A/N: As much as I love them, I didn't create Draco and Hermione, I just make them fall in love ;)

Would You Kill Me?

She was looking him directly in the eye and that didn't happen often. Most people feared him, or his name at least, and they didn't look at him when they spoke. She, of all people, should have been terrified. Perhaps there was something to Gryffindor bravery after all.

They were alone too; something else that didn't happen often. School was nearly out for the holiday but both of them would remain at Hogwarts anyway.

It seemed like an eternity before she finally spoke. "We're alone."

He rolled his silver eyes. "What's your point?"

She leaned closer to him and lowered her voice before she asked; "If there were no witnesses and no repercussions, given the opportunity, would you kill me?"

His heart almost stopped. Surely she hadn't really asked such a question. He couldn't answer.

"It's a simple question, Malfoy" she prompted nonchalantly, but her eyes betrayed her.

He laughed tensely. "That is far from a simple question."

"Yes or no would suffice."

"Would you?" he countered.

"Kill myself?" she joked with a straight face. "No."

He rolled his eyes again. "Would you kill me?"

She smiled a queer smile. "Only if you were trying to kill me."

"In that case, no, I wouldn't kill you."

She scoffed. "I always knew you were noble," she said sarcastically.

A wicked thought suddenly entered his mind. Death didn't scare her; that was part of the trio's manifesto, but he would bet money that there was one thing that Hermione Granger did fear. So he asked a question of his own. "If there were no witnesses and no repercussions, given the opportunity, would you shag me?"

Her face fell and her nostrils flared in anger. "That's not funny," she whispered harshly and stood up.

After that, Draco acted on impulse and nothing else. He stood and followed her as she walked to the door, taking hold of her arm as she reached to open it. He spun her around and trapped her against the wall, pressing the entire length of his body into her. "Who's joking?"

She couldn't breathe; one because he was so close to her and two because he was literally so close to her. His hands ran down the length of her arms and took hold of her wrists before she could push him away. He was too strong for her anyway. His knee forced its way between her legs and his head dipped to her neck, kissing the throbbing artery that told him just how nervous she was.

"You ask about death with a straight face," he whispered next to her ear. "But run when I mention sex."

She whimpered and shivered. "Some things are more frightening than others."

He let go of her wrists, his hands resting on her hips. "You're not fighting me."

She looked up then. Her cheeks were flushed and her brown eyes were dropping slightly. She wanted this. "Should I?" she choked.

"No," He crushed his lips to hers in the next instant and he felt himself grow with want as she freely kissed him back. Her lips were soft, he could tell even though he moved over them with a fierceness that spoke of his growing need. He felt her hands on the sides of his face, pulling him into her as their tongues wrestled in the shared space.

.-.-.-.-.

The moment she heard the sound of his zipper, she put her hands flat on his chest and pushed. It wasn't enough to push him down or away, just enough to make him stop. "No," she breathed, shaking her head desperately. "Not like this, not with you."

He was ashamed to admit he was a little hurt. Not to mention the fact that he was hurting to have her. "Not with me? Or just not like this?"

She looked into his eyes then, her brown orbs full of confusion and conflict. "I don't know. Certainly not like this. It's too tawdry."

His eyes brows hit his hairline and he smirked at her. "Tawdry? But that's half the fun."

She shook her head and inhaled deeply. "Not really."

He couldn't help but notice that she wasn't righting her clothing. Her small, white knickers were still around her ankles and her jumper still revealed half of her flat, buttery soft stomach. It did nothing to cool him off. "What would make it less tawdry?"

She worried her bottom lip for a few seconds before she answered. "A bed?"

His smirk morphed into a grin as he turned and pointed his wand at the table they had recently vacated. He had paid attention in Transfiguration, after all. The hard, wooden table swiftly transformed into a queen-sized bed with green satin sheets.

.-.-.-.-.

"Oi!" she cried with wide eyes.

Draco immediately stilled, his own eyes suddenly scared and confused. "What? What's wrong?"

"That hurt! Merlin, does gentle mean anything to you?"

As uncharacteristic as it was, he felt suddenly guilty as he understood what her outrage meant. "You're a virgin?"

"Well I was!"

His jaw fell open. Though he shouldn't have been so shocked, she was Hermione Granger, after all. He just never for a second thought that said witch would give him her virginity. "I'm so sorry, Hermione, I didn't realize—"

Her lips cut him off in a searing kiss. There were two things he could say that could make her get over the small bit of pain and they had just come out of his mouth: I'm sorry and Hermione.

.-.-.-.-.

"Merlin, you really are good at everything, aren't you?" Draco whispered between deep breaths and smiled over at the woman who had just upset his very foundation.

But she was sitting up, dangling her feet over the side of the bed and sighing. She still wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing; he was surprised that she was so comfortable with every inch visible. "That's what they tell me," she replied—bitterly.

The view from where he was laying was too beautiful. Even though he had heard the bitterness in her voice, he moved to kiss the back of her neck. "Hermione, what is it?"

"Don't call me that," she demanded harshly.

He began to kiss his way down her spine. "Why?"

"Because it makes this feel like something it isn't." Her breath noticeably quickened as his hand moved over her skin and between her thighs.

"And what isn't this?" he whispered against her skin.

Then she stood and moved away from his touch. "Healthy."

.-.-.-.-.-.

"Why do you keep coming back, Hermione?" he whispered from the bed they had been sharing once a day for the past week. "You always end up leaving like this."

"I told you not to call me that," she reminded him harshly as she fastened her bra. "I don't call you Draco."

"You just did," he pointed out, walking around her so he could see her face.

She rolled her eyes then looked at him. "For the love of all things magical, put some clothes on!"

"Why?" he breathed, taking hold of her upper arms so she couldn't run from him.

There was anger in her eyes; there normally was when he questioned her like this. "Because this has repercussions!" she cried, her eyes filling with tears.

"Hermione," he breathed, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Hermione—"

"Stop!" she yelled, tears pouring faster. "Please, stop! Don't you get it? You said you wouldn't kill me, but you are right now!"

He took her face in his hands. "And there are repercussions."

She sniffed and confusion filling her eyes. "What do you mean?"

He had never thought the words could come out of his mouth; he hadn't been sure if his tongue could form them at all. More than that, he had never thought that he would ever feel what he was feeling, especially not for her, especially not after a week and most especially not because of a silly challenge made when they were alone. But he did feel it and he wasn't used to being denied something he wanted. He wanted to tell her. "Hermione, I think I've fallen in love with you."

A/N: I wrote a full-length version of this, too, with all the lovely, smutty details. This is the edited, PG-13 version. The full version is available under the same title. and by the way, I love reviews!