Having Fun With The Devil

"Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here, Granger," he snarled. Sixteen year old Draco Malfoy stood there in black robes, standing against the nearby tree in his usual egotistical posture, his legs slightly apart, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets, and his eyebrows raised with a small trademark smirk on his face.

"I am ecstatic to see you here also, Malfoy," an over sarcastic sixteen year old Hermione Granger replied coldly. She was sitting on the grass, and unlike the cool set position Malfoy had chosen to enclose, she looked dreadfully peaceful, her robes folded neatly beside her on the ground, the lake's small waves collaring it's aura. She was wearing a small spaghetti strapped dress that was drenching in the light delicate color of baby blue, and small petticoats underneath, which revealed sights of lavender. Her hair, which was often extremely bushy and not brushed, looked better somehow today, and it was slightly curled, although Malfoy obviously did not fail to observe the fact that it only looked curled because of it's messy tendencies of tangles.

"Ah, well you have to love me."

"I think not. Exactly what are you planning to do here? I have special permission from Professor McGonagall to be here and take notes on certain rare and rather unique sea creatures that lay upon this very lake, and I do despise the fact if I have to have you for company," she said this all very quickly and rather snappishly.

"Crabbe, Goyle and I are having a fashion show, and we were thinking this would be a great setting for the swimsuit competition, I mean, Crabbe's crazy about showing off his bikini this lovely morning," Draco said sarcastically. Hermione gave a involuntary shiver, to his meek satisfaction.

"You can't go rummaging nearby the lake during classes, Malfoy. It's called skipping, and skipping is not allowed. I will have to report this to Professor Snape or otherwise. Now you should leave and save yourself further trouble," Hermione said, glaring down at a piece of parchment she was scribbling down on.

"Of course, I forgot our little wonder mudblood here is running for Head Girl next year. Good luck, of course, Professor McGonagall will surely give you the chance, since you two are both bright lovers."

Hermione bit her lip, not quite knowing what to say. Pretending not to know of his presence, she went back to looking at the water and scribbling down further notes.

"Look up when I speak to you, Granger, you filthy little thing. Surely you're clever enough for a suitable comeback, are you not? No need, however. You and your family won't last long enough for your seventh year at Hogwarts. I bet the lovely death eaters are dying to meet you," he murmured joyfully.

"How dare you!" Hermione dropped her things and stood up, brushing the dirt away from her ankles, giving Draco the chance to admire the creamy flesh of her long legs.

"Oh, what're you going to do, mudblood? Not going to fight me, now are you? Don't be a bitch, you silly little girl. My family has taught me the best dark arts that even your smarts can't beat."

"Who the hell said anything about wands?" she snapped through gritted teeth. Her eyes were flashing angrily, and two patches of red were glowing on her cheeks, giving her a furious expression.

"Oh feisty, are we?"

She glared.

Draco laughed, and then looked at her up and down, causing her to wince slightly as his mere observation. He was obviously getting too much of an eyeful, rather along the bosom area.

"Wouldn't want to hurt your small frail figure," he said innocently. "However...there are many other enjoyable things to do with it."

"You sick little bastard!" she screamed, and got ready to slap him. He caught it lazily, his nails digging into her skin. She shrieked, whimpering as he did not let go of the painful clutch of embrace.

He grinned, liking his overpower on her. It made him feel big, dangerous. He caught both her awaiting fists in his hands, and pressed her against him, wrapping his arms around her to prevent her from getting away.

"Poor little mudblood bitch. You should know not to mess with me. You'll never win, your just Potter's little wrench of a whore. How much for your services anyway? You can give my money to Weasel," he said, roaring with laughter.

She struggled against him, but instead fell further in his chest, and eventually they both fell on the grass. She was taking this chance to get off of him and gather up her things when she felt a sudden striking prick in her backside. Squealing, she let go of her things and turned around, and saw Draco had gotten up once again, and he was waving his fingernails threateningly.

Hermione took the chance. She was still infuriated by his cruel insults and obscene gestures toward her sexuality and she was pissed off. She kicked him in his groin, and he fell backwards, groaning.

She was about to laugh when she heard the sudden rip of paper. She looked around and saw that all the notes that she had spent hours on taking were shredding right in front of her eyes, in his hands. From two's to quarters, and small little pieces, he crumbled them up, so Hermione found no spell to make them repair once more, because he had deprived the ink, too, which was now smudged and stained. She screamed, her hands waving to her face.

"No! Please, stop! No, I spent hours on it, and weeks planning, oh God," Hermione said, and felt the lump in her throat rise and her eyes began to water. No way was she going to cry in front of him, but she obviously had no choice. Her five page essay that she had worked hard on correcting was being ripped up.

He laughed, and pushed the papers into the air, so that they floated upon her face, flying slowly to the ground.

"Professor McGonagall, she's going to kill me..." she managed to mutter, before her cheeks were pouring with tears.

Draco had surprisingly stopped laughing, and looking sour again.

"Forget it, it's just some damn schoolwork, Granger," he said, looking awkward.

"Just some damn schoolwork? You little mother fucker! You stupid, son of a cocksucking bitch! I spent hours, weeks, organizing everything just because I wanted extra credit! How dare you!" she hollered, her arms crossed over her chest as she cried.

"Look, just forget it," he said softly. She appeared not to hear him, for she was now sitting cross legged on the grass, her hands over her face, her arms shaking. He rolled his eyes and began to walk away.

"This isn't over, Malfoy," she heard her weak call.

"Whatever."

---

This wasn't over yet. Oh no, they had begun this, and they were going to end this, fair and square. Hermione wiped her tears away, grinding her teeth together. All the anger, the helplessness she had felt for years was building, and she was imagining terrible things to get Malfoy killed. It was awful, evil, yes, but nobody deserved to die painfully and burn in hell for years to come than him.

He was going to pay, yes. He was going to pay like a weak, withering little son of a bitch. She smiled, the plan forming evilly into her mind. Oh yes, it was war.

---

Dear Draco,

You haven't taken any time answering my letters nor your mother's. You think Hogwarts will keep you safe, boy? Not a chance, not a chance, not while the greatest dark sorcerer of them all is still out there in hiding. You shall not ignore me forever, son. Make sure to sign up for going home from Christmas, I will not stand your bastardly ways this year. You must be ready for the Dark Lord when the time is right. Remember, you need to study your dark arts much faster this year, by the end of this year, you will have the dark mark imprinted on your arm, and I don't want anything but obedience to the Dark Lord from you, you hear me, boy?

Cordially yours,

Lucius Malfoy

Draco Malfoy's face turned into a scowl upon reading the hastily written note, and he simply folded it and placed it on his dresser. He examined his new private dorm, the one he just arrived in just today. His father had paid well so that the current Prefect would sleep in another room while Draco occupy this one. It would make well for his late night adventures. It was not small, but not huge either. Decorated in silver and green, his house colors, there was a large queen size bed, covered with silk green sheets, and silver curtains. His other valuables looked the same, the same color, except one red colored picture frame kept away in the tuck of his clothes contained a small mini-sized picture of a frowning girl with curly brown hair and hazel eyes. Her arms were folded across her chest, and she had an expressionless face on, her shirt the color of simple white. Draco felt that it was the only thing that had sentimental value in the dorm, and he kept it hidden away from the rest, so nothing could harm it.

He opened the second letter slowly, as if he was capturing the moment. The letter was small, slim, and a piece of parchment colored in lavender, and it smelled of a faint color of rose. He smiled, she always put perfume on her parchment, it was like everything else she owned. Fancy, and lovingly fragranced.

Dear Draco,

I am to have tea at your mother's this evening. Did you tell her to do so? You know it would not make me happy to have your sour faced mother for company, Drake. You really should come home for Christmas, I am going to Paris with my parents this weekend, and maybe if you work things out, you can organize a portkey to spend time with me there. We'll be staying at that small hotel that you love. I have something very important to tell you, and I need to tell you in person. You have to promise not to freak out.

All my love,

Sarah S. Hatenzel

---

Dear Mione,

Your father and I are very lonely without you. You don't spend much time writing to your old parents, now do you? How is Harry, and Ron? Well, we hope. We hope your getting nicely along with your studies, but of course, you always do. What we really wanted to ask you, sweetie, is if you're going to come home for Christmas. Jenny is engaged again, and she wants to spend time with you before she leaves for California with Emma. Emma just celebrated her third birthday, and we really miss you. Things are too much too hassle. I know Jennifer and you are not on bright terms, but please come for Christmas and try to get along with your sister and her daughter. Emma misses her Aunt Hermione.

Love,

Mum & Dad

(P.S. Haden says hi and much more)

Hermione smiled at the last little note, and felt her face go crimson red. Haden. Perfect, sixteen year old Haden who she loved Haden. He was a muggle, and was growing to work to be a doctor. Luckily, he lived on Hermione's block back home, and they spent the summer together, and grew up to be amazingly connected friends, with one hitch. Hermione was in love with him. Hermione quickly scribbled back a note to her parents.

Dear Mum & Dad,

Tell Jenny to go to hell. Frankly, I don't give a damn if she's engaged again. Didn't I tell her before not to marry Devon the first time, and now she's probably fallen head over heels for another man that's just going to knock her up and leave her. I am really sick of this, and I want to spend time alone on Christmas, which means I'll be staying with Harry. Give Emma my love and tell her to run while she can, that mother's of hers is a complete idiot.

Love,

Mione

(P.S. tell Haden I can't wait to see him in the summer! And wish him a happy early Christmas!)

She harshly folded it up and stuck it in a envelope, and sprayed it with faint perfume that smelled of apples. It was sort of her trademark. She tied a small, green bow around it to symbolize Christmas, and left it on her desk. When it was time to go to sleep, she would spend time at the Owlery and send the letter. She took a deep breath and smiled at the second letter. It was folded slowly and neatly, and was tied with a red string.

Dear Hermione,

I have wonderful news. I am in love. Now I know you're probably gaping right now, since you thought old Haden was too stuck up to be in love *wink*. This girl is...she is just perfect. She's funny, cute, outgoing, and wild. She's so smart, like you, Herm, but she knows how to have fun. Her name's Clarissa, and she takes the same classes with me, and she wants to be a successful woman as a lawyer when she grows up, but she also wants to have a fun job on the side. She's seventeen, and I know what your thinking, I shouldn't date an older woman. But she really likes me, and we're going to go out this weekend. I am thinking of dinner at Sheridan's, the cute little restaurant you and I go to all the time. Well, let me know what you think.

Hoping to see you soon,

yours truly,

Haden

---

The morning started out quickly, Draco's dim witted friends, Crabbe and Goyle gobbled down their food and asked for more rapidly, while Draco sat there, forking his food and looking down at it dully. He found it disinteresting, and his gaze wandered over to the Gryffindor table and he smirked. Granger, it seemed, was thoroughly upset this morning. Her friend, Draco's nemesis, Harry, was rubbing her neck encouragingly, and was whispering to her in a soothing voice while she shook her head vividly.

He watched intently as she got up from the table, gathering her things and leaving the Great Hall. His curiosity got the better of him, and he slowly got up, ignoring the Slytherins. Was that mudblood bitch still over her head over the stupid homework he had ripped up? Pathetic, he thought, retracing her steps. He paused as he saw her figure go into a deserted classroom, used for storage of old potions and cauldrons.

Draco tried the knob and easily went in. Darkness flooded his vision, but he closed the door softly, he saw Granger standing there, her back to him, her arms crossed over her chest, staring into nothing. He smirked and walked quietly behind her, and grabbed her by the waist.

She shrieked in surprise, and turned around to glare at him.

"Malfoy," she noted in disgust. "Come to torture me a bit more, have you? Get a life."

"I have a life, and you should know better than to show your weak insults to me, Granger. I was merely here to get something from here," he lied.

"Oh yeah, sure. I'm very doubtful. What do you need?" she challenged him.

"A six inch pewter spare cauldron colored in black, if you have it," he coolly stated.

She squinted her eyes at him, but after a moment of observation, she looked around and shook her head. "We don't have that. You have to ask one of the professors. That cauldron is used strictly for dark arts that we don't learn 'till seventh year."

"Whatever. What the hell are you doing in here, Granger?"

"That, in fact, is none of your damn business, Malfoy. Now go shag Crabbe or something. I have work to do in here. Or did you forget when you completely damaged my work yesterday afternoon?"

She didn't wait for a response, because she didn't get a proper one. He pulled her against him and pressed his lips against hers. Mouthing wordlessly in shock, he took the chance to slide his tongue over her bottom lip. The kiss was priceless, however, when he pressed further into her body, she pushed him away with her hands, drying her wet lips with the back of her hand.

"What are you doing, Malfoy? What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem, Granger, is that I'd rather shag you than Crabbe." He said this clearly, bluntly and smoothly, smugly. The trademark smirk of his flickered on his face when she came closer, and placed her hands on his hips.

She leaned forward, her lips inches away from his.

"Oh really? Well I'd rather shag Crabbe and Goyle at the same time before shagging you, Malfoy," she whispered, pressing her lower body against his just for a moment so they were brushing against each other before she let go of him and proceeded to the door.

"By the way, Malfoy...I am getting you back for my homework. You won't like to mess with me after this."

With that, she shut the door.

Click.

And locked it.

Draco Malfoy was locked in the storage room, all by himself.

---

"I am saying this one more time. What is the damn password to the Slytherin Common Room?"

The little girl squirmed in Hermione's grip.

"Fine! Fine! This week's password is Stupid Mudblood."

Hermione snorted in disgust. "Oh, how original," she snarled, and let go of the girl, handing her a box of candy.

She stepped in front of the painting and said the password, and the door swung open to admit her. She looked around at the identical common room, that was in a green and silver decor with a little bit of red and black. She looked around, and finally concluded that it was deserted. She knew she had to be fast, and find Draco's dorm. There wasn't much time left before Draco found out how to magic the door to the storage room open.

Hermione walked through the common room, and found a small door near the end of the staircase, which was painted in curly letters to say Prefect's Dorm.

She turned the knob, and walked in. This was un-doubtfully Draco's dorm. It was covered in silver and green all over. Wondering how Draco could ever become a prefect, she opened the drawers of the dresser he owned and took out all of his clothes, splattering them on the floor. She went through them, her heart beating against her ribs painfully. The fear of getting caught was quite anxious, but exhilarating. Hermione finally found what she was looking for. Boxers, in the color of red, green and silver. She grinned, and took something from out of her pocket. It was a red permanent marker, magicked so that it was impossible to get off, even by wizarding standards.

She took the first pair of boxers which was silver and began writing.

I fuck trees.

Oh yes, payback was going to be a fun little bitch.

---

"What in the bloody hell is this?"

Draco Malfoy was staring around at his room, and he was awestruck. Underwear and other clothes were thrown all over the place, personal items strewn upon the bed. If he was a girl, he'd shriek and squeal and break into pieces, but Draco Malfoy was not one to be made a fool out of.

Sighing in shock, he picked up his silver boxers, which had been paid for and imprinted the Slytherin Serpent by his own father. He made a noise of anger, for in the back, was written in clear, red words were:

I fuck trees.

Who had done this? Who the fuck in this world had been brave enough to challenge a Malfoy? Ruin his property, and trespass on everything his father had paid so much for? It was not likely to be a Slytherin, for most feared him, and it certainly wasn't any of the Slytherin Girls, because they worshipped him beyond control because of his Godly tendencies in bed. And besides, they were too stupid and not careful to create such a mess and not leave any evidence.

Was there any evidence? It seemed whoever the intruder was had something harsh against him and was very clever indeed.

Groaning, he grabbed his wand from the drawer and whipped it around lazily.

"Rependo!"

Clothes were starting to rise and they placed themselves neatly together in a bundle in the middle of the floor.

"Crespanio!"

This spell did not have much effect at all. The stains and written words upon his clothes merely looked drenched, and the color was now dripping on the sides of clothing.

He bit his lip, and started picking them up and folding them by hand. This was house elf work! Whoever did this was going to pay, and pay big they were. Nobody messed with a Malfoy and got away with it!

As he folded the clothes and put them neatly in drawers, he sniffed the air suspiciously.

It smelled of something different, not of Draco's faint cologne as it usually smelled like. No, this scent was entirely different, and it smelled of fresh apples. He found this smell oddly familiar, a perfume of some kind, clearly belonging to a girl's. As he sniffed throughout his room, the enticing smell of it became clearer as he walked. A grin started to spread through his face...

---

Dear Haden,

Hermione tapped her quill against her chin, thinking. What would she write? What could she write? The boy she had fallen in love with during the summer after her 5th year was in love with someone else! Someone else who was smarter, prettier, and older, and spunkier than her. What had she done so wrong to deserve this?

You're in love, huh? That's great, buddy!

She made a cringing face and crossed that sentence out. That's great buddy? It sounded extremely homosexual! She couldn't write anything like that, it would seem too obvious. Haden was working up to become a doctor, for heaven's sakes, he was not one to be fooled. She continued, starting with a fresh new piece of parchment.

Dear Haden,

I'm really glad you're doing good back home. Things are fine here. Clarissa seems like a nice enough girl, I think you chose well. I won't be home for Christmas, I'd like to stay here for a while. With my friends. I hope you're doing well, and I hope you have a happy Christmas. With Clarissa.

Love from

Hermione

There, she thought as she folded up the letter and stuck it inside the letter to her parents. Since Haden knew nothing of the Wizarding World, he was told that Hermione was going to a private boarding school in Long Island, and Hermione knew she could trust her parents enough to give the letter straight to him. Spraying another layer of her apple scented perfume, she wrapped another ribbon around the two letters and set off to the Owlery.

---

Dear Father,

I will be ready.

-Draco

Dear Sarah,

You know how bratty mothers can be. Sorry I can't come this weekend. Perhaps it will be better if I come next weekend? I want to hear what important thing you have to tell me. I'm doing well in school, and Father thinks I should get the Dark Mark soon. You want to know what's been going on here? Well, not much. I ripped up this mudblood's homework, and she got all pissed off and trashed my private room here. That's all so far. I miss you, I've only slept with Pansy and this dumb Hufflepuff girl since we got here. You know, these people need to learn how to fuck, they have poor skills. You, Sarah, are so much more compared to them.

I look forward to seeing you next weekend,

Cordially yours,

Draco L. Malfoy

Draco took the letters and folded it up. His owl, Daren, was up in the Owlery, eating. Snorting in disgust, he stuffed the letters in his robes and reluctantly looking around his room, he shut the door behind him, placing a locking charm as he left.

---

Hermione looked around, observing the owls. A rather darling owl that was pure black with white highlights flew around her head, and she noticed that the owl had a small green ribbon placed strategically on it's collar. She grabbed the owl slowly and patted it on it's head, smiling at it. She looked at the ribbon, it was pure emerald and as she looked closely, she saw a silver snake imprinted upon the nape.

Before she could figure out what it meant, she heard footsteps behind her, and someone say, "Granger, get your filthy hands off my owl."

She whipped around and was so surprised that she let the owl go, and it flew over to Draco in an instant, perching itself upon his finger. She observed him, a frown on her face. He was wearing black robes, a green scarf, and his hair wasn't slicked back, but thrown in a messy manner. He was glaring at her in disgust and she smiled sweetly at him. He obviously hadn't forgotten the hours he spent stuck in the storage room when she had locked him in.

"Sorry, Dray-co, didn't know that darling owl was yours," she said, grinning.

He looked at her strangely, and she stood there as he pinned two small parchments into the owl's beak. He whispered something to the raven owl and patted it softly on it's head. The owl obeyed and flew across the room and out a nearby window.

"Rare owl, it is. A Collerby, I presume? That's a beautiful one, mostly they're white, but little precious Daddy wanted to get the best for Draky, eh?" Granger seemed to be in a delightful mood, Draco noted bitterly.

"Glad you're enjoying my misery, Granger. Really, don't you think it's a bit harsh to mess up my property when I ripped up some stupid assignment of yours?"

Her smile flickered slightly, but widened slowly as he glared at her.

"Stupid? I don't care what you accuse me of, Malfoy. But my work isn't stupid. In fact, it's rather clever. More clever than yours. I bet Daddy Dearest was surprised when a little mudblood beat you in every exam?" she said innocently.

His glared tightened and he walked toward her. She watched nervously as he took hold of her shoulders and pushed her against the wall. Pain surfaced in her back, but he didn't seem to notice. Draco pressed against her grimly and planted his forehead over his.

"Listen, here, you little bitch, you. Nobody messes with a Malfoy and gets away with it. Nobody. I don't give a damn if you're top in the class, the fact that I'll have the pleasure killing you and your parents soon speaks for itself," he spat.

Hermione squirmed at his tight grip, but he didn't let go. Instead, he moved his face slightly toward hers so that their lips were inches away from each other. Hermione took an intake of her breath as he lowered his lips.

She could feel Draco's bottom lip brushing against her top one, and she quivered slightly. Closing her eyes on instinct, she relaxed in his tight embrace, unwillingly enjoying the feeling of his toned chest pressed hard against her bosom.

"Does the little mudblood like this?" he whispered mockingly at her. Hermione kept her eyes closed as she felt his fingers explore her sides. She whimpered as she felt something hard pressing against her hips.

"Well it seems you certainly do," Hermione replied, still keeping her eyelids closed. Her nose was on the bridge of his cheek, and their lips were almost touching. She knew with one single movement, her and Malfoy would be kissing. And what scared her the most, was that she actually wanted the movement to happen. Leaning forward an inch, their lips brushed against each other, and she felt Draco take a painful breath. She scrunched up her forehead in confusion. What the hell was wrong with him?

Letting all thoughts swim away from her head, she put her hands on her neck and pulled him closer.

---

Stupid mudblood, he thought loathingly. Even though he hated her to his every being, he had to admit she was damn hot, and the thing that turned him on the most was that she was completely humbled by it. She was one of the few Gryffindors that actually bothered to wear her robes properly, and she hid that sweet little body inside those insane clothes. The thought wanted to make him rip them off of her. The fact that they were sworn enemies since their first year, and they were in opposite houses and that this was forbidden gave Draco a chill of excitement he had never felt with Sarah, that forbidding feeling that plunged into his body.

Sarah, he suddenly remembered, he took a painful breath. He saw Granger's face scrunch up in puzzlement before she pulled him towards her, kissing him. The fragrance of apples reached his nostrils, and he felt himself getting drowsy. He scowled at himself for being such a cunt. How could he just lose control over a stupid mudblood? But she's quite hotter than you expected, another voice said in her head. Her thigh was clinging to his hip now, and she was pressing hard against him. Her lips weren't that bad either, how they seemed to pay attention to small corners of his flesh and make him want more. Her lips left off of his, and he started to protest, but felt her fingertip stop him.

Granger's lips were now slipping past his chin and onto his neck. Her lips were brushing so timidly against his skin that he grabbed a hold of her brown curls in case the loss of control seemed to happen. He vaguely recalled that she was unbuttoning his shirt, and he stopped her. She gaped at him in surprise, but her mouth went down when he pressed his lips against hers again. She gave in, holding onto him tightly for support of balance. One hand was wandering around her backside, and one was placed firmly on her ribcage, going upward and downward.

Hermione gave what was un-mistakenly a small moan, and her knee was now placed between his knees. It happened so fast that they were unable to stop it. The door to the Owlery opened suddenly, and they both pulled away from each other quickly.

The intruder was a small fifth year Hufflepuff girl, the one that Draco had slept with in the beginning of the term. She shot him a suspicious glance, but all she did was take a small white colored owl from the selection and left.

"That, was close," breathed Hermione.

"Yeah, really close," Draco said, a small smirk placed on his lips.

---

The beautiful girl tugged strings of hair out of her way, and set down to read her lover's latest letter. Her eyes darted toward the last words.

You want to know what's been going on here? Well, not much. I ripped up this mudblood's homework, and she got all pissed off and trashed my private room here. That's all so far. I miss you, I've only slept with Pansy and this dumb Hufflepuff girl since we got here. You know, these people need to learn how to fuck, they have poor skills. You, Sarah, are so much more compared to them.

I look forward to seeing you next weekend,

Cordially yours,

Draco L. Malfoy

Sarah snorted in disgust. Cordially yours? What ever happened to love, yours truly, sincerely, even? Sarah however, was flattered that she bedded Draco better than other girls. She took a pen out and ripped off a pink piece of paper from her stationary and began writing back.

---

Hermione was only aware that Draco Malfoy was snogging her.

"Draco," she said, pushing him away and wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "We - I have - we have to stop."

"What the fuck?" he exclaimed, looking at her hungrily. She looked away, and felt him pull her into his arms again. As soon as his lips touched hers again, she lost all the control she had managed to regain. She felt herself being pulled into a hard surface of the floor, and she heard Draco whisper something that sounded oddly like "I'd rather fuck you than trees."

---

Dear Draco,

This is a very hard letter for me to write. Perhaps it shouldn't be written at all. But I need to tell you this. I can't wait for next weekend, this needs to be said right now. I am pregnant. Your mother knows, I told her during our tea. I wanted to tell you before, but I couldn't stand it. I can't wait to see you again.

(P.S., I'm flattered I am a better fuck than those two girls. And that mudblood sounds like a bitch. I'll take care her if you want me to.)

"Cordially yours",

Sarah H.

---

It had been two weeks since the incident at the Owlery, and Draco and Hermione had been avoiding each other. Hermione was busy studying for exams, while Draco did his usual strut around the school and earned unfair points for Slytherin from Snape. As Hermione read her schedule, she groaned aloud. Double Potions with the Slytherins. It was a nightmare waiting to happen. Ever since her lips had been placed on Draco's, she couldn't forget the rush of feelings that had exploded inside her, causing her to squirm every so often. She hated Draco, loathed him to his very being, and didn't want to have a crush on him. All the years that he had taunted her about being muggleborn were far too much to forgive and forget. She wished she could strangle him, and laugh while he died. But, she wanted to kiss him also. It was a slight dilemma that not even drowning herself in studying could cure. Every time she woke up in the morning, she went to breakfast and had a nagging suspicion that someone was watching her. However, when her glance went to the Slytherin table, Draco seemed to be occupied with his food. Was she just being paranoid? Or did her subconscious really want to catch Malfoy staring at her?

The answer came in Potions. Ron and Harry were walking beside her, and she wasn't listening to a word they were saying. She was looking around, feeling a stare at the back of her neck. Shrugging the thought off, she continued walking to class, and managed to hear clips of conversation.

"So, Hermione and I will ...."

"What?" she turned her attention to her friends, were talking excitedly to each other.

"We were just finalizing the plans. Harry's going to be with Sarah at Hogsmeade, so I thought we could go together," said Ron, giving her a half smile. She widened her eyes, turning away, a silent dread growing in her stomach. Hermione knew very well Ron had feelings for her, but she had gotten over her silly crush on him in their fifth year, however, it was obvious that Ron hadn't.

"Hermione? You agree right?"

Hermione looked at him, finally managing a wide smile.

"Of course, Ron. We'll have fun," she said. His ears turned red, and he grinned back at her, going back to talking to Harry. She sighed softly, and was thinking about excuses not to go when there was a tap on her shoulder.

---

Draco Malfoy was vaguely aware that ever since their make out session, Granger seemed hesitant to talk to him. Of course, it wasn't like he wanted to talk to her, it just annoyed him when girls thought they could dump him. That's my job, he thought smugly to himself. He glanced lazily at his schedule, and saw that next was Double Potions with Gryffindors. He grinned. Perfect. That little mudblood Granger couldn't avoid him then. As he was walking to class, he saw the famous trio walking across the halls. Catching up with him, he walked softly behind them, trying to hear bits of conversation.

"I thought we could go together," Weasley was saying. Draco stopped for a second, before regaining his walking. Was he saying that to Granger? Go together where? A forbidding rush fell into his stomach, and he saw Granger look away from Weasley as he turned red. Anger flooded Draco, did the little mudblood think that he was going to let her off the hook so easily?

"Hermione you agree right?" added Weasley, with a pathetic hopefulness in his voice.

Granger looked back at Weasley and gave him a wide smile that made Draco want to choke her to death, right there. "Of course, Ron. We'll have fun."

She sighed softly, probably relieved she finally had a date, Draco thought harshly. Unaware of what he was doing, Draco reached up his hand and tapped Granger on the shoulder. She stopped and turned around, her brown hair swirling across her shoulders.

"Herm - Herm, what're you waiting for?" Potter was saying, and he and Weasley stopped and turned around like her, giving Draco furious glares.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Weasley said, grinding his teeth. Draco snorted. As if the Weasel could do anything to him.

"I want to speak to Granger," he said with relish.

"What would you want with me, Malfoy?" Granger prompted, giving him a warning look. He smirked at her slowly.

"Oh I am sorry, I'll leave you alone. I guess kissing in the Owlery meant nothing to you...?" he remarked innocently.

Weasley and Potter clenched their fists, giving him murderous glares.

"Get away from her, Malfoy. Like she would kiss filth like you," Potter spat. Weasley didn't trust himself to speak, he merely glared at Malfoy in an unsure way.

Draco gave a mock gasp. "You mean, you didn't tell your best friends about us, Granger?"

They both looked at Granger, awaiting her denial. But she gave none, to Draco's satisfaction. Her mouth was slightly open, and her eyes were flaming, her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

"Harry, Ron, can you go inside the classroom? I'd like to have a word with Malfoy here," she said casually, glancing at them. They opened their mouths to protest, but Hermione pushed them into Snape's classroom and closed the door. He had never seen her so mad in her life. Unlike her shocked and innocent expression when he had accused her of kissing him in front of her two best friends, this time he could see she was really pissed off. Her fists were clenched, and her eyes wide, her lips set in a firm straight line.

---

"You have some fucking nerve," Hermione said. He smirked at her, although his eyes were narrowing dangerously.

"You - bitch," Hermione said calmly. She had never been so pissed off in her entire life. He had teased her often about her muggleborn parents, and the fact that she had bushy hair, but embarrassing her in front of her two best friends with complete truth had caught her off guard. She didn't want to screw around with his mind anymore. She wanted to kill him, with her bare hands. It scared her, the anger that rose inside of her, but it felt oddly exhilarating, and she wanted to feel the outrageous feeling more often. Instead of killing him, she settled for pushing him against the wall. Hard. His head banged against the hard surface, and he groaned, rubbing his head with his hand.

"You're going to pay for that, Granger," he yelled, whipping out his wand, but Hermione was already ready. She kicked him hard on the groin with her knee, and he yelled out loudly, his wand dropping to the floor. She picked it up and jabbed it to his chest as he sat against the wall, groaning in agony.

"You think just because I'm a girl that I don't play rough? Think again, Malfoy. God or your father can't save your ass this time. And to think, you're going to get murdered by a girl."

"I don't believe in God," Malfoy replied.

Hermione's anger rose once more, and she pulled his hand over his neck, clutching it tightly. To hear Malfoy speaking about God like that was enough.

"I don't fucking care, you hear me?" she whispered, leaning dangerously close to his face.

Suddenly, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her down to the floor, holding her down with his palm on her head.

Hermione whimpered in pain. The sharp edge of the floor was grinding against her her head, and Draco's fingers were covering her eyes slightly.

All that she could feel was a soft brushing against her lips, and a tingling sensation running through them. Those lips were so soft, she thought vaguely, pressing against them. The tingle was spreading from her bottom lip to her top. She didn't want to stop, and she didn't want to think. He pressed against her body, and she pulled herself against him, trying to feel more of him. Her hands were numb, and so was her mind. His hand was rubbing against her hip, making her shift uncomfortably against him, where she could feel his throbbing hardness. He's turned on, she thought, wanting to smile. It was flattering how she could make him react so easily with one, swift movement. His nails were digging against her forehead, and she whimpered once more, feeling the pricking numbness in her temples.

"You be a good little girl now," he murmured softly, his lips kissing the front of her neck and spreading through her breasts. Her robes shifted open easily, and it revealed a white blouse, trimmed and pressed neatly. He chuckled, his teeth on one of the buttons. She pushed him away and unbuttoned it slowly, her eyes on his face. He watched intently as she finished the process, showing the small cleavage of her flesh. He smirked slightly and proceeded to go on top of her again, but she obviously had other plans, because she pushed him against the floor, and leaned close to his ear.

"We could caught, you know," she said innocently. Dra-Malfoy laughed and squeezed her hip encouragingly.

"Isn't that the fun part?" he said enticingly. Hermione smiled and got up and Malfoy gulped. Her strapless bra was hanging loosely across her skin, and her robes were halfway hanging down her waist, and she pulled them off, so she was only wearing her skirt. Instead of taking off her shoes and high knee socks, she put her hands on her hips and looked at him expectantly.

"Hey, it's not fair if I'm the only one going to be naked," she said, pouting. He clumsily got up, glaring at her. He stripped off his robes and looked back at her stubbornly.

"Not enough skin, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione said, grinning. "Your not self conscious, are you?" she asked mockingly, with a gasp.

His glare deepened as he started pulling on his shirt, but then he hesitated. "You take off your bra."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"YES!"

"NO!"

"YES!"

"NO!"

They must've been pretty loud, because the classroom door nearby to the Potions Classroom opened, and Hermione, horrified, stood numbly in her place, scared to look that way.

"You are disturbing my class- what the ..."

She finally took a deep breath, and to her horror, Professor Snape was staring at them crossly, but his expression changed swiftly into complete shock as he eyed the students. Gryffindor Prefect, half naked, standing across from Slytherin Prefect, who had his robes off. They must've been quite a sight. Hermione's body was numb from disbelief. It can't get any worse, she thought a feel of dread thumping into her stomach.

But it did. Students were peering out curiously, to see what had caused such a disturbance to have Snape open the door and end in a gasp. Harry and Ron were among them.

This just gets better and better, Hermione thought bitterly.

---

Harry quickly covered his eyes with his hand. Ron did nothing, he stood there, numbly looking at them. Snape pushed them, restricting them to come outside of his classroom with his arm, and shut the door, and examining Draco and Hermione with a funny look on his face. Hermione was oddly surprised to see a flush covering his usually pale, cold cheeks.

"You two may go back to your dorms until Potions is over. We will discuss this matter later. Get your slimy clothes off the floor, and get out of my sight! NOW!" he roared, causing them both to jump. Blushing furiously, Hermione gathered her robes swiftly and pulled it over her shoulders, turning away from her Potions Professor. She heard footsteps behind her, and she assumed Draco was following.

As they were out of sight near the classroom, Hermione chose this moment to hide her humiliation and take it out on Draco.

"You little bastard! Look what you did! Oh my God, I'm going to be suspended! Or worse, expelled!" she moaned, muttering under her breath.

"Calm down, you wrench. He's not going to give you a freaking suspension because of this! I expect about twenty or more points off of our houses, and detentions."

"You wish! Whatever, Malfoy. I'm going to go back to my dorm, before you get me in any more trouble," she sneered, turning on her heel and walking onto the other direction. He shook his head, sighing as he watched her bundle of brown hair swing behind her.

What a bitch, he thought bitterly, and started up to his dorms.

---

Surprisingly, Malfoy was right. However, it was not Snape that had come, but Professor McGonagall. By the time she was done with a hurried lecture of sexuality, Hermione's face was flushed. Finally, she took off 25 needed points off of Slytherin and Gryffindor, and gave them three detentions for the week, which they would spend time cleaning the Owlery, various classrooms, and assisting Professor Flitwick reorganizing the various feathers and other ingredients in his classroom.

When Hermione had attended her classes after that, she sat next to Neville, avoiding Harry and Ron's piercing stares that were poring into her back. Although she was pretending to be busy scribbling down notes, what she was really doing was doodling in History of Magic.

Her perfect cursive read these curly letters:

bitch bitch who does he think he is, what a bitch.

Henry the Third was famous for thinking of the Lurid Potion, which would lure anybody into a hidden area of the Forbidden Curse of Wisdom, used by Henry the SECOND at ....

Draco bitch.

Oh yes, she was studying quite hard this semester.

---

Draco did his usual strut to the Common Room when it was six o'clock. He murmured the password and walked in, examining the people that were chatting near the fireplace. People stopped to stare at him as he passed by to go to his Prefect Dorm. There was a tap on his shoulder.

It was Peter Lufflehyrt, a fellow 4th year Slytherin that usually stuttered and had a mass full of brown curls. He coughed nervously, his eyes darting around suspiciously.

"What is it, Lufflehyrt? I'm busy."

"A letter - a letter's has arrived for you sir, it was delivered in the Common Room, nobody wanted to open -"

"Where is it?" Draco said, looking around the large room curiously.

"I have it right here," Peter exclaimed excitedly, tugging something out of his pocket. Ah yes, Draco thought with satisfaction. It was indeed a reply from Sarah.

"Get your filthy hands off it," he said, snatching the letter from Peter's quivering hands.

He opened the door to his Prefect Dorm, cast a locking charm, and opened the door, casually plopping down into his bed.

Draco opened the letter, his eyes pondering around the written words.

---

Hermione groaned as she felt her eyes blink open. It had been a rough night, trying to get to sleep with all the things from yesterday passing through her mind. She blinked again, pulling her eyes into vision. She was in her bed, except there was something extremely unusual. Hermione took an intake of her breath, and found herself staring into wide, green eyes that looked back at her.

She shrieked, falling off her bed and thumping onto the floor.

"Ouch!" she squealed, rubbing her head vigorously.

"Sorry 'bout that," a familiar voice said apologetically, and offered her a hand. She accepted, sitting herself in the bed again, her vision a bit dizzy.

"I didn't mean to scare you."

It was Harry. He was already wearing his robes, and his eyes were looking at her with a strange look through his neatly cleaned glasses.

"Harry! What're you doing here?" Hermione rubbed her tired eyes, trying to make sure this wasn't just another dream.

He paused, his fingers tapping rapidly on her pillow. Finally, after a few moments of tapping and thinking, he finally spoke.

"We're really worried about you, 'Mione," he finally replied vaguely.

"We?"

"Ron and me...he doesn't want to show it, but he's jealous."

"Jealous? Jealous of what?"

"Malfoy."

"Malfoy?!"

"You know how Ron fancies you! I mean, it was really shocking, the way you just...argh, the thought of you and Malfoy together makes me sick," Harry said suddenly, making a face.

"I'm not with Malfoy!"

"Um, half dressed in front of him is, 'Mione."

Hermione couldn't help the huge blush creeping up to her cheeks.

"It- it's hard to explain, but I hate him! Please, you have to believe me! I swear to on my life I hate him, loathe him! I wish he would die! Please, Harry, please believe me."

There was a long silence.

"I believe you want to believe you hate him," he finished pathetically.

"Oh God, this is so stupid! It was just a moment! A heated elapse, stupid freaking hormones, you have to admit he's not really ugly or anything! It was nothing!"

"It was something if it happened with one of your enemies and not with a friend that fancies you, 'Mione," Harry pointed out.

"Oh, you shut up," she snapped.

He did. But all that went through Hermione's head through the needed silence was strange buzzing in her ears.

"Oh God, Ron hates me, doesn't he?" Hermione groaned, collapsing into Harry's arms. Her nose rubbed against the material of his robes. He smoothed down her hair comfortingly.

"Nope. He just wants you even more. Just answer me one question, 'Mione, do you like Ron?"

Hermione sighed, closing her eyes.

"No, not like that, Harry. You know I care about him more than anything else in the world, but he's not boyfriend material, I just don't feel anything, you know?"

"How come? And what do you mean?"

She shrugged. "Like, I just don't feel excited when I brush up against him like this," she demonstrated this by snuggling more closer to him.

"And?"

"And..." Hermione paused. "And, when he whispers in my ear, I'm supposed to feel this weird tingling sensation, but I don't," she muttered in his ear.

"Hmm..."

"Also, when his leg brushes against mine, I don't feel any lust or anything," Hermione said, her leg pushing against Harry's.

"I see."

Hermione looked up, and saw an unreadable expression in Harry's eyes.

"What is it?"

Harry looked down at her. " 'Mione...I..."

His best friend closed her eyes, leaning her face toward his. Their lips brushed against each other for a split second, before Hermione pulled away, looking at him in horror.

"Oh my God," she breathed.

"Hermione - wait..."

"You need to go! Please!" she urged. He nodded dumbly, getting up and parting the drapes around her bed. As his footsteps faded away slowly, she collapsed back in her bed, touching her lips with her fingertips.

As if she needed any more trouble.

---

The detentions with Draco passed by in silence. For the last detention, they were cleaning up Flitwick's classroom, and Draco finally broke. He was annoyed that Granger had managed to keep quiet to him, even when he spoke to her. A Malfoy was to be obeyed, he thought grimly.

So just to get her to say something, he took one of the large books placed on Flitwick's desk (as they were left unsupervised for a few moments) and threw it at the back of her head. She turned around, jumping. When she saw Draco smirking at her, her eyes flashed a deep narrow shade of crimson before she turned back to her work. So Draco stood there in front of his neatly stacked pile of parchments, nothing left to do but feel very stupid and left unsatisfied.

Why was she ignoring him like this? There was no 'What the fuck do you think you're doing' nor 'Shut the fuck up.' Although he had taken no liking to the brainy muggleborn, he had to admit it felt oddly spacey without her annoying words, or her angry blush.

But the day wasn't a complete waste. He had a plan, since the day she had fucked up his room, to get back at her. He knew she was a real Gryffindor Prefect, and had her own dorm. And, that after she finished cleaning her half of the room, she would be free to leave. These two statements gave him plenty of opportunities. He smiled weakly, picking up the rest of the parchments. When Granger was finished stacking the books away in the proper bookshelves and spare desks, she fiddled with her robes a bit, put her hair in place again, and yawned, stretching.

Without saying a word, she picked up her book bag and stalked out of the room. Hurriedly, Draco watched as she escaped through the hallway. He reached inside his book bag and took out a silvery cloak, and put it on himself, making him completely invisible. He had inherited from his father, for 'dark arts' business. He snorted at the thought, and without looking back at the book bag he had left behind, followed Granger out to the hallway. Her shiny, brunette hair was shaking behind her as she walked. She seemed to be in a tight rush, he noted with interest. Before he knew what was happening, Granger suddenly turned a corner and stroked through a door of a classroom. Draco had the self control not to groan aloud. What was the little mudblood bitch up to now? She knew it was 10 o'clock already, and time for bed. Why couldn't she just go up to her damn dorm? But Draco followed her anyway, finally relenting. He opened the door slowly and stepped in. It was dim lighted, but he could still see the light features of the room. There were ten large desks, along with soft looking chairs, and some cushions sprawled across the floor. There was also a long, blackboard that stood out, and smooth, long chalk on it's border, looking unused and freshly new. Granger, surprisingly, took a seat nearby one of the cushions, and stared blankly at the board. Adrenaline rushed through Draco, with a soft bit of excitement. What was she waiting for? He shivered unknowingly...

Suddenly, the door swung open again, to reveal a hooded figure. Draco squinted, but the dim light showed nothing. The figure sat her/himself down onto a seat next to her, across the table.

"Sorry I'm late." It was a deep, male voice, that sounded strangely familiar. He squinted again, and saw a flash of red hair.

"It's okay, I would've waited anyway. Listen, thanks for meeting me."

"No problem, 'Mione...we are friends after all."

Draco restrained a snort on his part. It was obviously Weasley, trying to suck up to Granger, and strangely enough, Draco found himself sickened with the thought of Granger kissing Weasley.

"Look, I don't know what Harry told you..."

" - What do you - talked to me since - "

Draco crept closer, and placed himself silently on a seat near the talking and contented couple. They were whispering, their heads close, whispering to each other. It made his stomach grumble.

"I haven't been avoiding you Ron, it's just, the incident with me and Malfoy," Hermione said, creeping closer to him. Draco jumped a bit when he heard his surname being called.

"I know it wasn't your fault, 'Mione...that guy's a bloody son of a bitch, he manipulates people to getting what they want. Someday he'll realize the world doesn't work that way...I'd never want him near you again, I don't want you to get hurt," Weasley said softly, rubbing his fingers against the strands of hair hanging loosely from her ponytail and onto her neck.

Oh, how sweet, Draco thought sarcastically. It's obvious he wants to get laid by the fucking bitch, why doesn't just put a move on? He shivered slightly at the thought of what one of 'Weasley's moves' would be. He listened to more whispered chatter of recent plays of Quidditch, laughter about Weasley's brother's new pranks, Weasley's little sister's new secret crush, which he did not approve of (Ron! You don't even know who it is!, 'So what, my little sister isn't supposed to grow up!') Draco grew to be very bored indeed, before his brilliant mind deducted a demented plan. The table covered both Granger and Weasley's legs, and they were sitting across from each other. He grinned. Being invisible was going to be a little more fun...

---

"So then, Colin, you know, the tiny guy with the camera, follows Harry around? He was like 'Oh yeah, Ron, tell Gin I had a great time last night'...I mean, what's that about?"

"Oh Ron, don't tell me you beat him into a pulp."

Ron shrugged in reply. "Hey, a great time might sound normal to him, but not when it involves my baby sister...especially since she was quiet about the date...maybe something happened?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Or maybe it's because she had to see you afterwards, mmm?" she teased.

His ears turned red and he chuckled softly.

Hermione was about to comment when something unexpected happened. Something brushed against her leg, another leg of some kind. It was kneeling forward so it was creeping it's way between her legs...

"Ron!" she shrieked.

Ron jumped. "What is it?"

"What - what are you doing?" asked his best friend breathlessly. "Are you insane?" A heavy blush was falling in her cheeks.

"What are you -" he stopped talking quickly and his ears turned red. "Uh, 'Mione, could you please refrain from...um, could you remove your foot...it's on my..."

Hermione jumped up. "What?!"

"What?!" Ron repeated, easily confused. Hermione looked around, a slight gape in her lips.

"Okay, this is scaring me...I'm going to bed. G'night," she said in a rush, and patted his hair affectionately before running toward the door, swinging it open and rushing into the hallway.

Draco was in silent fits of laughter as he proceeded to follow her.

---

She was going to undress!

Draco Malfoy couldn't believe his luck. Hermione Granger was going to undress in front of him, unknowingly. He found this strangely seductive. They had finally arrived at her dorm, and she was hurriedly getting off of her robes, and now she was unbuttoning her blouse slowly, sweeping it off of her shoulders, revealing, white, creamy skin.

In all the years of Hogwarts, Hermione managed to fail to do one thing: show off her beautiful figure.

Now that her blouse was off, her fingers were beginning to work on the hem of her skirt, what Draco had been anticipating all these weeks.

It slowly revered down her hips and steered out of her legs, and she folded it up neatly along with her blouse. Her undergarments consisted both of the same, white, cotton fabric.

Draco was filled with slight disappointment. He had thought that she would at least wear silk underwear, but white cotton was all she could wear, he felt strangely like he was watching Virgin Mary undress.

His disappointment floated away as Hermione began taking things out of a drawer, placing them messily on the floor. Undergarments, socks, shirts, tops, pants, and pajamas. Finally, she took out something that Draco thought looked a bit like a bundle of silk. The fabric looked shiny, anyway. It was silver colored, and it wasn't before she placed it over her head and over her figure that he figured out what it was. It was a short nightgown, that came up to her knees, with four thin straps, two thin ones in each shoulder, to support the hold. He frowned slowly. Couldn't she wear something a bit shorter? Or get rid of those stupid strings, to show a bit more cleavage? He rolled his eyes, and watched as she collapsed into bed, obviously troubled but still tired the same.

Good. She didn't turn off the light. This will make it a bit easier for me...

He grinned mischievously.

---

It was dim. It was dim. Hmmm...

Everything seemed perfectly normal. Except for the fact that she was in the Forbidden Forest, and that it was nighttime. Sweat was rushing through the brims of her forehead. Someone's watching me, she thought. Someone's watching me...

There was a tap on her back.

"ARGH!" Hermione jumped and shrieked, looking at the face.

Harry. "What're you doing here?"

"You have to choose," he merely said. It was then that she realized that he had an afro on, one that was orange. She didn't find this funny in her dream, of course...she screamed.

"NO! PLEASE! NO!"

"YES! MUHAHAHA - ACK! Help, I'm choking!" Harry clutched his throat, his glasses askew, his afro shaking back and forth.

"No! Harry, NO!" she ran, to aid him to help, but she couldn't get near him. A strange, watery substance stood around him like a bubble, and she was unable to get in.

"I don't think so," a voice drawled. Hermione gasped. DRACO!!??

She turned her head to the side, but it wasn't Draco. It was Professor Flitwick, but he WAS Draco.

"AAAAAHHAAAA..." Professor/Draco exclaimed, pointing at Harry.

Draco, or whoever he was, was hit over in the head with an umbrella, suddenly.

Then, came out Colin Creevey.

"'Mione, come to Hogsmeade, come! Come! COME!" he said, in a squeaky voice. His hair was turning red...

"RON! RON!"

"FORGET ABOUT HIM!" both Harry and Professor Flitwick/Malfoy exclaimed.

Flitwick grabbed Hermione by her ears, and kissed her fiercely.

"NOOOO!"

The last thing she remembered, was a gray mixture of lighting, and Harry's orange massive amount of hair shaking back and forth again...

Hermione Granger shifted in bed, and opened her eyes, horrified, clutching her head.

She gasped. Her room was so... hot...the large portion of heat was surrounding her, and Hermione felt sweat trickle down her hair and into the flesh of her chest. All she could remember was the burning sensation in her temples as Flitwick had kissed her...even though it felt oddly disgusting, she could still feel the pricking tingling of Draco's lips.

Suddenly, she burst out laughing. Harry had been in an afro! Snorting, she threw the covers off of her, and blinked the darkness into vision. She needed ice, something cold to lather over her body...a cold shower. Her loss of sleep had set her off in a extreme headache. She collapsed back in bed and reached out to put her arm around her side pillow by her left side. She scrunched up her eyebrows as her eyelids kept closed. It seemed different than a pillow...it was much more lumpier, and it was...moving?!

That's when she realized that it wasn't the pillow she was hugging.

It was the lumpy form of a person.

And that person was Draco Malfoy.

---

Sweat glimmered against the manes of the strands of silver hair that covered his head. He was half covered in covers, his eyelids closed, and his breathing uneven. He struggled against the bed, as Hermione watched him carefully, holding her breath until the shock would wear off. What did he think he was doing, lying in her bed, surprising her like that? If she was a year younger, she would've blushed and giggled carelessly, but she was sixteen. A dangerous age of hormonal strike, which comforted her and encouraged her to be steadily calm.

She moved forward, examining him, her heartbeat racing against her ribs painfully. There was excitement fulfilling inside of her. She looked around her room and stifled an outraged gasp. Clothes were thrown about everywhere, underwear, shirts, shorts, pants, extra robes and spell books splattered on the floor on a messy clatter. In the heap of it all was a silvery material that looked oddly like Harry's invisibility cloak. She squinted in the darkness, moving closer and touched it, smelling the soft, sweet scent of faint cologne. No, Harry didn't wear cologne. This must've been Malfoy's, and this was how he got through without her catching him!

Hermione's dreadful thought came into view. That had mean that he had followed her into her room...and she had undressed.

Oh God, she thought to herself. He had seen her undress. She could feel her face burning with humiliation. He probably made fun of the flabby way her stomach was, or how flat chested she was, or how her thighs were thick and her ankles were skinny. She shuddered. How horrible she must've looked. But what had enticed him to her bed? Tiredness, perhaps? Maybe something more? She shook the thoughts of quickly, determined to get back at him. Grinning, she slowly crept out of bed and studied the items on her dressing table. There were various tubes of lip gloss, different colors of eyeshadow, cotton balls, nail polish...and lipstick...LIPSTICK!?

A thought urged into her brain, and she found herself imitating the Cheshire cat. She looked through her several tubes of lipstick until she found a rather nice shade of red, which was a light brown but heavy dark auburn color. She took the top off, and crept back into her bed, leaning over Draco. His face looked oddly angelic, which she found rather endearing, but she managed to leave her concentration on her revenge. She applied the lipstick softly, brushing it against his bottom lip, thoroughly going toward all textures of his lips. As soon as she finished applying to the bottom lip, she started on the top, taking a small amount of lipstick on her finger and brushing it against his lips. They were soft lips, and a sudden tingling sensation began to reform in her fingertip. She let go, and giggled a bit at Draco's appearance.

He would wake up a woman! The thought was too humorous to bear. Hermione was thinking of putting eye shadow on him when suddenly, his arms swung around her waist tenderly. Her heart leaped into shock, and she saw that Draco was still half asleep, muttering to himself.

He must be having a dream, she noted thoughtfully as he pulled her closer against his body. She squirmed a bit, being so close to him. Her chest thudded against his, and her head was right below his chin as he held her. She heard him murmur something.

"Mmm...must get more..." he muttered, his hand wavering to her hip.

Oh, gross, she thought, her insides drowning in the pleasant embrace. He's having a sexual fantasy, her mind exclaimed.

Trying to stay absolutely calm and content, she closed her eyes, trying not to notice the fact that a drop dead gorgeous sixteen year old boy was hugging her tightly in her own bed.

No, think of something else. Something non-sexy. Let's see...Snape! Yes, Snape. He's ...well...greasy. Imagine his greasy hands all over you. Oh God, I'm going to throw up now. Okay, easier subject. Okay, Transfiguration. No, that's boring. Harry! Yes, Harry...what had been with that kiss? Did he feel that unusual heat too? It felt kind of like kissing Draco, with actual tenderness. Now that's scary. With Harry, it's like one kiss, you have that to think about it for a lifetime. With Draco, you want more, and you go on, and on, and on all night..

NO! NO! Stop thinking! Must think about books. Socks. Dumbledore. Dobby. Anything!

But Hermione's thoughts wavered over to the other end of sinister, and without any self control, she moved up against him, and felt him clutch strands of her hair in response.

"Mmm...butter...yes...." she heard him say seductively.

What - the - fuck?! Hermione let go off him suddenly, falling off the other end of the bed and landing with a thump on the floor.

"Bitch," she murmured, struggling to get up. Suddenly, she heard a knock on the door.

What the - it was morning! Very, very early morning in fact! Probably 2 o'clock A.M. Who the hell would be outside her door this late, or early?

She looked around anxiously, fighting the terrible urge to groan. Her room was a mess, and sixteen year old Draco Malfoy was in her bed! This would not be a very good position for her to be in, especially if several types of underwear and shorts lay scattered across the floor.

"'Mione? Open up, it's me," a drowsy voice in the end of the door said.

Harry! She got up hurriedly, and covered Draco with sheets and pillows, and swung open the door to a small gape.

"Harry! How'd - how did you know I was awake?" she stammered, at lost for any logical words in her mind.

"I heard footsteps under your door...I was passing by, and I thought we should talk anyways. Ron told me you guys made up before he went to sleep, and you've been avoiding me in classes," he said, smiling nervously. He was wearing long, blue striped bottoms, with a matching shirt, which Hermione noted sensually that was unbuttoned at the front, revealing light chestnut hairs on his toned chest. She raised an eyebrow, her eyes pondering over his legs, thinking of wrong-doing...

"Well, I just...can we ...in the morning? I mean..."

Harry looked at her suspiciously.

"What's wrong? I've been in your room before." To Harry, it might've sounded like a casual thing to say, but to Hermione, a newly hormone-crazed maniac, it sounded rather sexy.

"Well yes...but..." she tried hard to look for a reasonable excuse.

"Do you have someone in there?" Harry prompted suddenly.

Her heart leaped in panic. 'Oh God.'

"Harry! What a thing to say," she said, her voice coming out high and unnatural.

He stared at her knowingly. "You do, then."

She froze, looking at him intently. "Harry..." her voice faded off.

Harry nodded, a frown set upon his lips. "Fine, I'll leave. Don't want to disturb you and your lover."

He started to walk back, but Hermione opened the door and stepped out to follow after him.

"Harry, wait! It's not what you think!"

He turned around, and glared at her in furious anger.

"Oh really! It's not? That means that you don't have Malfoy in your bed, then?"

he snapped.

She gaped. She couldn't help it. It was as if he could read her mind clearly.

"I knew it."

He began storming back, but Hermione grabbed his arm, sighing.

"Fine, you can come in. To talk," she said pointedly. He blushed a small faint tint of red before following her to her dorm. She muttered the password again and he followed her.

A sudden ache began to rise in her throat as he stepped into the darkness of her room and sat on the bed. Hermione stiffened in action as she saw the covers and pillows that hid Malfoy in her bed rise slowly.

---

Hermione took an intake of her breath. The covers shifted a bit, and went to reveal Draco's angelic face. He had obviously turned over in his half-sleep. Hermione had the sudden sensation to shriek, because Harry was awfully close to the sleeping figure, and if he found out, their friendship wouldn't last for long.

"I wanted to talk to you - about the kiss," Harry nervously stated, wringing his fingers in his hands.

She nodded innocently, looking down at her knees. Her heartbeat race increased quickly as he put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It was wrong. I'm sorry." A tingling spread throughout her body as he ensued massaging her fingers in a luring way.

Hermione did not quite know what to say right then. Part of her was relieved, they could put this behind them, and then she could deal with the horrid situation of the war with Malfoy and Haden's new girlfriend. But there was another part that was stricken. Why had he changed his mind so steadily after the kiss? From her point of view, the brushing across the lips hadn't been bad. In fact, she was pretty sure it would've felt the same way with Haden. If she ever got to kiss him, that is.

"Oh. Okay. Well, you better leave. I need to get to sleep anyway. Got to be fresh up for Hogsmeade tomorrow. See you there?" she said, hoping she sounded offhand. She needed him to get out of her room so she could finish the job of turning Malfoy into a woman, anyway.

"Sure, 'Mione," he replied, and Hermione could've sworn there was a disappointed catch to his face.

"What is it?" she asked curiously, fighting the urge to groan. This boy would not give up, would he?

"Nothing, it's just you seem really eager to get me out. You don't even seem sleepy," Harry said, squirming a bit.

Hermione shrugged. "But I am, Harry. We don't have anything else to say, alright?"

Apparently, her voice had come out snappish, because Harry's head shifted toward hers, his green eyes boring into her brown ones.

"Is there something wrong? What did I say to make you so pissed?"

"Nothing."

But Harry kept giving her the suspicious look, so she sighed in withdrawal.

"I just think it's really rich of you to kiss me and then say it was a big mistake and try to be the freaking hero," she said bitterly.

"I didn't kiss you! YOU kissed me!" he objected.

She gasped. "I did not!"

"Yes you did! And by the way, I bet if I was Malfoy and kissed you, you would've kissed me back. What is it with you Hermione? You're being a complete hypocrite. You can kiss your enemy, but no, when your best friend does, you just push me away. You don't even seem to like Ron anymore."

"I never did!" she confessed, getting up. She was tired of everyone implying that she had not gotten over him, especially Harry. And she did not like at all how he referred to her as a "hypocrite". Hadn't they been friends long enough to not get mad over silly things? But she knew it wasn't a mere "thing". Oh no, it was far worse than that.

"Then how is it that you take a liking to your enemy? Answer me that." His face was red now, gleaming in the darkness. He had gotten up from the bed now too, and was in splitting rage.

"I - I don't like him! You really need to leave now, Harry. You're giving me a headache!"

"Tell me the last time I gave a damn. You don't like Malfoy? Prove it."

Then Hermione did something that was definitely uncalled for. She threw her arms around him and kissed him. It wasn't one of those romantic scenarios where there was a moment. It was a moment of stupidity and a way to get Harry to shut up.

It was nothing like before. The quick brushing of lips had done no mercy. This time, their lips collided reverently, with Hermione clutching Harry's waist tightly, not trusting herself to regain oxygen. It felt good, to kiss like this, and not worry about who she was kissing, because his tight grip on her reminded her that it was Harry, Harry, just a friend, and it was okay. She didn't have to worry about if she was kissing an enemy or not. It's just a friendly kiss, she told herself playfully, and she knew it was a lie, because suddenly her body was against the soft rumbled covers of the bed, and he was half lying on top of her, pulling on the fabric of her nightgown.

---

"Tell me the last time I gave a damn."

More muffled whispers.

"Prove it." It was a male voice, deeper and softer than Draco's. He saw the familiar edge to it. It belonged to Potter. He dared not to open his eyes. He knew he had fallen asleep on Granger's bed, but he was half awake, aware of sounds and mumbles. So. Potter was with Granger now. Suddenly, there was a large plop on the bed, and by instinct he turned his head, and saw a rather surprising sight.

Hermione Granger, with Harry Potter, on top of her. Who would've thought? he thought, trying to put the situation in an amusing way. But this did not succeed. The fact that Herm- Granger was going to get laid by the Boy Who Lived in the bed that he was in was not a happy thought. He slowly rose from his covers, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He got up from the bed unnoticed by the kissing couple, and ran past them. His eyes caught on something gleaming on Granger's desk drawer.

Two letters. Both wrapped around with gleaming silver ribbons shimmering in the dim light. He grabbed them carefully, and pulled the invisibility cloak onto him which he had left in the floor.

By the time he had arrived at his prefect dorm, his mind was swimming with curiosity about what would happen next. The war would certainly go on until someone called a truce or gave up. But none of them were ready for that, were they? Draco raised his eyebrows. Perhaps Granger would call for a truce.

He shrugged to himself and proceeded to open the first envelope he had 'borrowed' from Granger's dorm.

Dearest Hermione,

Jenny is still awaiting you for Christmas. Emma is crying more often then ever because her aunt hasn't arrived yet. Next week, you will arrive, Hermione. I demand you come. Just because Jenny might make a mistake doesn't mean Emma did anything wrong. She's your sister, and Emma's your niece. I know you'll give in, you've always been a nice person, Hermione. Please, please take this into consideration.

Love,

Dad

(P.S. Haden's letter is enclosed)

Aw, isn't that adorable, Draco thought, laughing, tugging the letter back into the envelope. So Granger was having family troubles, eh? Who the hell was Haden, though? The answer to that question came quickly as he picked up the second envelope.

Dear 'Mione:

Clarissa is dating her teacher. It's over between us. I guess this letter's supposed to be sappy, but she was the one that broke up with me. She said she loved me, but my heart was somewhere else. What the fuck is that supposed to mean, anyway, I thought. But I guess she was right. Every time I looked at her, I found myself comparing her to you, thinking of the qualities you have that she doesn't. She might be smarter and prettier, but you were more fun to be around with. And I guess it doesn't help either that one time I slipped and called her Mione. That led to a big argument. I wanted to marry her, but I guess it just wasn't right. I want to see you at Christmas, Hermione. I want for us to go on a date. A real one. I want to spend Christmas with you too. I don't want to feel like you're a girl on the rebound, I just really don't think we should be just friends. Please let me know what you think. I'm already kicking myself for writing this to you, anyway.

Miss you,

-Haden

An unknown furious force took over Draco. So. The little Granger was a slut. Two guys were after her. Was it two? Was Draco after her too? No, it was just a war. A silly little game. But he had a dreading and exciting feeling that it was going to get a bit more intense.

He happened to glance in the mirror and gaped. Lipstick smeared his lips. He looked absolutely disgusting! Granger had done this! She had waken and seen the clothes and had done this! She was planning to humiliate him in public! We'll see about this, he thought sinisterly. He ground his teeth, and then a strange grin spread onto his face. Now he had an excuse.

Oh yes, Granger would pay.

Dear Haden,

To hell I'm going out with you. You are a disgusting little bastard. I'm glad Clarissa is gone, why would you think a girl like her would like you anyways? I might come home for Christmas, I haven't decided yet, but it won't be for you if I go. It'll be for Emma and Jenny.

I hope you die, Merry Christmas.

-Hermione Granger

---

The morning came only too soon. Hermione shielded her eyes from the beaming light producing from her windows and yawned tiredly. Yesterday night's events were buzzing into her head, turning into confusion every so often. She looked beside her, looking into the face of Harry's.

She leaned over and shook him gently, and he made a slight movement and murmured something without opening his eyes.

"Harry, wake up," she whispered in his ear, tenderly rubbing his locks of black hair.

"One more minute, Aunt Petunia," Harry mumbled inaudibly, shaking off Hermione's hands.

"Aunt Petunia?" Hermione questioned in disgust.

"Well," she continued in a loud voice in his ear, "If I am your aunt, then we did some very, very bad things yesterday."

"What?" Harry jumped up, wiping his eyes. When he saw Hermione, he gave her a weak grin.

"Hey," he said, his breath fanning her face.

"Good morning," she replied shyly, warily looking at his bare chest.

"What day is it?"

"The day to pack my bags. Christmastime, it's here at last," she breathed.

"Oh, right. You're coming with us to the Burrow, then?"

Hermione shrugged. "Err- maybe I'll visit, but my, well, sister Jenny, she's expecting me for home, so I'm going to go there. And anyway, I am not sure Ron would comfortable around me at the Burrow if he finds out what happened."

Harry looked bewildered for a moment. Then, realization came over his face of the past night's events and nodded. "That's true...but you can't leave me alone with him at the Burrow to tell him alone...that's not fair."

His friend rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't do that. Just, just restrain yourself from talking much about me at Christmas, okay? And then, when we're back, we'll..., we'll figure something out."

"Okay," he agreed meekly, observing her. "You look pretty in bed sheets," he said, grinning slyly.

"You!" Hermione said, laughing, plopping him with a pillow.

---

Draco Malfoy warily stuffed his clothes in various bags, and prized possessions, and of course, some homework. He was only going home for Christmas for Sarah anyway. He didn't like going home, facing his egotistical father and his careless mother. But, it was only for Christmas, so it didn't really matter.

He was still overjoyed of what he had done yesterday. He thought it was ingenious, brilliant, and in fact, very evil. "Haden" was obviously smitten with Granger, and if he took that away from her, she would be more than pissed. Oh well, he thought, she deserves it.

But a little part of his mind knew that he was lying to himself.

---

Of course, it occurred to her that Draco had left. But she tried hard not to think about him seeing Harry and her kiss. The thought was too unnerving to think about. The fact that Draco had even been in the bed while they were talking was disgusting.

"Hermione, are you listening to me?" Ginny's voice interrupted.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Fine, tell me what I was saying."

Hermione thought fast. "Err- something about a guy you like and...uh ... other stuff."

Ginny rolled her eyes stubbornly.

"It's not just that. Hermione, is fifteen too young to...um...lose your virginity?" she said, speaking the words quickly.

That got her friend's attention very well.

"What?" she sputtered, widening her eyes.

"I mean - I -" she stammered, her brown eyes twitching in nervousness.

"You what?" Hermione said slowly, even though her intention was to say 'What the fuck?!'

Ginny didn't answer. Her cheeks was turning slowly red, and she turned away shyly from Hermione.

"Ginny, is this just a silly question of yours, or something that - that is about you?" Hermione noted carefully, hoping she would say it was just a silly question.

"It's sort of about me. I mean, Ron would kill me if he knew, but I - oh, I don't know. Forget it, that was very idiotic of me to talk to you about this. Especially since you're my brother's best friend."

"Gin, tell me. I won't care, okay? I didn't know you wanted to talk to me in the first place. You just said that you needed help packing, and since I already packed, I agreed to helping you. But if what you really want to do is talk, that's fine," Hermione babbled, wishing she had made up an excuse and bolted out of the room right then.

"Well...okay," Ginny said, dropping one of the shirts she was about to pack, and took a seat on her bed. Hermione reluctantly sat next to her, waiting.

Finally, her friend began to speak. "There's this guy. He - well we don't know each other very well. We've had troubles in the past, but every time I look at him, he's so gorgeous, you know? And I have these thoughts about doing more than kissing with him...he's just so...one night stand kind of material..." she said dreamily.

Hermione scrunched up her nose in disgust. One night stand material? Ginny, sweet, innocent Gryffindor Ginny was talking about this?

"And?"

"And, I - well, I want to kind of, um," she sad, having trouble with the words.

"You want to seduce him," Hermione declared softly. Ginny blushed furiously, but nodded in agreement.

"Exactly. But you mustn't tell Ron about this. He was so angry about me dating Colin that if he knew I was having thoughts about another guy, sexually, he'd freak out," Ginny chatted quickly.

"Ah, okay. I don't know, Ginny. I - well, fifteen is kind of young, but it is your decision," Hermione said, shrugging, although she was fighting the urge to yank off Ginny's hair. This conversation was only reminding her of the things she and Harry had done yesterday night, and she was only a year older than Ginny!

"Okay."

That closed the conversation. As they continued packing in silence, Hermione thought of something Ginny had said.

"Wait, the guy you want to seduce isn't Colin?" she asked, hoping her voice would sound casual. Ron DID say something about her having a crush...

"No," Ginny muttered. "That's the problem."

"Can you tell me who it is?"

She hesitated. "Alright, but only if you keep it a secret, or my head will be chopped off my by own sibling."

"I swear."

"It's- it's Malfoy."

---

"Brenda."

"No, that's too - virgin," said Sarah grinning sheepishly. Draco rolled his eyes and eyed her curiously.

"And you want our newborn to be non-virgin?" he asked, bursting into laughter. She punched him lightly and giggled in spite of herself.

"Zat's disgusting and you know it. Stop laughing! Stop it!" she ordered, hissing. "People are staring!"

"I'm sorry but your accent is making it more humorous."

Sarah rolled her eyes this time. "British boys," she sighed, muttering furiously under her breath.

"Beautiful French girls," he muttered, imitating her and grinning meekly.

She smiled back at him, and leaned in for one, tender kiss. It lasted for seconds, but they hadn't kissed for so long while he was Hogwarts he was beginning to enjoy spending time with Sarah for once.

When their lips parted, she gave him a lopsided smirk. "Let's go to my place," she whispered suggestively in his ear, her lukewarm breath brushing against the side of his face and reaching his eardrums enticingly.

"Okay," he replied, getting up and paying his bill for the food on the table, and put his arm around her shoulders, leading her out of the restaurant.

---

"Haden! Haden! Come back here this instant!" Hermione Granger's voice shrieked throughout the muggle streets. He turned back to give her another loathing glare.

"Why should I? I am just a little bastard, aren't I?" he yelled, breathing heavily.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, looking at him, confused.

"The letter, damnit! What the hell is wrong with you 'Mione?! What? You are a fucking moron you know. At first I thought you were brilliant but I guess I was wrong," he said, heading back to his house. Before he could slam the door, she ran and grabbed him tightly by the arm.

"Let go," he said, struggling in her death grip.

"Not until you tell me what I did. What letter?" she breathed calmly.

"I told you - Clarissa broke up with me - I told you some fucking meaningful things about our fucking relationship and you just screwed me off. What kind of a friend is that, 'Mione?"

"Haden, I never read your letter, nor did I respond -" her response was cut off with Haden getting away and slamming the door hard in her face. The bang ringing in her ears, she leaned against the door, her chin on her knees, and covered her face with her hands, and started to do the only thing she could think of. She put her head down and started to cry.

---

"How was your Christmas?"

Hermione continued to fork at her rather large portion of unappetizing breakfast and shrugged, not looking up from Witch Weekly - The Latest Edition. Ron was across from her, scribbling furiously into his notebook, which was unusual for him so early in the morning, and Harry was eating little bites of his food, talking every so often about what had happened at the Burrow. Christmas was over, and the usual chatter of bright morning started again. Everyone was disappointed that classes had begun again, and were doing last minute homework, or talking to their fellow students about what they had gotten for Christmas.

"Brandon - he's a muggle. Really, very, so cute! He gave me this little slip thing, I told him I wouldn't wear it but it was a 'naughty' gesture for him. He groaned, of course. I just wish I could have at least one more week with him," hissed Pavarti Patil to her friend, Lavender Brown, who was leaning forward eagerly as her friend spoke.

Hermione rolled her eyes, trying to block out their conversation. Only Pavarti would ever use a carelessly grammarian sentence such as "Really, very, so cute!"

It was well known that Lavender and Pavarti, though not sluts, were anticipating the moment they became ones themselves. It infuriated her greatly how much Brandon reminded her of Haden. No, stop thinking about him, she demanded herself harshly. You have Harry, remember? Speaking of Harry...

"Harry, would you mind if I talked to you privately?" she whispered in his ear. Harry nodded, looking at her with a puzzled expression. He got up, which received a swift glance from Ron.

"Hermione and I will be right back," he merely stated, before they walked through the Great Hall and went out to the hallway.

Hermione followed two steps behind him, however, her need to 'talk' was not taken sincerely by Harry, because he grabbed her quickly and planted a hard kiss on her mouth. She let go, returning the kiss for a second before their lips were not collided anymore.

"Harry, I'm serious. I really do need to talk to you. About Ron. About us, about everything! We haven't thought of anything! I am freaking out, okay?" she reported bluntly to him, folding her arms across her chest stubbornly.

"'Mione, classes are going to begin, and I know you wouldn't want to miss the first day, now do you? We'll talk later. Meet me eight o'clock at the Astronomy Tower. We'll talk things through, and by tomorrow we'll have Ron notified. Just trust me, okay?" he said, grazing her cheekbone tenderly. She sighed, nodding at the pouting expression on her boyfriend's face.

"You know I can't say no to that face," she said, laughing slightly.

"I'll have to remember that," Harry teased, giving her a raise of an eyebrow. Rolling her eyes, Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Let's go before anybody suspects something..."

"Suspects what, Potter? Oooh, are you and your girlfriend discussing an 'evil plan'? Count me in," snarled a sarcastic prone-voice behind Harry. They both turned around, and looked into the gleaming eyes of Malfoy.

"Shut up, Malfoy. C'mon 'Mione, let's go," Harry said, giving Draco a murderous glare, and tugging at Hermione's arm.

"So, Granger, I'll see you at midnight, in my room?" his voice trailed off suggestively. Hermione clenched her fists, her face turning red.

Before she could respond physically, Harry had slammed Draco against the wall harshly, dragging him to the floor.

In other times, Hermione would've said, "No, stop it," but this was a different time, and Hermione enjoyed herself greatly as she watched Harry go on top of him and clutch his throat tightly.

"Harry, let's go. You don't want to waste your energy on this ferret. Please?" Hermione finally said. Harry obediently got up and left Draco on the floor, brushing himself off, obviously satisfied with his handiwork. Draco's nose was dripping slowly with blood.

As Hermione and Harry proceeded to go into the Great Hall once more, Draco's threatening voice echoed throughout the halls.

"You'll pay for this, Potter! Mark my words!"

---

Harry checked his tiny muggle watch apprehensively. It was promptly 8 o'clock, time for Hermione. He grinned slowly, glad that he would be able to see Hermione. Although she had scheduled the time to 'talk' he knew that after a few bundles of chatter he could manipulate her to a small little kiss, and even a little more than that...

By the time he was out of the common room and into the large hallways of Hogwarts, it was five after eight, and he was hurrying into a fast walk, and then, unexpectedly, something hard bellowed a large blow to his head, leaving him to fall against the floor.

He heard a few murmurs, but they could've been his own, trying to regain consciousness.

His last thought before he fell into a deep faint was that he was going to be late.

---

"You're late," Hermione's voice rang out disapprovingly. "Explain yourself, Mr. Potter."

A small chuckle escaped from behind her. She refused to look at him. She didn't want him to judge by facial expression that she was trying hard not to laugh herself. Strong arms soon wrapped around her waist.

"Sorry, I was held up," said Harry, in a deeper, huskier voice.

"Well, we're wasting time. We should be talking about how we're going to tell Ron and what happened between ..." her voice faded off as she felt Harry's soft lips trail across her neckline.

"Harry!" she said, trying to squirm out of his grip. But he caught her once again, and she felt herself colliding against him, his lower body retracting a reaction onto her back.

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to control herself. Harry did not usually act like this. What was going on? The faint, familiar smell of perfume reached her nostrils, and she scrunched up her nose in distaste. Harry didn't wear cologne. Was he trying to seduce her? Hermione would've laughed at that, but it was working.

His hand embraced the tangles of her hair, tugging at it. She fell more deeply against him, not trusting herself to open her eyelids. His hand was wandering onto her thigh, grazing it tightly. She had a deja vu about Harry grazing her cheekbone tenderly. This was not Harry. Her eyes snapped open, turning around.

Her eyes were slowly connected to not emerald ones, but gray, icy, cool ones, with a nape of silver hair. Before she could speak, Draco's lips brushed against hers, and forgetting all the consequences that could happen, she gripped Draco's waist tightly in her small, frail fingers, not wanting to let go. He pressed his lower body against hers, making their lips slowly drift apart. Hermione gave a small moan caught in her throat as he clutched her back tightly, his fingernails digging into her robes.

"Please," she murmured, unaware of what she was saying. It wasn't really happening. It was just a fantasy to dwell on, and having fantasies was not against the rules. She wasn't cheating on Harry! She was just having one little fantasy. That was it...how could something that felt so good be sinful? It's not real, she told herself, feeling drowsy as Draco's weight fell into her, and her back hitting the floor hard.

She didn't want to stop. It was never like this with Harry. With Harry, it was hurried and oddly gentle. With Malfoy, she wanted it now, over and over, and over again...

"God, you're still wearing your little school uniform...with your little innocent skirt," he muttered, his tongue outlining the frame of her lips.

"I'm so innocent," she replied, her eyes half closed as his lips trailed across above the waistline of her skirt. She felt his fingers inside of her skirt, fumbling around with the pieces of fabric. She felt her own fingertips lead the way to unbuttoning her blouse, leaving it half-unbuttoned.

What was he doing? His lips were slipping across the warm flesh of her legs, nipping at every chance he got, except to the main target. Her hands went to grip his head tightly.

"Do it," she whispered.

"Demanding, eh? I thought you were innocent."

Hermione pushed him off of her, and ignoring the protest from Malfoy, she crawled into him, and began unzipping his pants carelessly.

"What're you doing?" he breathed.

"I'm going to play a little game of my own."

---

"You know you're evil, right?" he said, holding her head in his palms. She didn't respond directly, but soon she pulled her mouth away and smiled at him, planting one more kiss on his lips, a more, hurried one.

He groaned, making an raw animal sound and pulling her closer to him, tightening his arms around her waist and pulling her accurately against her so she could feel his reaction, grinding his hips into hers, relenting her to give a small moan in return.

She leaned closer and pressed her cheek against his, breathlessly, and clutched his neck with her right hand, shifting her fingers through the cracks of his silver-flamed hair, and digging her nails into his scalp as he plunged into her and she gave a a small whimper, feeling helpless, the pain of her second time and pleasure

numbing across her.

He sighed, fanning her face with the warmth of his breath. She could feel his sweat tugging at her own skin, as he grew more deep inside of her she gave a small shriek, and breathed, her forehead against hers.

"You're mine now Granger," he muttered inaudibly, and she closed her eyes, unaware of small droplets of tears streaming across her face.

---

To Be Continued...