Another Draco/Hermione oneshot for you all!!

Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, do not own the Harry potter series, characters, and will receive nothing save an ego boost (if the oneshot goes well) in writing this.

I wish I had Draco, though, but, you know …

Author's note: this fic might include minor, very minor, dominance/submission bits, but not enough for it to be considered bondage.

Just slight dominance and so forth.

But in a sexy way.

This story takes place in their seventh year and we shall pretend Draco had never been involved in the events in 6th year. Or, if you want, pretend that he was under the Imperius Curse, to make life easier. Or something creative…

Plot: sex, sex, sex, and sex, and some …. Non-sex-ness…but mostly sex.

Edit (08/10/09): I've decided that this will NOT be a oneshot. I will be turning this into a PWP (Porn-without-plot). It won't be too long, I might add a minor plot for the fun of it, and each chapter will consist of a lesson. So, technically we have...chapter 1!

Lesson 1: The Art of Obediance

He couldn't believe he was doing this.

In all of his life, he had prided himself on several things and those things had always allowed him to excel above others.

But now…now he was doing the unthinkable.

Damn it, he shouldn't be doing this! It was wrong, all horribly wrong, and he knew that if anyone were to witness this act, his life would end.


Just that thought made him stop in his tracks, his footsteps no longer the only sound in the hallway, allowing him to hear the rushing of blood in his ears.

He was suddenly nervous.

Why? Why, of all things, did this make him nervous?

His lips twitched into a grim smirk and his eyes turned into grey ice as he mentally answered his own question.

His father would kill him.

At that very moment, the sniveling, whining coward he used to be, the part of him that he was actually ashamed of, came back with vengeance and nearly made him shake in his shoes.

He suddenly wanted to plead and cry, to fall to his knees before that horrid witch and sob and beg for forgiveness. He wanted her to take back those damning words, the words that, if heard by others, would end his life and ruin his reputation.

Damn his reputation to hell; he just didn't want to die.

Sighing heavily, he knew that he would have to give in; there was no way that the sniveling wuss would be able to change the past and, possibly, change the inevitable future. He would just have to do one of the things he, admittedly, was the worst at: giving in and dealing with it.


Damn the witch to hell and her fucking 'perfect student' who would be the executioner.

His footsteps started again, once more the only sound in the hallway, and he passed by the windows, where the setting sun's light played in crimson and orange rays on the stone floor.

Damn it, he was wasting his time. Right now, he could be downstairs, in the Great Hall, enjoying a nice meal after a long day of classes, but, instead, he was headed towards some lone classroom that he had been instructed to go to. Damn, he had never even known the classroom had existed in the school.

Then again, there were so many rooms people didn't know existed within the school, and he couldn't help but feel fortunate that, in the past six years, he had gotten to know most of the secret hideaways.

Except for the prison he was headed towards; that had been discovered by his executioner.

Another fucking blow to his ego that had, once upon a time, been fully intact.

He could hear it breaking now, crumbling into little piles of debris and dust at his feet, clunking and crashing against the floor he walked on, his feet stepping on his ego with loud, crunching noises.

Damn it all to hell. He was going to turn around and stop this damn execution.

His steps faltered once more as he paused two doorways down from the prison. Would he really be able to deal with this night of torture? The next few hours where his self-esteem would become completely obliterated along with his reputation and very life?

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

Running a free hand through his hair, he was momentarily distracted by the sudden length of it, realizing that, as the locks fell to his ears, he might soon need a haircut. However, he was rather grateful that he had ceased to gel it; it had begun to ruin his precious hair.

He wouldn't be thinking such thoughts when he was dead, though.

Fuck it all; he couldn't do this. He could not demean himself by doing such an unthinkable and unforgivable act. He would forever look in the mirror for the rest of the year and hate himself; he would actually want his father to Apparate and murder him in cold blood the second this damning session was over.

"You can't Apparate or Disapparate inside of Hogwarts." It was his executioner's voice, constantly reminding her damn friends of the obvious.

Damn her, if it weren't for her and her damn brain and stupid body, he would not be stuck in this horrid mess and would be downstairs, enjoying a delicious meal, and not wondering when the Grim Reaper (aka: his father) would appear to destroy him.

Damn it, damn it, and damn it again and again.

Those words were the only coherent ones that seemed to fill his mind, aside from the endless curses and whining words that either made him want to run back and beg or run to the hills and hide for the remainder of his life.

Damn it!

Nobody, nobody, would force Draco Malfoy to be tutored!

Except for that bloody Professor McGonagall, with her damn, wrinkled face, and ugly, pointed hat.

'My pointy hat is better,' he thought childishly, feeling strangely smug.

He would have to go to that damn classroom, sit tight for two damn hours, while the executioner babbled away about incantations and spells and wand-waving and all of that mumbo-jumbo he already knew.

But, of course, he had to do it or his life would end…


"Malfoy, are you even paying attention?"

He was bored, terribly, terribly bored, and had somehow managed not to yawn when replying yes, knowing fully well that it was a lie.

If the Professor asked him to recite what she had just said, he would be screwed, but he really didn't care at the moment.

His attention was beginning to become focused elsewhere…

He got lucky; the teacher turned away, telling the students more about wand movement and other crap that made transfiguration spells all the more efficient.

Or something like that; he really wasn't paying attention anymore.

His grey eyes, instead, had fallen on the girl seated two rows in front of him. He couldn't help it; for the past few days, it seemed that she had completely transformed before his eyes.

Her hair, which he would have once called a dull shit colour, had turned into a vibrant brown that was accented by the loveliest of natural golden highlights when the sun hit it just right. Not only that, but she had tamed it, turning it into soft waves that shimmered when she moved and perfectly accented her face.

That face, that damn, lovely face, heart-shaped, with a small nose, and the fullest, rose-coloured lips he had ever seen and found desirable. They were so kissable in their Cupid's bow shape, and, many times, he had felt a strange tightening sensation in his groin when he saw her tongue dart out to moisten those lips.

Last, but not least, where those captivating eyes of hers. The hazel irises filled with an immeasurable amount of intellect, kindness, and passion. The eyes that would gleam brightly when her lips curled upwards in the most beautiful smile ever, and then, the hazel would darken as she grew stubborn or irked, dark pools that made him want to drown in them.

Damn it, he loved her almond-shaped eyes, and seemed equally attracted to the dark, lush lashes that surrounded them and dusted her pale cheeks when the lids shut momentarily.

Then, of course, the eyes would open, once more alert and awake, entirely focused on whatever had made them open.

Damn it; he was falling for her, crushing on her, and he knew that he would either wind up fucking her brains out, or he would die.

His mind wandered, falling into a beautiful world where he met her in a hallway, both safe from prying eyes and condescending remarks, both able to indulge in one another.

There, they would kiss, their tongues would dance, and their hands would roam over their bodies, caressing each other first through their clothes, and then on bare skin as the clothes fell to the ground in heaps.

He would cup her mounds, which he imagined to be the softest things on earth, and he would tease the nipples into hard peaks. His would use his fingers first, never breaking their passionate kiss, until his lips and teeth would find her nipples, sucking, teasing, nipping, and biting until she cried out and begged for more.

She would cry out his name; in his fantasies, she always cried out his name.


It would be soft; her cry would be sensual, a murmured on her lips, which would soon turn into a scream of ecstasy as she rode him, impaled by his cock and pressed to the wall, gyrating her hips to get him deeper and to urge him to move faster.


She would moan his name as she convulsed around him, pressing her body closer to his.

"Draco Malfoy!"

He jerked his head up, suddenly aware of several dozen eyes focused intently on him. McGonagall glared down at him and he suddenly realized that he had just about fallen asleep in her class.

There was no way out of this one.

"See me after class."

It was spoken in a straightforward and matter of fact tone, the four words that had completely and utterly damned him for the rest of his life.

Of course, he wasn't aware of such a fate when he remainder behind at the end of class, barely noting that a certain brunette had also remained in her seat, waiting patiently for the room to empty.

"Malfoy," he lifted his head at the sound of Professor McGonagall's voice, "I must admit that I am quite surprised by your actions."

She was standing behind her desk, holding a paper in her hands and looking terrifyingly serious. His heart leapt; something told him that this was not going to be an enjoyable stay.

"While I would not normally keep a student behind for just falling asleep in class, I feel that I sometimes must make an exception if I need to." She glanced down at the paper again before looking back up. There was no sign of mercy in her eyes, only slight annoyance and that constant civilized seriousness that made him wonder if she ever laughed.

"Mr. Malfoy, while I know that you have been an excellent student in the past, I find that this year, so far, your grades had faltered." She set the paper down and crossed her arms. "That is to say; you are currently on the border of failing my class."

That stunned him. His heart skipped several beats, lungs paused for a second, and his jaw fell to his knees along with his stomach. He was dimly aware that he must have look rather silly, but it was hard not to gape in awe and horror when someone tells you that you are borderline failing.

Especially when 'you' are Draco Malfoy, Wizard Extraordinaire.

His father would bloody well kill him.

He huffed, crossing his arms, trying to find some excuse for his suddenly poor performance in this particular class. It had to be her fault; she was a constant distraction, forcing his eyes away from the teacher to gaze off into his daydreaming world where everything was perfect.

Of course, dreaming up this world of perfection had finally come with a cost; his reputation.

Damn it all to hell and back again.

"Tonight, you will spend two hours with Ms. Granger, here, at her location of choice, and you will be tutored." He wanted to shrivel up and die at that very second.

"A Mudblood teaching a Pureblood magic?" he cried out, leaping from his seat, banging his fists loudly on his desk. "That's unheard of! It's wrong! I refuse."

"Mr. Malfoy, you will refrain from using such profanities or I will have to remove points from the Slytherin house."

He could care less; his blood was boiling and his ego had been severely dented by the blow of her words. How dare she assume that a Mudblood would be able to teach him what was rightfully his? It was sacrilege, preposterous, and downright wrong.

He wanted to have a shouting match, to threaten her with his father and the power his father possessed, but the next words chilled his blood and cooled his rage.

"If you refuse to be tutored, I believe I will have to fail you. That will result in you being kept back a year, while the remainder of your friends and classmates graduate. Furthermore, if you fail, I will see to it that all of your privileges for your next year will be removed, including trips to Hogsmeade and playing Quidditch, since they seem to be a constant distraction."

She was wrong. It was that bloody girl who was distracting him, not a game on broomsticks or some trip to get candy and firewhisky. It was that bloody vixen who always spoke in the sexiest tones, whose eyes always glowed with a vibrant life, and who has hated him since their gazes first met.

Damn it, Granger, his bloody executioner was also his reason for being executed.

He could refuse, he could bring his father into the equation, but he wouldn't dare show his father his marks at this point in time. He couldn't dare fail, a Malfoy never failed at anything; they always came out on top. Hogsmeade trips and Quidditch he could live without for a year, but the deflation of his ego, the knowledge that he would be the first in his family to ever be held back, the removal of his pride, that is what made him choke back his cry of outrage.

He glared at the brunette, who had slowly stood up to look at him with disgust and annoyance. She, too, had wanted to protest, but she could not have wanted to protest as badly as he.

He had too much at stake here…

He had to say yes.

Present Time

Damn that Granger and her filled out body, damn her and her lush, curvy form that was hidden under flimsy, loose shirts and long, baggy skirts. Damn her and the way the sun hit her hair, the way her eyes lit with excitement, and damn her and the way she made him so aroused it actually terrified him.

Now, he would be spending the next two hours with her, isolated from the rest of the school, because of his damn ego.

Well, his life was also, literally, on the line, but still…

He stepped into the classroom, finding it lit by various sconces on the walls. How medieval.

The desks had been swept aside, most lining the walls or pushed to the back of the room, while in the middle, four desks were set up to form a table. A chalkboard stood by the teacher's desk, unused and too clean for his tastes.

Granger sat at the makeshift table, her hair pulled back into a small knot, a few loose curls framing her face. She was leaning over a book, her bag on the ground beside her, her face etched with lines of concentration and annoyance each time she glanced at her wrist.

He made his way over to the table, fighting back a myriad of emotions, ranging from his body's glee at being so close to his infatuation, while his ego's cursing and rants at how this would destroy a good part of his self-esteem for the rest of his life.

Sitting down to face her, he let his books fall on the desk in front of him, making her start with surprise. He grinned at he watched a lovely blush cover her cheeks; while he took careful notice of the way her shirt rose and fell rapidly.

"Malfoy, you prat," she cursed quietly, obviously unhappy at the current situation.

His smirked widened and he leaned forward, letting it fall into a serious, straight line, while his gray eyes became cold and calculated within mere seconds.

"Granger, I am making this clear, no one, and I mean no one, can know about this. Do you understand? If I find out that you told this to anybody, including damn Potty and Weasel, I will see to it that the rest of your final year at Hogwarts will be anything but enjoyable. Understood?"

She rolled her eyes in return, sitting back in her chair to cross her arms under her chest and look at him crossly. "Malfoy, you never change." Her voice held so much venom that he was surprised he was not dead from the poison.

Ignoring his childish glare, she leaned down and pulled a rather large book out of her bag, placing it carefully on the tabletop. He arched a brow, silently questioning her as to what the subject was.

Still, she ignored him and opened the book to a noted page before sitting back, crossing her arms a second time.

"Malfoy, do you know what we were discussing in class?"

He scowled at her with indignation, feeling the brunt of the blow on his ego as the words were spoken. "Of course I know what we were talking about," he snapped. "Let's get this damn thing over with so that I can go back to my room and wash away your Mudblood filth from my body."

A finely plucked brow rose in question and he swore that he saw her lips form a brief and sensual smirk.


What the bloody hell was wrong with him? Was he about to have another one of his damn daydreams?

Oh fuck.

She slowly stood up, pulling her wand out of the small pocket within her sleeve. The smirk was back, but this time it held no sexual hint that he had sworn he'd seen. This smile was devilish, filled with a teasing, malicious intent that, if he were not a Malfoy, he swore made him feel a few tremors of fear run through his body.

But, as he said, he was a Malfoy, and he would never admit to feeling such fear.

Instead, he sat back, crossing his arms and watched.

'She probably wants to put on some damn show. Wants to show off her special abilities and such and make me feel like some fool. Damn bitch.'

"So, since you were paying attention, tell me what we were talking about in class." She twirled the wand around in her hand, waiting patiently for him to speak up.

He felt beads of sweat form on the back of his neck as he was pushed further and further into the corner he wouldn't be able to escape from. Damn it, why did he have to lie and tell her he had been paying attention?

Pride, that's the answer; it was his fucking pride as a Malfoy. But, of course, that pride had gotten him stuck in this damn situation.

He quickly wondered if he should look, briefly, at the book opened before him, but something told him that the book would be opened to the wrong page on purpose.

She wanted to catch him.

Well, that wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

"McGonagall was talking about locking spells and silencing spells."

Her eyes widened briefly, perhaps in shock or maybe in curiosity, but it lasted for only a second before they narrowed again with devious intent.

"Good, now, tell me exactly what kind of locking spell and silencing spell we were discussing."

Shit, he had only paid attention long enough to hear the topic and then, once McGonagall had started talking, he had totally drifted off.

He had absolutely no clue what specific kind of locking or silencing spell they had been discussing.

He would have to make something up and then feign that he had misheard or was confusing it with another class.

That would be less of a blow on his ego than if he, a Malfoy, admitted that he had no clue.

"The, uh, silencing spell we were discussing," the beads of sweat made their way down his back, "was one we place on doors and walls, set up in such a way that people outside can't hear anything in the room, but the people in the room can hear what's going on outside. For example," he watched her facial reaction and felt a surge of joy as he noticed he was right, "if we were to put a spell like that on this room, we could hear someone outside, but they wouldn't be able to hear us."

"Good, Malfoy. Of course, you obviously didn't pay attention while Professor McGonagall," he noted the emphasis on Professor, "demonstrated how to perform the spell."

This is where he had to hang his head in shame before he, wordlessly, admitted defeat and acknowledged that no; he had not been paying attention. Lying would only cause more trouble, especially since he would probably be asked to perform the incantation and he had no clue what to say or do.

The smirk returned with a vengeance and she stopped twirling the wand. "Well, Malfoy, it seems that you don't know everything."

"But I do know a lot."

Damn him and his big mouth! Why did he have to go and say something like that?

'Malfoy, you're a fucking git.'

She arched a brow as her eyes flashed dangerously. He fought back the sudden urge to curl into a ball and hide from her.

"Oh really? I would, normally, ask you to tell me everything you know, but that would just be a waste of five seconds." She twirled her wand, quickly muttered a spell and the door to the room slam shut and locked. She then turned back to him, smirking in such a malicious way that it would've made Lucius proud. "I hope that you were paying attention, Draco, because I will be asking you to repeat that at the end of our session."

He stood up, eyes aglow with irritation. "What the hell was that, Granger? You're expecting me to be able to fucking repeat it? How the hell am I able to do that when you fucking mumbled the words?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him sternly. "You should have been paying attention. If you can't reproduce that charm by the end of our session, then I will have to tell Professor McGonagall to fail you."

"You bitch!"

"Don't even resort to calling me names, Draco; I'm not very happy either with this situation."

"So, instead of making it easier on us, you fucking pull this shit! What a bunch of fucking bullshit."

"You were the one who wasn't paying attention in class! It's your own fault you're stuck here."

"No it's not and you know it!"

Sighing heavily, she muttered another charm and smiled at him. "That was the silencing charm we learnt. I won't expect you to know it because, obviously, you don't know everything like you claim you do."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Malfoy, do you know the real reason you're stuck here?" She took a slow step forward.

He took an involuntary step backwards, knocking over the chair in the process. Her eyes were glowing with such fierce determination, such malicious intent, that it literally made his knees begin to quake. But, of course, him being a Malfoy, he couldn't let her notice such a thing.

"It's obvious; I wasn't pay attention to that bullshit class." He shrugged. "Besides, what the hell does that have to do with anything?"

She smirked and twirled her wand. Panic raced through Malfoy as he found himself unable to move.

'What the hell is Granger doing? Has she gone psycho?'

She stood a step forward and stopped in front of him, her face inches away from his.

"Wrong, Malfoy."

He…was he getting a hard-on? From being this close to Granger? Well…of course, it shouldn't seem too strange to him, since she was his fantasy girl. But, still, given the circumstances, he assumed that he would be too terrified to feel any bit of arousal.

He admitted, however, that the feel of her breath mingling with his, watching as her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips, that the situation was taking on a very sexual form.

She leaned forward so that her breasts pushed against his chest and he nearly let out a groan of arousal. She watched as his eyes glazed over with lust at the simple contact and smirked.

Her plan was coming along perfectly.

"Malfoy, the reason that you are here today if because you're a teacher's pet." She smiled. "You think that you can sway any teacher you get, talk your way out of punishments, and use every means possible to get your way. Professor McGonagall doesn't let you get away with it. That's why you're here…with me."

His eyes widened with surprise and shock. Him? A teacher's pet? Where in the world did she get such an assumption?

The again, he wouldn't mind being her pet.

So long as it wasn't too degrading for him and it wasn't that way all of the time…he liked being dominant, too.

"So, Malfoy," she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his throat. He let out a small growl of approval and shut his eyes as she moved her mouth and her tongue darted out to tease his earlobe. "Do you think that you can persuade me? I am the teacher, after all. So…will you try to be my teacher's pet? If you impress me enough then I think you can pass."

In the name of Salazar Slytherin, Granger's voice made his pants unbearably tight as pleasure began to course through his veins. He forced back another groan of delight as he felt her lips begin to move, placing soft butterfly kisses along his throat.

"So, Malfoy, what will it be?"

Her voice, despite is chocolaty, seductive tone, pulled him out of his state of arousal long enough for him to scream, 'What the hell is going on?'

He looked at Hermione and willed his mouth to move, noting that it did so. Wondering just what kind of freezing charm she had placed on his body, he frowned at her at the same time.

"Granger, what the hell is wrong with you?"

She slowly stood back before tugging off the sweater she wore over her blouse. The blouse, he noted, was very tight across her chest, and he only realized at that point in time that Granger was very well endowed.


Letting the sweater fall to the ground, she began a slow, seductive walk around Malfoy, trailing her hands across his chest and back, adding further emphasis to the sexuality of the situation. Once at his back, she leaned forward, pushing her breasts against his back, and teased his throat with her tongue.

"I know that you've been watching me," she whispered.

Draco's eyes widened with shock as his cock jerked in arousal. She…she knew? Then what…how…what the fuck!

"If you want, I'll let you in on a little secret." She nibbled on his earlobe before letting out a soft moan as her hands moved to suddenly squeeze his buttocks.

If he could have, he would have, literally, jumped at the sudden feel of her hands on his butt. That was…strangely arousing. Of course, she had only grabbed the cheeks, not…'DON'T THINK ABOUT THAT!' he screamed as his erection threatened to fade.

Instead, he decided to play along with the situation, wondering, curiously, if this was simply a ploy of hers to get him to admit something embarrassing or perform embarrassing actions.

"Well, Granger, I think that I would like to know this little secret of yours." He smirked the typical Malfoy smirk even though she couldn't see it.

He would go along with this and if, in the end, it turned out to be some kind of ploy of some sort, then at least he would have good masturbating material for the next few months.

Naked Granger commanding him to lick her sweet, wet cunt…Damn, that was a good fucking image.

He felt her lips form a smile against his throat and he shuddered in response as her tongue darted out to tease the heated flesh.

"I've been watching you, Draco."

Just the way she said his name made him groan with pleasure. He closed his eyes at the feel of her hot breath on his throat and let out a guttural growl of approval as her hand snaked forward to grasp his cock through his pants. She rubbed the tip with her thumb and he lost all train of thought.

"Draco," she murmured sensually, "I know that you want me. But…did you know that I want you? I've been fantasizing about your for months. Playing with myself, thinking of how it would feel to have your hot, hard cock pushing in my cunt." She humped him from behind, rubbing her breasts against his back for extra emphasis. "I'm not the prude you always thought I was."

"I…I've noticed that," he gasped, throwing his head back in pleasure as her free hand snaked up his shirt to dig her nails into his chest. "So…what…what do you want me to do?"

Her nails dug harder into his chest, drawing a gasp of pain from him as he felt one particularly sharp nail break the skin. "Draco, I believe you forgot a very important word." She bit down on his throat, suckling on the skin hard enough to bruise. "It's Professor, Draco."

A violent shudder racked his body, so strong that it, briefly, broke through the spell's hold on his body.

"Oh Gods," he groaned, closing his eyes as pure ecstasy flowed through his body. "Professor Granger…"

She licked the side of his throat, teasing the flesh with the tip of her tongue as she laughed, low and sultry, a deep laugh that he never thought the prudish Granger would let out. Then again, she wasn't exactly a prude now, was she?

She slowly began to unbutton his top, moving her mouth to tease his earlobe with her tongue and teeth as she breathed against his flesh.

"Well, pet, you still haven't asked me nicely now, have you?" She scored his chest with her nails, leaving red marks in their wake.

"Fuck," he murmured, gnawing on his lower lip to try and quench his need to come at that very moment. "What do you want me to do, Professor?" His cock jerked violently as precum gushed from the tip.

"Well, Mister Malfoy," she moved so that she faced him, "I believe I want you to earn your grades."

Her eyes watched as he swallowed thickly, watching the muscles work in his jaw and throat. His pale cheeks were flushed, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he squeezed his eyes shut. Those lashes, the soft, silver lashes of his that she loved, tickled his cheekbones, and she felt her panties grow moist with pleasure.

"Look at me, Mister Malfoy," she murmured, trailing her nails down his jaw line, urging him to open his eyes and look at her.

When his silver gaze met her amber one, she watched as his eyes glazed over with unchained lust and arousal.

He looked her over, watched as she transformed before his very eyes from the prudish Hermione into the vixen that wanted her pet to do her bidding. Her breasts strained against her blouse, rising and falling rapidly with every gasping breath she took. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes dark pools of need, and he knew that she was just as aroused as him.

"How…how do I earn my grades, Professor?"

He watched her lips, her sweet, pink, full lips, as they formed a seductive smirk. She slowly backed away, seating herself on the edge of a desk. "Why, Mister Malfoy, I would like for you to make me scream."

He watched, frozen to the spot, as she lifted her legs, placing both feet on the edge of the desk, exposing her panty clad pussy to him. Then, he moaned loudly as she pulled the underwear aside, exposing the sweet, moisture coated petals.

He wasn't sure if he managed to shake off the spell or if she removed it, all he knew was that, in seconds, he found himself pressed against her body, kissing her with a fervor he had never felt before.

Their lips met in a bruising kiss, tongues battling for dominance as their teeth gnashed. One hand buried itself into her hair while the other trailed down her leg, reveling in the feel of the soft, satiny skin. Both of her hands found themselves burrowed into his soft locks, urging him to roughen the kiss, to bruise her lips and satisfy her with this one kiss.

"Play with my cunt," she whispered against his lips, "use your fingers and make me come."

He didn't need her to repeat; his fingers were already on their way to said destination and all he had to do was say, "Yes, Professor."

He returned to kissing her, groaning against her mouth as his fingers teased her satiny slit. She was so wet, so aroused, and it made him impossibly harder for her. He coated his fingers in her sweet nectar, trailing them up to find the little bud nestled in her folds.

He watched her reaction, watched as her head fell back as he played with the little bud, watching as she shuddered in response as he pleasured her. He heard her moan, felt him pants become unbearably tight, and teased her until he felt her body shudder as she became swept up into her first orgasm.

He knew that she felt the pleasure racing through her body, felt her body tighten with need and anticipation just as the wave crashed over her and pulled her down. He knew the feeling of sheer, pure ecstasy that filled her, knew that she felt it and needed to feel it again and again.

Within moments, he had her addicted to his touch.

She dug her nails into the back of his neck, urging his mouth back to hers for another searing kiss. "My little pet, I believe I would like for you to shove your fingers deep in me now."

"Yes, Professor," he groaned, just barely managing to get it out before slamming his index and middle finger deep inside of her. He met no barrier and paused. "Professor…you…you aren't a virgin?"

He realized that the moment the question left his lips that he was in trouble. Her eyes flashed dangerously and she pushed him off of her. Standing up from her seat, she placed her hands on her hips and watched as fear filled his eyes.

"Mister Malfoy, since when are students allowed speaking without permission?" She reached for her wand.

He chewed on his lower lip, praying to the unseen force that ruled the world that she would not stop and leave him unsatisfied. "N…never, Professor."

"Exactly, Mister Malfoy, never, which means that you must be punished." She waved her wand, transfiguring a nearby chair into a…paddle? She held the paddle, twirling it around in her hand as she faced the boy before her. "Take off your pants, Mister Malfoy."

He arched a brow, wondering just what taking his pants off had to do with the…His eyes widened with shock and fear. No…no, no, no…she was not!

Hermione frowned as he paused, her eyes narrowing as she noticed his hesitation. "Mister Malfoy, your pants."

He wasn't sure if he was more surprised because she actually ordered it, or because his cock twitched eagerly in response. Damn traitorous penis, letting the woman know just how turned on he was at the idea of her smacking his ass with the leather paddle.

His pants fell around his ankles in a puddle and he watched as her eyes widened in surprise.

"Commando, Mister Malfoy?" Her frown became a delicious smirk.

"Yes, Professor, I don't care much for underwear."

Her eyes trailed over his legs, long, muscular legs made for strength and endurance. They were covered in a fine layer of blond hair, barely visible to the naked eye. Her eyes trailed upwards until they reached his throbbing member, noting with satisfaction that he was circumcised and that the size of the cock lived up to its mythical name.

He had to be at least nine inches long…nine delectable inches of soft steel.

Regaining her composure, she gestured to a nearby desk. "Face it and bend over."

He didn't have to be told twice. "Yes, Professor," he murmured as he put his back to her, bending over so his rear was exposed.

She took in a moment to revel in the sight of his buttocks, tight, firm, and just rounded enough so that she could have something to sink her nails into. He was, surprisingly enough, hairless, which was far more attractive than a hairy ass.

Moving forward, she lifted the paddle in the air and brought it down on a perfect, pale cheek. He groaned in response, squeezing his eyes shut as pleasure pain coursed through him.

She repeated the motion several times on each cheek, each swing, and each contact made with the paddle, bringing more and more pleasure to his body, so much so that he feared he might overdose from it. His cock wept for mercy, precum dripping out in a constant flow as it begged for release. His balls tightened, preparing him for the inevitable.

On the last swing, he cried out, digging his hands into the table as he fought back his release, trying to think of something, anything, that might repulse him and push back his orgasm.

The image of Snape in lingerie came to mind, followed by nausea and the fading of his orgasm.


His triumph was short lived, however, when he felt her hand trail between his legs, cupping his balls in her fingers.

"Are you ready to be a good boy and do what I tell you?" she murmured, leaning forward so her body pressed against his back. She gently squeezed his balls, earning a groan of pleasure from him.

"Yes…oh Gods…yes Professor."

"Good, now turn around and take off my clothes."

He swung around, intending to tear the offending garments off of her body, but she stopped him. "No, Mister Malfoy, not with your hands. Take them off with your teeth."

He growled in response, more with arousal than anything else, loving the idea that he could undress her with his mouth.

"Yes Professor."

It took some time and some maneuvering, but he managed to unbutton her blouse and tug it off her shoulders, his eyes darkening with need at the sight of her creamy breasts filling and overflowing in the lacy cups of her bra. Hoping to earn bonus marks, he kissed his way from her wrist, moving up her arm in wet, tender kisses to her shoulder, where he nipped her flesh with his teeth.

He watched as her head fell back, noting how her lower lip became victim to her teeth as she fought back a moan of pleasure. His kissed his way across her collarbone, teasing butterfly kisses that trailed down her sternum, pausing at her bellybutton. He completely avoided her breasts.

At the edge of her skirt, he nosed around until he found the zipper, unzipped it and let the garment pool at her feet. Then, with his face right against her aching core, he breathed gently on her soaked folds.

He watched as she shuddered, listened as she let out a quiet gasp, and grinned when her hands instinctively dug into his hair.

Moving his lips up her body, he was delighted to find that her bra had a front clasp, and worked his teeth on it until it gave way and her full breasts were free of its confinement.

Still ignoring her major erogenous zones, he tugged it off of her, taking a moment to suckle on her wrist before heading towards her knickers.

Taking the underwear in his mouth, he slowly tugged it down her legs, noticing the way she watched from under her lashes. Smirking up at her, when the garment was at her knees, he moved and placed his mouth right on the crotch, where the wet stain from her pussy gave way her arousal. He licked it like a cat licked its cream, watching as she shivered and her eyes became hooded with need.

Once it was off of her, he stood before her, still in his school shirt, and waited for her next order.

He found himself sprawled on his back, her body pinning his to the ground as her lips crushed his in a bruising, passionate kiss. Her hands trailed down his chest, nails digging into his flesh as she rubbed her wet pussy against his throbbing cock. He groaned in response, loving the feel of her petals brushing up and down his length, enjoying the feeling of moisture coating his cock as she moaned against his mouth.

"Fuck me, Malfoy, fuck me hard," she snarled against his mouth, capturing it for another ruthless kiss.

"Yes, Professor," he groaned, angling his hips in such a way that, with one thrust, he was sheathed by her body.

The feeling of her surrounding him, her wet muscles, so soft, so strong, clenching around his cock nearly made him come in the first two seconds. He heard her moan, heard her murmur his name as her lips found his throat.

He didn't, he couldn't, wait for her to adjust to his size. He needed to feel her coming around him, to hear her screaming his name as he performed this final exam. He surged his hips upwards, slamming himself deep inside of her, making her cry in response.

His nails bit into her hips, urging her to move with him, to bury himself deeper in her body, to feel her around him all the way to the hilt.

Her nails raked across his chest, his arms, his back, and anything else she could grab hold of. Blood seeped from some of the cuts but he was absolutely oblivious to any pain. Anywhere she touched only added fuel to the flame, increasing his pleasure tenfold until he found himself fighting back another orgasm.

"Oh Gods, Draco…yes, Draco!" she cried as he pushed her over the edge, making her scream his name as a violent orgasm swept through her body.

The sound of his name on her lips, the feel of her pussy clenching rhythmically around him, pushed him to the very edge. In seconds, he was crushing her to the ground, burying himself in her, harder and faster, stroking deeper and rougher as she writhed and screamed beneath his body.

He pushed her legs over her shoulders, going in deeper, feeling her muscles massage him as she came again, stronger and harder than the last one. He turned his head, biting her ankle as she squealed with pleasure, her hands clenched tightly into fists; he was too far for her to reach.

"Fuck, Hermione, oh yes, Hermione!" he shouted, feeling her body come yet again around, the wet muscles clenching and unclenching finally pushing him over the edge.

He spilled his seed in her, coming with such strength and power that it momentarily blinded him and made his body shake violently. Pleasure filled it, vibrating through his body as he surged his hips harder, trying to make it last as long as possible before he had to brought back down to earth.

In the end, he didn't know how they wound up with her on him, lying half under a pair of desks. All he knew was that he had been sated in a way that he had never been. The feel of her body, slick with sweat, pliant with satisfaction, pressed against his was the most delightful feeling he had every experienced in his life.

"Draco…?" Her murmured words broke the silence and he barely managed to lift his head and arch a brow in response. "I believe that…I feel that I must…give you an O on this exam."

He couldn't help it; he threw back his head and laughed and it was the first time she ever heard him laugh in such a way. It was deep bellied laugh, one that came from the heart and soul and was filled with pure, absolute joy.

She smiled softly to herself and began to wonder…

"Miss Granger, how did the tutoring session go?"

Hermione, Draco noted, did not look the least embarrassed by the reminder of their activities the previous night. In fact, she seemed to glow with joy.

"Unfortunately, Professor," she said with a smile, "it is far worse than I originally believed. I believe that Mister Malfoy will need a lot more tutoring; he needs as much practice as he can get if he wants to pass his N.E.W.T.s"

The elderly woman arched a brow, glancing briefly to the subject of conversation before returning to Hermione. "Oh, really? Well, I suppose that, if you feel the need that he must be tutored more from now on, then it cannot be helped. I want a progress report every week and, if this boy needs as much practice as he can, then I suggest you two meet several times a week to get that practice time in."

"Yes, Professor," the pair replied in unison.

"If that is all, then you are dismissed."

Hermione lead the way out of the office, turned a corner, before spinning around and pressing Draco against the wall.

"Well, Draco, you heard McGonagall," she murmured against his mouth, "we should get practicing."

"Yes," he replied, threading his fingers through her hair, "we really should." He pulled her in for a searing kiss.

Phew. Boy…I think that that was pretty hot, don't you?

Anyways, just to note: NO! THIS IS NOT PART OF MY DRACO/HERMIONE SEXCAPADES TRILOGY (as you should have obviously noticed from the beginning). This is just an idea I came up with a while back. Not really creative, since there are a few out there sort of like this (I believe, unfortunately I have not read them all yet).

Anyways, please review if you have read this. Hits do not equal reviews, I repeat: hits do not equal reviews. Also, if you add this to your favourites, please, it would be nice to know why. I love seeing people add stories to their favourites, but sometimes I'd like to know WHY they think it belongs in their favourites.

Oh, yes, in response to someone (I can't remember your name, I'm sorry) who, on another fic, replied that they go back and read the story over and over again, even though their review once, therefore, hits may equal reviews and more, I must note: a hit is classified as a hit if someone just goes to the page. Anybody can click on the link, read the first line, and then click "back." So, hits do not always equal reviews or the amount of satisfied readers.

So please, review.

Also, if you find errors, TELL ME! I love it when readers notify me of a mistake I've made.

Thank you guys and I hope that you have all enjoyed this!

Ja ne!