TITLE: Experience 10

Author: Snippy



SUMMARY: Love triangle between Harry/Draco/ Hermione. Virginal Hermione decides to let Malfoy seduce her and enlists Harry's help!

DISCLAIMER: Only the plot is mine. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco and the rest all belong to JKR. Sniffle

A/N's: So, as many of you may already know, "Angeldevotee" is AKA "Snarky" of Snippy and Snarky. Being her sister, I have gained her permission to finish her story "Experience", hence its new posting under "Snippyandsnarky". Hope that's not too confusing for everyone. Also, in case you were wondering, Snarky has become a legitimately published author, whose works can now be found in ebooks and in print at your local Borders!

P.S. I am also actively seeking beta for this story – all my betas tend to be H/D shippers, so I'm not expecting them to take up the task . . . though, Camille and Fred, if you want to – it's all yours!

Draco strode into the Great Hall, his robe swirling around him as he walked. He regarded the room from under lowered silver lashes, a smirk curving his full lips. Most of the female occupation of the room sighed wistfully as he passed by. He locked eyes with Blaize and gave him the quintessential male head nod greeting. He caught Hermione's eye as he passed her and Harry sitting at the end of the Gryffindor Table. He blew her a kiss, and offered Harry a mocking salute.

Harry gritted his teeth, eyes fixed on Malfoy as he sat down amongst his cronies. The blond met Harry's eyes, his smirk growing as he whispered something to Pansy that made her snicker, a sly look on her face. Harry felt a growl building in his chest.

"Harry, for God's sake, stop it," Hermione cautioned, reaching a hand across the table to catch his shirt sleeve, tugging gently to get his attention.

"I can't help it, the guy just gets under my skin," Harry sneered. He looked down at her delicate fingers firmly clutching the shirt cuff. Swiftly he turned his wrist, catching her hand in his. His eyes met Hermione's. "Walking around like he thinks he's the hottest guy here, looking at you like he owns you – it brings out something possessive in me." He smiled darkly and sat back, his voice too soft as he said, "It kind of makes me want to break his neck."

Hermione swallowed. His green eyes were flashing with anger, lust and possession; it was intoxicating, irresistibly attractive. And she had to admit, after witnessing a few private training sessions Harry was now doing to prepare for the inevitable, she knew he was packing more than his share of power. She thought about all of the magical duels that she had won against him in practice and the nagging feeling she had that he was holding back – the feeling that she had ignored because she liked to win. A lot. Harry could be dangerous – if he wanted to be. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the butterflies that had taken wing in her belly to stop fluttering quite so wildly. She tried to pull her fingers out of Harry's grip before the rest of the table noticed. "Harry, I really don't think we can do this."

"Oh, I'm quite certain, we can." Harry pushed away thoughts of Malfoy, focusing his attention on the brunette across the table. Hermione blushed.

"But Ron, and Ginny –"

"Are already pissed at us, and convinced that we're doing it already," Harry replied evenly. "They're going to be mad even if we never touch again. So if we have to deal with the fallout anyway, we might as well see if this could be worth all this trouble."

Her eyes widened. Careful logic was not Harry's usual approach. "Harry…"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to say that this is how I wanted everything to work out. But I did know this was a possibility." Harry's voice lowered an octave as he whispered, "And even then, I couldn't keep my hands off you."

Hermione took a long sip of her pumpkin juice, fighting the urge to fan her face. She had to do something to get that look out of his eyes. "So, I take it you saw the dream, since you didn't come back to the room last night."

"Yes, I did." Harry did not elaborate.

"Bet that made you mad, huh?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest, willing him to stop looking at her like that.

"Among other things," Harry replied with a small smirk. "It was very … enlightening."

Her attempt to distract him back to being angry wasn't working. Hermione abruptly stood up, motioning for Harry to follow her. Harry rose from the table with an eyebrow raised, making sure to catch Malfoy's eye as he stood. Harry nodded at Hermione walking determinedly towards the door in front of him, and gave the blond a wide smirk of his own, before quick stepping to catch up to Hermione as Draco looked on, scowling.

Hermione led Harry down a dark corridor, stopping abruptly and whirling around. "Listen, Harry, this has to stop!"

"Why?" Harry tried to keep the petulant tone out of his voice as he stared at Hermione. He had received an owl from Sirius this morning, and so far his Godfather's advice had managed to shake her quite a bit. He could only hope Sirius would be as forthcoming with good advice once Harry had made good on his promise to fill Sirius in on all the details, instead of the vague story that Harry had given him so far.

"Because, it wasn't supposed to be like this!" Hermione cried. "It was supposed to be simple. It's simple with Draco, it's not simple with you."

"I see," he said, softly. Harry gripped her chin firmly, tilting her face up and forcing her to meet his eyes. "You want me to give up, let Malfoy have you?"

"Y-yes. I do." Hermione wished her voice sounded a little more sure.

Harry swiftly pushed Hermione back against the wall, pressing his body full length down hers. "I don't think it's about simple. And I don't think you want me to give up."

"I don't?" Hermione's heart beat wildly in her chest. She should shove him away, tell him again that she wasn't interested, but she had never expected this kind of response from Harry. She felt completely taken off guard.

"No, you don't. There's something there between us, Hermione and you know it." His green eyes burned with intensity. "You feel it."

"I know there is, Harry," she said softly. "That's why I can't do this. I'm … not looking for something that permanent right now."

"No, I don't think that's true." Harry shook his head. "I think that's your excuse, because you just have it in your mind that you want a bad boy." He reached down, taking her wrists in his hand and pinning them slowly to the wall above her head, noting the lack of resistance she put forth. "I could see it in your dream. You want me, not him. You just don't think I'm bad enough." His eyes burned with that dangerous glint that had unnerved her earlier.

"Harry –"

"And furthermore, you're afraid that I only want you because Malfoy does." Harry watched as Hermione looked down, her avoidance of his gaze as good as a confession. "But it's not about him. It's about how much I want you. And how much you want me."

Harry leaned down and covered Hermione's lips with his own in a fierce kiss. He took her mouth with command, passion and tenderness. She gave in to her body's natural response, opening her mouth and arching up in to his body. He finally broke the kiss off when they were both panting. He met her eyes as he released her and backed away.

"Harry," she whispered helplessly.

"You know it, don't you?" Harry looked at her knowingly, the brash confidence reminding her of someone … she couldn't put her finger on it, but it was thrilling.


"That you're going to have to choose." Harry smirked at her. "And that it's going to be me."

Hermione stared at him, marveling at how much her perception of Harry had shifted in the past few days.

"Just remember ..." He strolled backwards toward the main passage, never breaking the connection between their eyes. "I can be as bad as you want me to be."

As he finally reached the main corridor and disappeared from sight, Hermione leaned her head back against the wall, closed her eyes and blew out a loud breath towards the ceiling.

Harry sat at the Divination table he shared with Hermione with smug satisfaction written all over his face. After the carefully coached scene he had put on this morning, he couldn't wait to see what Hermione would do next. He kept his gaze focused on the door, waiting to spot her among the other early arrivals.

Harry's eyes caught on a flash of platinum hair. No … no, no, no. What is he doing here?

Draco strode through the doors, moving quickly to speak with the professor as she prepared in the center of the room. Harry's attention was so focused on trying to hear what the so-called Prince of Slytherin was saying, that he didn't notice Hermione sit down next to him.

"What are you staring at, Harry?" Her voice was just a tad too practiced for the casual tone she attempted.

Silently, he nodded his head at Malfoy.

"What is he doing here?" Hermione squeaked, covering her mouth too late to mute the sound. Draco looked up and flashed her a wicked smile, as he and the professor moved closer to Harry and Hermione's table.

"So, you see, professor, considering my family's history of having 'the sight', my mother felt it was only proper that I explore whatever ability I may have before I graduate, and not grievously miss the opportunity for your expert tutelage." He gave the owl-eyed instructor a smile that would melt ice on a summer day.

"Excellent, Mr. Malfoy. I am so pleased to see you taking initiative in your education, however belated it may be." Trelawney glanced around the room. "Hmmm, unfortunately, everyone's already been paired."

"Oh, that's ok, I'll just join a group and try to catch up." Draco pretended to scan the tables. His eyes lit on Hermione. "That group seems closest, I'll just sit here." He plopped down between Hermione and Harry, grinning widely. "You don't mind, right, Potter?"

"Actually –"

"Yes, yes, that's good. We must keep a good eye on our Mr. Potter here – the more students who have a chance to divine his sorry to say, very dark fate, the better." The professor spoke over Harry's half voiced protest.

"Oh, goody," Harry sighed.

Draco caught Hermione's eye as Trelawney started her lesson. "Hey there, beautiful."

"Gag me." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Gladly," Draco replied without looking at him. "Just say when, Potter."

"For you to leave? Does seven years ago work for you?"

"Stop it!" Hermione hissed. Maybe she should have been paying better attention in this class - it wasn't that she even believed in Divination, but it was a requirement that everyone have some experience with the art if they wished to work at the ministry, as she did. And if it was worth anything at all – maybe she could have seen this development coming.

"Yeah, Potter. You're upsetting our girl, here." Draco casually let his arm rest on the back of Hermione's chair.

"She's not your anything yet, Malfoy."

"Yet. Glad you recognize that, Potter. Divination lessons must be paying off for you." Malfoy smirked, softly twirling a lock of Hermione's hair around two of his fingers.

Hermione grasped Malfoy's hand and tugged it away. "Stop it, Draco."

"I love how you say my name when you're furious. It's almost the way you say it when…" Malfoy smiled lasciviously. "Well, let's not discuss it now. Maybe too much for Potter's virgin ears."

Hermione stared straight ahead, trying to breath calmly and pretend she couldn't hear either of them. There was nothing she could do about the bright blush on her face.

Harry's fists were clenched under the table, but he managed to keep his tone even as he said, "I assure you, Malfoy, no part of me is virgin."

"Well, well, Potter, that was very forthcoming of you." Draco's eyebrows swept up in amused surprise. "Didn't know you liked it up the –"

"Holy Cricket!" Hermione shouted, gaining the attention of the class. She shrugged helplessly at them. "Er – I saw a bug."

Harry and Draco were now glaring at each other across the table. Trelawney made some announcement, and then turned her attention from the class. The rest of the class were now huddled over their respective tables, speaking in hushed tones.

"Now what?" Harry scowled.

Draco scowled mulishly back.

"Maybe if you two had been paying attention instead of trying so hard to embarrass me, you would know what we're supposed to be doing right now," Hermione gritted out.

"Embarrass you?" Draco asked, looking her over appraisingly. "Surely me bragging about how beautiful and sexy you are is not embarrassing for you."

Hermione blushed. "I hardly think that bragging about me was what you were doing."

"Then you weren't listening close enough," Draco's smile heated her blood. Curling his finger back in her hair, he tilted her head towards him, his lips brushing her ear, as he whispered, "I was making a reference to how sexy it is when you say my name in that breathless voice, when you're naked and trembling beneath me…"

Hermione shivered, pulling away. She couldn't meet Harry's eyes, afraid he might have over heard Draco's comments, terrified he would be able to read the confirmation in her eyes. Silently, she tried to pull herself together. She had told Harry that she was going to sleep with Draco, had told him this morning that she had chosen Draco, so why did it matter so much what Harry thought about her? Was she really so shallow that his promise that he could be as bad as she wanted him to be really increased her interest? Was she reconsidering?

Harry had indeed heard every word Malfoy had said, and correctly read Hermione's reaction, but he used the momentary distraction to move his chair around the table, placing himself on the other side of Hermione, and turning sideways so he faced her and resting an elbow on the table. When she pulled away from Malfoy, she bumped into Harry's chest, giving a little shriek. Harry smiled as he met her surprised eyes, remembering what Sirius had said about not engaging your rival – he had to keep Hermione focused on her and himself. If he engaged Draco he brought her attention back to the blond, and gave her the impression that Harry was more focused on winning than on his attraction to her – a big mistake.

Hermione bit her lip, flustered beyond speech for the first time in her life.

Harry winked at her. "Should have figured you for screamer, 'Mione."

"Harry!" The rest of Hermione's admonishment was cut off by Professor Trelawney's instructions to put their dream beads on the table, and make notes of their color, shape and size before returning them to their partners.

"So, what are we supposed to be doing?" Harry asked quickly, before she could say anything else.

Hermione heaved a heavy sigh. "Talking about our dreams."

"What's this, then?" Malfoy asked.

"Professor Trelawney assigned us a dream project. We catch our dreams on these dream-catchers, then exchange them and watch them," Hermione explained. She reached into her bag and pulled out the dream bead containing Harry's dream. She motioned at Harry, and he reluctantly provided the one that held Hermione's dream. Hermione set both of them carefully in a small glass dish in the middle of their table.

"You share each other's dreams? That seems very intimate," Draco stated, his brown knotting.

"It really is," Harry said softly in Hermione's ear. She visibly jumped. Was it even possible for her to blush more than she was right now?

"Keep dreaming, Potter. That's as intimate as you're going to get," Malfoy growled back.

"Knock it off, you two!" Hermione covered her eyes with her hands. "Let's just work on the assignment, please?"

"Sure. Should we start with your dream or with mine?" Harry asked, mischief in his eyes.

Hermione gulped, realizing that discussing either of their dreams was going to do little to change the topic of conversation or alleviate the tension at their table.

"Nobody cares about your dreams, Potter." Draco grinned.

"Well, then, how are things coming along here? Having a disagreement, boys? I sensed a lot of tension forming in this corner of the room." Trelawney's dreamy voice startled the awkward trio.

"No, no problems here," Hermione piped up. "We were just, uh, discussing what to do next."

"I think what you must be sensing is our confusion about how to proceed," Draco said smoothly, with a charming smile. "Since we have an odd number, where do we go from here?"

Trelawney frowned in thought. "You are right, Mr. Malfoy, that is exactly what I was sensing."

"Professor, perhaps I should review these dreams, so I can make additional notes," Draco suggested.

"But then we wouldn't see your dreams!" Hermione pointed out the small flaw without thought.

"Anxious to see my dreams, pet?" Draco drawled.

"I'm just trying to be fair," she protested, her cheeks still burning.

"I don't mind playing catch up. Especially on my sleep," Draco said cheekily. He turned his silver eyes back to the professor. "I can produce a dream bead by next class. That is, if you think that is the best way to go about this, professor."

"You got a little brown something on your nose, Malfoy," Harry sneered.

"I don't see anything," Trelawney commented.

Draco visibly choked back his laughter at the irony of her statement, as he gave Harry 'the finger' behind her back. "You'll have to excuse Potter. Apparently muggleborns don't learn manners."

Hermione glared at him. "And apparently pure blood and all the money in the world won't buy them, either."

"Ouch, kitten. That almost hurt." Draco held a hand up to his heart as if shot. "Did I hurt your feelings? Because you are obviously the exception to every rule."

"You mean the rules you learned being a Junior Death Eater?" Harry shot back, in an attempt to encourage Hermione's ire with the other man.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, not saying a word, her mouth drawn in a tight line as she stared at Draco as if daring him to answer Harry's accusation.

"Careful what names you're tossing around there, Potter." Draco's eyes frosted. "I might start thinking you're not playing around anymore."

"You want me to get serious, Malfoy? I promise it won't turn out well for you," Harry growled back, his eyes begging for a fight.

"Just dying to get your hands on me, are you, Potter? I get it." Draco smirked, the expression baring his teeth. "Everyone else you know is."

Trelawney blinked owlishly at them. "Aha! I knew there was tension here." She moved around their table to regard the three of them through her bottle thick glasses. "This will be most interesting. This level of emotion will try to resolve itself in your dreams. Perhaps, with the addition of Mr. Malfoy to your group, you will be able to see the resolution of your troubles in your dreams." Trelawney smiled widely, as her voice took on dire notes. "Or perhaps the dark consequences if you do not resolve them."

Trelawney dismissed the class. Draco leaned across the table and scooped the dream beads off the table. "So what do I do with these?"

"Figure it out yourself." Hermione grabbed her bag and was out the door before Draco could blink. Harry remained at the table, glaring at Draco as the other students filed out. Soon the two of them were the only students left in the room.

"Mr.'s Malfoy and Potter, was there something else you wanted?"

"Just figured I'd stay to help Malfoy catch up on the assignment. He's a little slow." Harry's eyes were locked on Draco's.

"Then I will leave you to it." She moved to the door. "Please be careful, Mr. Potter. I see dark things in your near future…"

"Yeah, I'm sitting across from them," Harry muttered as she closed the door behind her.

"You got something to say to me, Potter?"

Harry just smiled. "Something like that."

Draco perused the room in a lazy fashion. "Well, I think we're alone now."

"Just what are you playing at, Malfoy?"

Draco buffed his nails on his collar. "Surely even you know what I'm playing at, Potter."

"She's a mudblood to you."

"Language, Potter!" Draco mockingly gasped.

"It's not a game. I am not playing." Harry leaned back in his chair, his eyes seeming wary and all too perceptive. Suddenly Harry's posture seemed too non-threatening … lulling. He reminded Draco of a snake coiled and watching him with glittering eyes. It had occurred to Draco that if Harry really was the Savior of the Light, it probably wasn't because of his looks. But how good was Harry – could he be a real threat?

"Well, well, Potter. Finally grew a pair, eh?" Draco mocked while continuing his appraisal.

"If I were you, I'd stay away from her from now on." Harry's eyes flashed, promising Draco pain.

"I'd try, but she's clever. She'll just find a way to sneak into my pants." Draco gathered his things in to his bag with an imperious sweep of his arm and rose to his feet. "Taking advantage of me in dark hallways, she's a playful little minx."

Potter growled at him. Actually growled at him.

"Maybe you better have a talk with your girl, Potter." Draco crossed his arms over his chest. "You know – the red-headed one you're actually supposed to be shagging."

Potter continued to glare, but a pained expression had crossed his features. Bull's eye. "Mind your own business, Malfoy."

"I just thought you might have misplaced her as well." Draco smirked and turned on his heel and walked to the door. "If you're looking, you'll find her trying to get into my pants, too."

Hermione was absolutely seething. She stalked all the way up to Gryffindor Tower, but stopped short of entering the Common Room. Ginny would be in there and Hermione did not have the patience to pretend that she was still ashamed of what had happened between her and Harry. She knew she should feel bad. She was just too angry to feel anything besides anger at this moment. So she turned on her heel and stalked down to the dungeons, determined to give the source of her ire a large, verbal piece of her mind.

Of course, it never occurred to her that once she made her way down to the dungeons, she wouldn't actually be able to enter the Slytherin Common Room. The thought stopped her directly in her tracks and she slapped her hand hard against the stone wall, exclaiming, "For crying out loud!"

"That could be arranged, I assure you, Granger," an aristocratic voice drawled behind her.

She spun and found Draco way too close for her to maintain a proper breathing rhythm. "Malfoy!"

"See? There's a good start, already." He tugged her hard against his body. "Want to see if I can make you scream instead of just cry?"

"I really don't want to talk to you right now," she bit out, forcing her arms to cross over her chest, despite his embrace.

"Oh? You came all the way down to the dungeons to not talk to me? Wouldn't it have been easier to not talk to me from your private room?"

"No, because you wouldn't have been there to witness it," she replied brashly, further angered by his point.

"Is that an invitation to your personal chambers? I accept." He grinned wolfishly.

Hermione made what could only be described as a cry of inarticulate rage, and made as if to strike him, but he quickly tightened the circle of her arms, trapping them crossed over her chest.

"Did I ever tell you you're angry when you're beautiful?" He asked with a grin, shifting a little, but easily quelling what were admittedly half hearted struggles.

"Stop it!" Hermione demanded. "I'm still mad at you!"

"So?" He pushed her back against the stone wall. "You want to see what angry sex would feel like?"

"What?" she gasped, feeling a little shocked.

"Oh, give over, Granger. Surely you see the allure. Honestly, before I realized how accommodating a glass of champagne could make you, I figured angry sex was mostly what we would be having." He paused, pulling his lower lip between his teeth lasciviously, then his voice dropped to that seductive timber that could make a nun shake. "Constantly."

She shook her head. She was still angry, but was having a hard time holding onto why exactly. Draco looked up and down the hallway, and having ascertained their privacy, he circled her wrists in one hand and tugged her impatiently after him.

"Draco! Where are we going? What are you doing?" Hermione stumbled after him, unable to retract her hands from his grasp.

He opened a door and without ceremony, pushed her into what could only be described as … a broom closet. He pulled the door shut, pushing her against the wall, so she was facing away from him and securely tucking his front against her back. "To answer your questions, my brainy little Gryffindor, a broom closet and this."

Draco slid his hands smoothly up her thighs and under her school skirt. He must have used some kind of charm, because in a second she felt cool air on her intimate flesh and one of his long, elegant fingers pushed into her hot, wet entrance, eliciting a sharp gasp.

"Fuck, Granger," he murmured. "I guess you can see the benefits of angry sex. You're so wet …"

Draco's free hand pressed against the wall in front of her face, supporting his weight as he began slowly exploring the inside of her body with his practiced fingers. He lowered his lips to the back of her neck, gently nibbling and kissing along her nape and shoulders, causing gooseflesh to rise on her creamy skin. He felt a fresh wave of liquid hit his fingers, and she felt his smirk against her neck.

"Like this, do you?" He asked teasingly as his thumb brushed lightly over her clit. She moaned, trying to cut it off by biting her lip, but not really succeeding.

"Stop it," she moaned.

"Do you really mean that?" He moved his thumb in a circular motion as he twirled his finger in insidious circles inside her.

Hermione groaned loudly, her body arching and twisting to offer him access, subjugating her to his will almost involuntarily. "Draco!"

"Yes?" He purred in her ear. His lips lowered to her neck, sharp teeth closing on her nape like a wolf laying claim to his mate. She shrieked, her body clenching around his fingers. She was strung as tightly as a bow, perfectly under his control, under some spell of passion, the headiness of forbidden adrenaline pitted against fury's heat.

"Holy fuck!" She couldn't remember ever saying that word before. Nothing had ever been so compellingly appropriate to the feelings sweeping through her.

"Shhhhh … you're going to get us caught, sweet," he soothed. Then he twirled his fingers again.

Hermione leaned forward and bit into his forearm, muffling her cries as he continued to play her body like it had been built just for him. Draco pushed up against her, and she could feel the hard, heavy length of his erection pressed against her. She bit harder and felt his reaction. Apparently, Draco liked it a little rough. She mentally shook her head at herself. That should not be in any way hot. But it was.

"Yeah, close your eyes, Granger," he whispered huskily. "Just let it happen. You know you fantasized about this. About being accosted in the hallway by a strong man, one not remotely interested in your brain – pushed to the limit by your body. You know you imagined being touched, being ravished, somebody giving it to you exactly the way you wanted, without you having to admit how much you wanted it." His lips caressed the shell of her ear as he spoke, his words hotly blowing through her. "And you know that when you pictured it, the guy who took you … was me."

Hermione's knees buckled. Draco caught her easily in his sinewy arms, holding her in place against the wall.

"That's ok, honey," he whispered, his voice warm and rich. "Every now and then, I imagined it, too."

"Draco …" She moaned, pushing back against him.

He stepped back, just to spin her around to face him. He pulled her roughly against his chest, burying his hand in her thick, cinnamon curls. Draco stared at her as if he was about to devour her whole.

He descended, his lips taking hers in a searing kiss that she could feel all the way through her body into her toes. Each brush of his tongue, of his soft lips seemed to shake her to the core, leaving her hot, wet and wanting. Finally he released, looking deeply into her eyes as he said, "Tomorrow night. My private chambers."

"Tomorrow …?" Her brow furrowed in confusion. He stared back at her evenly for a second before sweeping a scorching glance up and down her body. She gasped. "Holy Cricket!" There was a small pause. "Wait …why tomorrow?"

"Too soon or too long to wait?" He asked lazily, his predatory expression fixed enough to make her heart pound.

"Well … I mean … then, I won't see you … tonight or anything?" She asked, cursing herself for sounding disappointed, and absolutely unable to consider the implications of what he wanted to do with her tomorrow.

"I wanted to give you time to prepare." Draco smirked. "Besides, I have some dreams to watch."

Hermione bit her lip. "You have a few days. You could watch them later."

"Hermione Granger suggesting I put off school work? I'm shocked!" He stepped closer, a mischevious light in his eye. "Are you that eager? I'm flattered," he whispered hotly in her ear, before stepping back again. "But I'm afraid my studies must come before your voracious appetite."

"But –" She cut herself off, not wanting to sound that desperate.

Draco studied her face for a moment, considering. "Oh, I see. Something in those dream beads you're nervous about me seeing?" He put his hands on the wall on either side of her head, capturing her gaze. "Were they about Potter or me?" She squirmed. "Or maybe … both?" He grinned at her blush. "How naughty of you. I can't wait."

"Draco –"

"Sorry, luv. I'd like to stay and chat, but suddenly I'm exhausted. Think I'll take a nap."


"You're really sparking my curiousity, pet. The more you fight it …" His voice dropped an octave. "The more I want it."

Her stomach did delicious flips at his tone. She gave up the argument, she would just be delaying the inevitable. "Sorry, I just really wanted to come tonight."

"Oh, you can come tonight, Granger. You should think about me when you do." He swept open the door of the closet, holding it wide in mocking courtesy. "I don't mind."

"So when tomorrow?" Hermione blushed at her own eagerness. "Just so I can come up with an appropriate excuse."

Draco laughed as he headed back towards his own common room, smirking and issuing her a jaunty salute with two fingers. "You can always tell them you wanted your knickers back."