--The New Hermione—

Hermione woke with heaving gasps, clutching her bed sheets. She was spread out, taking up all the room on her double bed and her heart was pounding.

She quickly glanced outside of her bed's curtains to see if she'd woken any of her roommates with her heavy breathing and, no doubt, moans, but there wasn't any movement from the other beds.

She sighed in relief and curled herself under the blankets once again. This was the third time this week that she'd woken in such a manner, and she knew the cause. Who would guess that Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age, Hogwarts' Know-It-All, meek and prissy muggleborn was having wet dreams about--

Bathilda Bagshot authored A History of Magic.

She tried, like the good little witch she was, to block out the pounding feeling in her gut. After all, she wasn't going to get any satisfaction from it tonight, so what was the point? She closed her eyes and thought of the authors of every book she'd read that month, hoping to have an uneventful sleep the rest of the night.


But she didn't. She woke as agitated and unsettled as she had been the night before. And apparently, she was late, too. She quickly dressed in her now empty room, barely glancing in the mirror at her messy hair, and went out the door to the Great Hall for breakfast.


"So what d'you reckon is keeping Hermione?" probed Ron.

"Beats me." Harry was furiously scribbling something for the Transfiguration essay he'd forgotten about the night before.

Ron continued stuffing toast into his mouth for a few moments, then choked on it.


Hermione strode into the Great Hall, her hair a glorious mess streaming behind her, her shirt badly misbuttoned, and her skirt wonderfully high in back. The eyes of most males in the room and many females looked at her conspicuious entrance, gawking at the Brains of the Golden Trio.

"Hey guys!" Hermione peppily greeted as she approached the Gryffindor table. She saw their lingering stares. "What's going on?"

The rest of the hall went back to their breakfast, but Harry and Ron didn't exactly know how to tell her….

"Well, Hermione," Harry began, "You look quite a bit…"

Like sex, thought Ron.


She took a mirror out of her pocket and gasped, "Oh, my hair!"

But Ron didn't see a problem with it. Hermione grabbed a piece of toast and ran to the nearest girls' bathroom.


She was walking frantically outside of the hall, when who passed but—

"Damn, Granger, what happened to you?"

"I woke up late, Ferret. Leave me alone." She tried to pass her steady blush off as frustration. She did NOT need him to know that he was the one she—

Goblin silver repels dirt, imbibing only that which strengthens it.

"Well maybe you should do it more often." He sauntered away. "Mudblood!"

She continued walking, hiding the small smile that crept onto her lips at a very inappropriate time….


By lunch time, she was tidy enough to have that frazzled-hyper-intense-prissy-school-girl vibe back, so all was right with the world. She was scribbling on the latest potions essay whilst her two best friends somehow managed to eat the entire contents of the Hogwarts kitchen. This was a normal picture for them, everyone was doing what they were best at, but Hermione's mind was wandering, as it often did when no one noticed.

Sure she was writing an impeccable essay, but her thoughts were flowing to other, less academic things.

The Elixir to Induce Euphoria has the occasional side effects of excessive singing and nose tweaking, although this can be counter-balanced by adding the appropriate amount of peppermint…

Those are the words her quill wrote. But her mind was on a different kind of euphoria, one that no one knew she wanted, and as her quill kept scribbling on the tired parchment, her gaze rose to the Slytherin table.

His blond head nodded at something one of them said, and he raised his glass in his hand; apparently they were toasting something. Her eyes traced his fingers, masculine and capable. At least, they were capable if they could do what she dreamed about last--

"HERMIONE!" Ron shouted at her. Apparently this wasn't the first time.

"What is it Ron? You know how I get when I'm doing homework!"

"I was just saying, Harry and I are heading to Transfiguration. Are you coming?"

"Yeah, let me just finish up and I'll meet you there."

Yeah, let me have a few more sexual fantasies and I'll meet you there.

"Right then, bye." And they left. So she wrote. And she thought about how no one knew what she craved the most wasn't high marks. No one knew… And with a firm resolve she finished the sentence she was writing and began to pack her things up.

No one knew yet. But it was about time they did.


Right. So, everyone would know that Hermione Granger was a sex-crazed nymphomaniac with a lust for pleasure almost insatiable as her lust for knowledge.

The only problem was, how?

That night in bed, she laid awake, thinking about every possible scenario of her "getting some." Most of her fantasies consisted of a hot man taking her roughly on a desk during a standardized test. But they weren't having their N.E.W.T.s until the end of the year, and she definitely wasn't waiting that long…

She thought briefly of spells to enchant a man, but that would hardly be sexy in her eyes. Besides, some people forgot everything they did when under a love spell, so that kind of defied the point of her "coming out" of the sexually repressed closet.

Halfway asleep now, she was beginning to feel very wise and logical. Her problem in the past was that she was too shy to approach anyone… the obvious solution was to change this.

She smiled dreamily and fell asleep, looking forward to the day ahead.


She skipped Arithmancy. Never in her life before had she ever, for half of a second, given skipping a class any thought at all. Classes were meant to be attended. So she attended them. But she wasn't in Arithmancy today, because she had more important things to learn.

She waited in the empty classroom for them to approach. She had stolen the Marauder's Map from Harry and was using it now to track their position. Draco Malfoy (his name strung silkily across her mind now that she wasn't denying it) approached her location with Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. They were barely fifty feet away. She held her breath and peeked out of the window of the door.

They approached, and she held her wand in preparation.

The three of them walked past her in the hall, and with a deft flick of her wand Draco's bag split nearly in two.

"Damn, I'm going to be late. I'll meet you two in class."

She smiled with an almost Slytherin sneakiness. Her predatory urge was at a high, and with a lunge she darted out of the door and dragged Draco in.

Oh my god, what am I doing, I should be thinking about—charms, yes, charms. Name common hexes: Bat-Bogey Hex, Bedazzling Hex, Canary Transfiguration Hex—

But she didn't finish, because she had Draco against a wall and she suddenly wasn't thinking with her mind anymore.

His back was facing her, and she had her head in the end of his surprisingly soft blond hair. Her hand crept up his spine. She felt him tense up and try to turn his head.

"What the hell is going on? Who are you, what---"

But suddenly he was quiet as she pressed herself up against him, her breasts pushing into his back, her hips pressing into his ass.

"What are you doing?"

She smiled and brought her mouth to his neck, right below his ear. "Surely you of all people know what I'm doing."

She started kissing his neck then, softly biting, pressing him further into—

Holy shit, Hurling Hex, Knee-Reversing Hex, Stinging Hex, Twitchy Ears Hex—

He felt her sudden hesitation and reversed their positions. He was about to lean in toward her when he realized what was happening.

"Jesus—Granger?! Since when do you take strangers roughly in empty classrooms?"

Hesitation was still in the back of her eyes, and he grabbed her shoulders and brought his mouth to her neck.

"Couldn't resist me, huh? I knew it was only a matter of time…"

But that's when New Hermione returned. She moved her head quickly and found his lips for a passionate, biting kiss. Her hands untucked his school shirt and roamed over the sensuous geography of his abdomen.

"Please, Malfoy. What fun is an empty classroom?"

He stopped returning her kiss for a moment and looked at her, his eyes betraying his shock. Surely she wasn't saying she wanted to do it in a classroom that wasn't empty… was she?

She let out the sexiest laugh/smirk he'd ever heard and said tantalizingly, "I have something better in mind. Meet me here at ten o'clock." She drew away from him, and her hand lightly passed over the front of his pants. "Jesus, Malfoy, is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

If possible, the shock on his face deepened as she pressed past him and out of the classroom.

He was frozen for a moment, as if he'd been stupefied, which he was, spell or no spell. He quickly swung his head out the doorframe, his now loose shirt following him, and he watched as her hips slowly moved from side to side as she walked away from him.

Looking down at himself, he realized he couldn't walk the halls in such a state. He plopped desperately into one of the chairs in the classroom and tried to clear his head.

Shit. Okay, the elemental laws of transfiguration… are… sexy….and… holy fuck… um, Hagrid, Potter, Weasel, who else do I hate….


Hey, so, this is my first fic-- I'd greatly appreciate any reviews! Also, what do y'all think should happen next? Thanks for reading!