Disclaimer: Indubitably I don't own Harry Potter.

Never Ignore an Impatient Dragon

~*~*~

They had had the same conversation for quite a couple of times, and sometimes Draco wondered if she actually was enjoying it – torturing him.

"Let's go."

"Just a minute."

"You said that a minute ago."

"Just another minute."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Let's go."

"Okay, just anoth—"

Some other time, Draco decided there had to be some impulses acting on.

Hormones on the loose may play a part too.

Hermione frowned when Draco pulled away the entire collection of tomes that she had gathered from the bookshelves, firmly from her hands, and while staring at her with what-seemed-to-be a seductive face, he released each one of the books with intentional deliberateness. They all fell to the library floor in rhythmic thuds, and without delaying he shoved her until her back was pressed against the shelf.

"Never ignore an impatient Dragon." Draco informed dramatically, whispering it effectively alluring to Hermione's right ear.

Gulping quietly at the rousing sensation that seared inside her, her wrists clasped in his hands, Hermione maintained her reasons and sent him a reprimanding look.

"Someone might see us," she reminded.

"Let everyone see…" Draco mouthed, smirking – he leaned down and captured her mouth with his, closing the remaining gap between them when he pressed himself full against her.

Hermione wanted to scream.

Her reasons dispersed in every possible different direction and her mind felt like exploding – and really, thank god it was only metaphorically or it would have been an arduous task of gathering her scattering brains – every time he kissed her.

Simply too obliged to demonstrate her his expertise, Draco loosened his grip around Hermione's wrists, released them completely and resorted to cupping the back of her head, entangling his slender fingers around her curly hair. She closed her eyes and moaned when his tongue flickered across her lips. He firmed his hold on her scalp and she was lost.

Her right hand fisted, clutching at a bunch of Draco's shirt while her other hand was pressed against his warm neck, Hermione barely stood on her own. Her mind shrank into comfortable oblivion and she suspected she had somehow been cursed with the jelly-leg spell; she couldn't feel her knees when he began sucking in every cervix of her mouth, tasting his sugarcoated saliva. Hermione was always surprised at how she would think he was supposed to be cold to the touch, every time, and found herself to be pleasantly wrong. Draco was warm in every gratifying sense, alive, and when he pulled her close and closer as if he was never quite satisfied enough, passionately wrapping his hand around her waist, she would simply fall.

Over and over again.

A sudden, abrupt, unwelcome clicking sound accompanied by a flash of blinding light, and finally followed by a loud, choking gasp froze their show of affection on the spot.

Slowly, unwillingly, Draco parted and looked around, followed by Hermione's head.

Three pair of eyes widened in ultra-shock.

Collin Creevey was standing right in the aisle between the two bookshelves they were pressing themselves together.

"I didn't—" his camera hanging limply around his neck, his fingers trembling and his face blanching, Collin gulped, and it seemed as if he was swallowing a hard lump of rock. "—I didn't see any thing!"

Before neither of them could blink the petite Gryffindor had swirled around and fled from the library, crashing and stumbling into two chairs and a table respectively in his rush out.

"Oh my God." Hermione breathed. She inhaled sharply and turned to Draco with an affright look, her brown eyes shimmering.

The Slytherin released the possessive hold he had around Hermione's waist to scratch at his blond head.

"I'll settle that." he assured, and leaned back down to resume what had been interrupted.

Hermione looked at him skeptically, and opened her mouth to lay out the numerous logical possibilities that would come out as the result of the taken picture, before Draco silenced her with his skillful comforts, to which she fell into willingly, instantaneously, having the pieces of her brain scattering all over.

Somehow, the next day Peeves was sentenced for a crime of demolishing a certain Collin Creevey's camera and for the first time in the history of Hogwarts, the poltergeist demanded himself to be justified, in reason that he did not, commit such a crime.

But everyone knew who Peeves was by reputation, and no other person alive would have had a motive to suddenly settle Collin Creevey's camera. Right?

"Poor fellow," Draco Malfoy was quoted to have expressed his sympathy.

~*~*~

Author's Note: The title was actually from 'Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon', and this was just a little fluff I randomly poked at while working on my English assignment (shame on me).

I hope you enjoyed though, and feedbacks are welcomed. :)