Disclaimer: I own NOTHING but the plot. The rest belongs to JKR.
Author's Note: Greetings, Gentle Reader! Welcome back! Show of hands, who got the lime and Corona reference in the summary?
Okay, a few rewrites, but not much is major...mostly just a few wording changes, along with the addition of Pansy's POV. Also, I put the defense back at the bottom, one, because there are some references to it in the reviews and I don't want some people going 'Mr. Moviephone? Do WHAT?' (ha ha, who's gonna scroll straight down and read it right now?), and two, because I don't feel like reading a buncha e-mails about how they don't personally think Draco or Hermione would do what they're about to. If that's you, great. You're entitled to your own opinion. So am I.
Thanks to my wonderful beta, Ellae!
October, 6th year.
"I'm bored," Draco Malfoy announced late one Friday night. The two Slytherins on the floor looked up.
Crabbe and Goyle were playing wizards' chess. Privately, Draco wondered why they even bothered. It always went the same way: the pair of them pushing their pieces around for an hour or so, neither one getting anywhere. Then if one actually did manage to capture the others' piece, (this was usually Crabbe, being the slightly more intelligent of the two, and almost always completely by accident), the other would fling the board across the room and jump up, declaring the captor a cheater.
Pansy Parkinson, his betrothed but not his girlfriend, was curled in an armchair, reading her Ancient Runes textbook. "So go patrol," she said in a distant voice, not looking up. "Maybe you'll catch a first year."
It was part of the prefects' duties to patrol the castle one night every weekend, usually from 8 pm to midnight. Draco usually blew this off, though Pansy at least attempted to do it once a week.
"I suppose I could. Nothing else to do," he sighed, getting up. "Want to come?" A few weekends back, they'd found an extremely private niche on the sixth floor. Maybe he'd get lucky again.
"I can't, I have to finish this chapter for the test on Monday," she sighed, turning a page and flipping her long dark hair behind her shoulder. "But I bet Granger's patrolling tonight. Go keep her company." She stopped reading for a moment, and looked up at him. There was a flash of amusement in her ice blue eyes and the flicker of a smile on her lips. Then she went back to reading.
That was the great thing about Pansy; they both knew they'd end up getting married someday, but for the time being, they didn't keep a leash on each other. There wasn't any point, as they'd end up married no matter what—their fathers would make sure of it. He knew he could go fool around with other girls without hurting her feelings or having her get all jealous-girlfriend on him.
Grinning, Draco got up and left the common room.
Pansy watched Draco leave the common room and bit back a sigh. Bloody Ancient Runes.
Sure, she didn't exactly like that he fooled around with other girls, but that didn't matter. She'd have him in the end. She had him now; he would make out and fool around with others, but it was almost always her he came to for release. And that was all that mattered. Better to let him get these little conquests out of his system while they were still at Hogwarts. Better for him to do it now, before they were married and it could still be blamed on teenage hormones, than after and be whispered about behind her back.
At least, that's what she told herself.
Besides, he wouldn't actually do anything with a mudblood. It would be the height of indignity. He knew she only meant for him to go mess with her a little.
It didn't take long to find Granger. She was on the fourth floor, walking the narrow corridor near the library. Draco didn't come out right away, instead watched her for a few minutes. Her long black school robe was hanging on a suit of armor. Despite seeing it everyday, the girls' uniforms still turned him on: a pleated gray skirt with a white oxford shirt, tie in the house colors, and either a gray sweater vest or full sweater, with house color accents at the collar. Granger wore hers with knee-high white stockings and black Mary Janes. And though he'd rather eat a thousand vomit-flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans than admit it aloud, she definitely wore it well. He let his eyes scan her body; he never got the opportunity to do this on his own. Her curves were subtly enticing, yet in an amazingly unaware way. She had no idea she was pretty.
Draco shook his head a bit to clear it; he was getting far too caught up staring at Granger. He'd come here for one reason. Well, two. He hadn't fooled around in awhile, or messed with Granger's head. Two birds…one stone.
This would be fun.
Hermione yawned widely and looked at her watch. Eleven PM. Another hour to go. She sighed. Would anyone really notice or care if she didn't do that extra hour of patrol? Didn't she always patrol every weekend night, unless she had an exam to study for? Not only that, she usually had Ginny with her. She didn't like being here alone so late. Glancing around, she freed her robe from the nearby suit of armor's helmet.
"You really shouldn't patrol alone, you know," a voice behind her drawled. She froze in pulling her robe back on. Whirling around, wand drawn, she saw Draco Malfoy standing in the corridor, right in her path...the same path she needed to get back to the common room.
"And why's that, Malfoy?" she asked, pulling her robe up and adopting a look of bored contempt.
"Anyone could come along and…do something to you. And we wouldn't want that," he replied, walking toward her.
"What do you want?" she asked, not backing away. She noted his look of annoyance that she wasn't the least bit intimidated.
"I thought it was a nice night for patrolling, that's all," he replied with a smirk, stopping in front of her. The corridor was too narrow to just walk past him. She toyed with the idea of jinxing him, but for some reason, that just didn't seem a wise thing to do. He was probably only here to mess with her, and jinxing him would just make it worse. Better to be the bigger person, take it, and get it over with.
"Hoping to find and punish someone younger and weaker than you, huh? My, my, Malfoy, some things never change." She crossed her arms and ignored the fact that he towered over her. Why was it that boys could grow six inches in six months, but she had to remain at a lowly 5'4"?
"Looks like I got lucky," he replied, the smirk turning to a grin.
"Hate to break it to you, Malfoy, but I've got about nine months on you."
The grin widened and his eyes darkened maliciously as he took a step closer. "And I've got about nine inches and forty pounds on you, Granger."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Thanks, I'll remember that. Now will you please move so I can go to bed?"
"So early? Aren't we supposed to stay until midnight?"
"Yes, but in the almost three hours I've been here, the only living thing I've seen other than you is Mrs. Norris. I think it's safe to say it's going to stay clear. What are you doing here, anyway? Don't Slytherins usually patrol the other side of the castle?"
"Usually that's true, but I was feeling a bit overachieving tonight."
"How lovely. Now move out of my way."
She sighed. "Please?" she asked, moving to go around him.
"No," he repeated, putting an arm out to block her way and taking a step toward her. She moved back instinctively. He moved around her, not moving his arm, and placed his other hand on the wall at her other side, neatly boxing her against the wall.
"Get back," she told him, struggling to keep her voice calm and hoping he couldn't hear her heart pounding in her chest.
He moved closer and she pressed herself to the wall. "Or what?" he asked in a quietly taunting voice.
"Or I'll curse you into next week, that's what. Now move," she spat out, raising her wand. He reached up and grabbed it from her, quickly tossing it over his shoulder with a grin.
"Make me," he whispered, lowering his head until his lips were just centimeters away from hers. She planted her hands on his chest—just as his lips captured hers and he pushed against her, pinning her to the wall. She pushed as hard as she could against his chest but he was too strong. He caught her wrists easily and held them behind her back with one hand. With the other hand, he reached down inside her open robe and ran a hand up the outside of her thigh, stroking a bit with his thumb. She started squirming a bit, then froze when he reached the hem of her skirt and pushed it up an inch or so.
He moved down to her neck. Hermione closed her eyes as he got to the spot right behind her ear, willing herself not to enjoy it. "Scared yet, Granger?" he whispered in her ear; she could hear the annoyingly familiar smirk in his voice. Her eyes flew open.
He's only doing this to mess with me. He doesn't want to…do that, she thought. Well, he wasn't going to pull a stunt like that and get away with it. No, she'd beat him at this little game he'd insisted upon starting.
Malfoy pulled back and looked at her. She widened her eyes in fake terror, bit her bottom lip, and swallowed hard. It worked, judging by the dangerous grin that spread across his face.
It's working, Draco thought in satisfaction, enjoying immensely the terrified look on Granger's face. Why not take it a bit farther?
He kissed her again, softly this time, and moved his free hand up to her shoulder, where he pushed her long black school robe down. It fell off and hung to the floor by their hands, his one still holding her two easily.
He'd just started inching his hand up her sweater when Granger's mouth opened as she touched her tongue to his. Then she pushed her body back into his, concentrating on his pelvic area.
Caught off guard, he released her wrists and laid his hands flat against the wall to keep from falling on her completely. Her robe fell to the floor as her arms snaked around his neck. Mostly to have something to do with his hands, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him.
He forgot momentarily his whole reason for coming here, which was not to be snogging a willing mudblood Hermione Granger against a wall, with his boxers becoming uncomfortably tight. All chance for thought and reasoning went poof! when she started stroking the back of his neck. He moaned against her mouth and pressed his hands to the wall again in a repeated effort not to fall on top of her. Or rip her clothes off.
Hey, didn't you come here for a reason? Get your mind back in your head and out of your pants! a voice in his head scolded. It sounded remarkably like that of his father.
Sod off, he replied.
Just as he was considering actually doing what he'd come here to make her think he wanted to do, she pulled away. He looked down at her, unconsciously grinning like an idiot. She grinned back before leaning up and kissing her way softly up his neck. His head rolled back as he bit back yet another moan.
"Granger 1, Malfoy 0," she whispered in his ear, stooping to retrieve her discarded robe before slipping out from under his arm gracefully. Then she bent and scooped up her wand, and started walking away.
Draco watched Granger walk back up the hallway, his mouth hanging open slightly in shock, and his hands still on the wall. He struggled to keep his eyes on the back of her head, and not on her slim hips swaying enticingly with each step. He lost that battle, happily; the Hogwarts uniform had never looked so good. When she got to the corner, she looked at him over her shoulder. He dragged his hungry eyes up to her face, where there was a small smile of victory, mixed with flirtation and an unspoken dare. She flipped her hair back and disappeared around the corner.
He turned and slumped against the wall, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Too bad she's not a Slytherin. He couldn't help but grin. Who knew she had it in her?
What the hell are you grinning about? You just lost, genius! the Lucius voice in his head screamed. Draco's grin disappeared. That hadn't gone right at all. The plan was simple: he was supposed to show up, mess with her a little bit, scare her out of her mind, and walk away. Instead, she'd outsmarted him.
She couldn't get away with this. He'd just have to try again.
And stop thinking about how soft the skin on her thigh was. And how good of a kisser she was. And…
Oh shut up! he yelled at himself mentally.
Hermione walked back to the common room slowly. What on earth had come over her? She never did things like that. What was she playing at, walking away all seductive-like and smiling?
Sure, she and Viktor had made out a time or two, but nothing like that. Had she actually enjoyed the forcefulness? Viktor had always been slow and gentle, careful not to push her farther than she wanted to go, even though he could have easily overtaken her anytime he wanted. And she appreciated that.
But Malfoy…he didn't trouble himself with other people's feelings. That came from being a Slytherin, she supposed. Take what you want, worry about who you're stepping on and hurting later, if at all. And that made him dangerous. How strange, to be less scared of Viktor Krum, a man who could have taken Malfoy out with one punch, than of Draco Malfoy himself.
She touched her mouth softly. Boy, could he kiss…turned out Parkinson wasn't talking herself up after all. Her lips curved into a small smile.
She was certain Malfoy wouldn't let her get away with it. There was sure to be payback sometime. And she was very surprised to find herself hoping he'd return in kind.
This would be a very interesting year.
More Author's Notes: Okay, here's the part where I defend my work.
I did my best to keep them in character. I can totally imagine Draco doing this, if he can't get anything from Pansy and wants to cause our favorite muggleborn a little emotional discomfort.
Let's look at the facts. Exhibit A: Draco's sixteen, and male; that speaks for itself. Exhibit B: Hermione's not unattractive; he's arrogant and haughty, not blind.
As for Hermione (I changed her look b/c JKR stubbornly refused to)...I don't think she'd take antics like that lying down. She couldn't exactly jinx him with no wand, and she's definitely no match for him physically, especially with her arms behind her back. So she had to use reverse psychology, and beat him at his own game.
Also, I know it seems like Draco has a touch of schizo there. He doesn't. Everyone has that little voice in their head; whether it sounds like a parent, a friend, or Mr. Moviephone, it's there. Besides that, he's an only child. He spends every holiday in a huge, lonely, possibly drafty and badly-decorated old house, with no one but himself or house elves to talk to. He certainly won't lower himself to talking to a lowly house elf, so that leaves only one option.
The defense rests.
Please be kind, review! I hope you liked it!