was a different matter entirely.

"Yes, I do." His hands were clenching the underside of the table.

She sighed. Here goes nothing! "Then, yes, I did see Malfoy. I spent most of the night with him," Hermione confessed.

The very thought of her and Malfoy together made his blood boil. "And did you sleep with him?" he asked tightly.

"No," she answered. "End of questions, Harry."

"But-"

"No, that's enough." she whispered, fearful that someone else would hear them. "I'm your friend, Harry, not your girlfriend. You already have one of those, remember?"

"Right. Ginny." She suddenly felt like a burden to him. Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "Hermione, just so you know. . .?"

She looked up.

"I don't approve."

"Harry" she grumbled. "You don't even know him really well. He's actually kind of sweet sometimes. And he's funny too!"

"Looking? I'd have to say yes."

Hermione blinked. "Wow, that was a clever comeback," she said sarcastically.

"See?" Harry hissed. "He's already being a bad influence! You wouldn't have said anything like that to me before you started kissing that p-"

Professor Trelawney cleared her throat to gain their attention. "I'm sorry this class was postponed until my return but, believe me, it was worth it!" she warbled. "I spent the entire summer with a Gypsy clan. They were the most gifted seers I've had the pleasure to work with," she smiled broadly. "Except for myself, of course."

Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes.

"For example," she picked up the chicken feet necklace around her neck and shook it at the classroom. "These are capable of foretelling the future. Simply cut off the toes and. . ." The students turned a little green. "Sorry, dears. Only a true clairvoyant could appreciate my work. Anyway, I was particularly fascinated with their attention to dream casting, or foretelling future events via dreams. So, we are going to take a page from their book this semester, and interpret each other's dreams." She gestured with her wand. "Distributez!" A silver arc sprung from her wand and deposited baskets of beads, wood, and leather strips on every occupied table. "You will all be making something called a dream catcher. They are sold to Muggles as wall hangings but they have the actually ability to capture your dreams -- provided, of course, that you are a Witch and Wizard. I got these supplies from Professor Sleeping Dove at the American school, Harridans who gave me some instructions on how to uise them. Lovely man, he's a Lakota Shaman whom -- well, never mind. You will all weave your own dream catchers and use them to capture your dreams at night. Remember, as you weave, you must infuse a bit your own magic into the threads."

The class groaned collectively.

"Great we have gym class . .excuse me, self-defense, and now we have arts and crafts." Hermione whispered to Harry.

"See? Sarcasm!" Harry retorted.

She briefly stuck her tongue out at him, feeling as if she'd used the time turner to return to preschool.

Harry's eyes locked on her mouth, his eyes darkening to a smoky green. "I'd put that away if I were you or I won't be responsible for my own actions."

Hermione, caught up in the moment, leaned across the table and stuck her tongue out again.

"Close your eyes," he said gruffly.

Confused but curious, Hermione put her tongue back in her mouth and closed her eyes obligingly. Harry pulled the wand from his robe and shouted, "Immobulous!" Everyone in the classroom was momentarily stunned by the red arc that shot out of his wand.

Hermione was horrified."Harry that's-"

She never got a chance to finish her sentence. Harry was out of his seat, across the table, and on her before she could say anything. He kissed her in a frenzied manner, as if he wished to devour her. . .all heat and passion. All he could think about was her and this moment. He'd never wanted anyone. . .anything as much as her.

Hermione moaned into his mouth and held on to her seat, literally, for dear life.

Finally, Harry pulled away. He was gasping for air. "Can't. . .can't say I didn't warn you."

She shook her head, still dizzy.

There were some faint movements behind them as some of the students began to stir. Harry had enough sense to scramble across the table and get in his seat before the charm wore off completely.

Everyone slowly came out of their stupor. The other students were rubbing their eyes and blinking. Professor Trelawney shook her head muzzily. "What was that?"

"Cornish pixie," Harry lied. "Sorry about that. I had to stun the class so I could get rid of him."

"Oh," she managed, still in daze. "Er, thank you, Mr. Potter. Where did he go?"

"We tossed him out the window, Professor," Hermione said, backing Harry's story up. She was probably going to hell for this -- a special hell reserved for prefects who lied to their professors and kissed their very nearly affianced best friends.

Professor Trelawney continued on. "Alright then. What was I saying? Oh yes, I do not want you to interpret your own dreams. Often, we can not find the hidden meaning or power in our own dreams. You will share your dreams with your partner. These dream catchers are ingenious little objects, they will collect your dreams in the little beads threaded through the center of the hoop. To experience someone else's dream, you pluck a bead from their catcher and place it on your own!"

Harry blanched. If Hermione knew the kind of fevered dreams he'd been having about her, she'd never speak to him again. They were graphic encounters that made him stain his sheets and wake up gasping for air. He surreptitiously glanced at her and saw that she was already pissed off about the little stunt he'd just pulled. What would she say when she got to experience his lust in technicolor with 3D surround sound?

She kicked his shin under the table - hard.

"Bloody. Everlasting. Hell," Harry said succinctly.