The usual disclaimer…no I don't own any of the characters, but if I did own one certain Slytherin, o, ho ho, the fun we would have.
I smell sex and candy here
Who's that lounging in my chair
Who's that casting devious stares
In my direction
Mama this surely is a dream
-Marcy Playground
Seventh year Head Girl Hermione pushed back a stray lock of hair impatiently. She had been in the library for so long even she, the queen of the stacks, was anxious to finish her Arithmancy report and get back to the comforts of her room. The last few weeks had been taxing; her work load had considerably increased.
She looked around the library, almost wishing for a distraction. She found that she was nearly alone, save a frustrated looking group of Hufflepuffs and, to her slight dismay, Malfoy. She noticed though, with some satisfaction, that he, too, looked strained. She considered how this year she had been seeing more of Malfoy than she would have liked. They were Head Boy and Girl, and therefore forced to spend much time together on duty, in addition to their similar course loads. Hermione observed that he was also slaving away on his arithmancy report, his usual smug expression absent. A wisp of silvery blond hair swept across his forehead and he flicked his head impassively to clear it. As he did this he looked up and caught her staring. He shot her a characteristic smirk and stared back at her. Slightly embarrassed, Hermione looked back down at her near finished report.
Why did she always find herself staring at him? He was the bane of her existence at Hogwarts, and had been since her first year. And yet…She mentally shook her head in disapproval. She firmly told herself that it didn't matter how hot he had gotten over the summer. Looks aren't everything. Especially in this case: Malfoy was a total git. But again her hormones drove her thoughts in other directions. She looked up again and was relieved to see that he had redirected his attention back to his report. In the few brief seconds that she allowed herself, she took in not only his sleek hair, but also his chiseled jaw line, and broad shoulders—broad shoulders that she was sure led to strong arms. Again, he seemed to sense her staring and looked up, catching her once more.
This time Hermione was mortified. She had been caught red-handed checking him out. Again she looked down, but to her horror she heard the sounds of Malfoy packing away his parchment and walking over to her. She didn't look up even when he came and stood directly behind her chair and stooped down so close she could feel his breath on the neckline of her robes.
"Enjoying the view mudblood?" he whispered.
Hermione spun around and looked up at him with genuine distain.
"You wish," was all she could come up with.
"If you want a better look sometime I'd be glad to give it to you. I mean, Father as always approved, even encouraged, charity work, and I'd wager that it's been a long time since you've seen," he paused dramatically, "a man." With one last smirk he turned on his heels and strode out of the library.
Hermione couldn't believe it. The nerve of him. It was true that she hadn't been with a man since she and Viktor had decided to cool it a year ago, but that was no reason for him to think that she needed his help in any matter. Oh, how she detested that slimy pest. Only he had the ability to get to her the way he did. No one ever spoke to her with such disrespect. No one dared to bring up, save challenge, her sex life.
How then, had their little dialogue managed turned her on?
