Sometimes sex is just sex.

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Generally, it is said that women cannot completely detach themselves emotionally during sex. They always want it to be followed by cuddling, an affirmation of adoration. They always want to lay their head on the man's chest and have him kiss their hair. Men, of course, are able to detach the carnal from the emotional. They can have sex for pleasure as many times as they damn well please. It is women who are the sappy, the weak, the vulnerable.

Hermione Granger did not agree with this. She did not agree with this one little bit. As Draco Malfoy flattened her against the wall of the heads' common room, she knew that their tryst was purely physical. This was the third time that she found herself in this position. This time, she had entered the common room, realizing she left a book on the hearth that she wanted to finish before she fell asleep. Unaware of the fact that he was still sitting in the common room, she had not thrown a dressing gown on over her pyjamas. These pyjamas consisted of shorts and a string top. She did not even notice that he was there when she bent down to retrieve the book. She did know that he was in the room when she stood and found two hands deftly grasping her hips from behind and the starts of an erection pressing into her lower back.

"It's a mistake to be wearing that, Granger," he growled into her ear, pressing her back flush against his front. Hermione knew where it would go from there. He attached his lips to her neck and…Hermione didn't quite recall how she ended up backed against the wall. Infuriatingly, he had that effect on her. His kisses tended to be hot and cloud her mind so that the only thing she could focus on was the spot his lips next landed. It was never upon her own lips, though. It was an unspoken agreement that they never kissed. That made it personal. Kisses meant care. No, neither of them cared for the other. In fact, the old Malfoy versus Potter and Co. rivalry remained. Hermione just proved to be an outlet for his lust. This was fine with her, although it sometimes amazed her just how fine she was.

The first time this occurred, it caught Hermione completely off guard. She had been undressing in her bedroom to get into the shower, and he had chosen that exact moment to burst into her room to settle a qualm he had with the way she was handling her Head Girl duties. Thus, he caught her completely starkers. He had stormed through the door with yells already on his lips, but when he saw Hermione's shocked face and naked form standing there, he was rendered speechless. Next thing Hermione knew, Malfoy was licking the outer shell of her ear and pressing his knee between her legs, his hands forcefully on her breasts. She found that she did not mind. In fact, she rather liked it. She enjoyed the feeling of his body pressing hers to her bed. She even found herself loosening the knot on his tie and unbuttoning his school shirt with sure fingers.

With Malfoy, it was better to pretend that you knew what you were doing, even if you didn't. The first time this had happened, Hermione had not known what the hell she was doing. She had merely followed the hormonal adrenaline rushing through her naked body. He hadn't said anything to her to debunk her faux confidence. In fact, he had not said anything to her at all. He did not acknowledge the fact that she was a virgin, or that he was shagging a Mudblood. No types of foreplay had occurred, either. It had been very straightforward sex. And afterwards, he had gathered his clothes, smirked, raised his eyebrows at her, and left, leaving Hermione, utterly spent, sprawled across her bed. Logically, regret and disgust should have been the first two emotions that then popped into her head. However, she was sated and content instead. It had not been spoken of after that. He had not made any extra insults or sexual remarks to her.

Sex had never been an enormous deal to her. She was not saving herself for marriage or anything like that. She had not wanted to lose her virginity to a stranger, but she knew Malfoy, so it was all right. True, she had nothing but abhorrence for him, but he was quite good at pleasing her. And what with all the work and responsibilities she had as one of Hogwarts' top students and Head girl, stress built up quite frequently. In the past, she had enlisted the help of bubble baths and books to relieve the tension, but she found that nothing relieved it better than intense, spontaneous, unexpected sex with Draco Malfoy. Even in her mind, these thoughts made her sound like an absolute slag. Still, she could not deny facts. And if there was one thing Hermione Granger knew, it was facts.

Fact: Malfoy was extremely talented in knowing what she wanted. Fact: she was both surprised and aroused when he decided to use her body to fulfill his lust. Fact: she took great pride in the fact that she had such an effect on him. Fact: if Harry and Ron were to ever find out about this, she would be taken to St. Mungo's for a psychiatric evaluation.

This last fact was proving to be a problem, as the portrait to their common room swung open and both Harry and Ron stepped into the room, just as Hermione wrapped her legs around Malfoy's waist and he pressed her harder up against the wall, essentially dry humping her. When Hermione saw them, her eyes went wide and she immediately dropped her legs. Harry and Ron were just standing there, completely frozen. Ron's face was gradually becoming redder. Hermione tried to push Malfoy off of her, but he was not getting the message until her body stiffened completely. Then, he let go of her and she managed to sputter out, "H-Harry…Ron …h-hi." She felt the blood drain from her face and she was suddenly aware of how her hardened nipples were poking obviously through her string top, and she crossed her arms across her chest. This was not going to go well.

Malfoy turned around, his signature smirk spread across his face. "What timing you have Weasley," he drawled. "Walking in just as I'm about to shag your precious girlfriend."

Ron lunged at Malfoy, and Harry made no effort to hold him back. Hermione had to step between the two of them before things became worse than they already were. "Ron, stop," she said forcefully. Ron stopped, his face redder and angrier than Hermione had ever seen it.

"What the hell are you doing with him," he growled.

"It's not what you think, Ron," Hermione said desperately. "It's just…"

"It's just sex, Weasley," Malfoy cut in. "We're not getting married, so don't you worry about that." Hermione hated how much pleasure Malfoy was getting out of this.

Harry was still just standing there, stony-faced. "I suggest you leave, Malfoy," he said evenly, his voice dripping with malice.

To Hermione's surprise, he listened to Harry. Winking lewdly at Hermione as he made his retreat, he said, "I expect to finish this later, Granger." And, chuckling in a way that angered Hermione, he returned to his bedroom. That left Hermione to face her best friends.

"It's nothing," she said quickly in her defense.

"I would not call what I just saw nothing, Hermione," Ron countered angrily. His fists were clenched. "Was Malfoy serious when he said you're having…you're…" Suddenly, he looked nervous instead of angry.

"We have sexual encounters from time to time," Hermione replied. Ron blanched.

"What in the hell possessed you to sleep with Malfoy?" Harry hissed at her.

Ron looked like he was going to throw up. Hermione knew that he wanted to be the first one to sleep with her, and he probably felt as if he had been robbed of the privilege. That thought suddenly made her angry. Why did she have to explain her sex life to them? "He is a very good way to relieve my stress," she replied honestly, her voice no longer quiet and nervous. She was getting increasingly angry that they were so mad at her. She was allowed to sleep with whomever she pleased. "It happens occasionally, and that is all it is. Sometimes, sex is just sex. There is no emotion involved and there is nothing else to it but physical desire."

Ron's mouth was opening and closing as if he had something to say but couldn't quite think of how to word it.

"You two don't control me," she reminded them. "I can handle myself, thank you very much."

"He's using you," Ron spluttered.

"Obviously he's using me," Hermione said, fighting the urge to be sarcastic. "I'm using him as well."

"Sex can't just be sex, Hermione," Harry said. "You're going to get hurt."

"Believe me Harry, it's merely sex. I think it would be easiest if you two just tried to accept this and we never speak of it again."

"I don't want you sleeping with him, Hermione," Ron pleaded.

"Well, Ron, I'm going to do whatever I please." She was trying to keep her voice very neutral and diplomatic.

Ron gaped like a fish once again. "C'mon, Ron, let's go," Harry said. Hermione was not sure what emotion was in his voice. She thought it sounded like something between anger and disappointment. Harry took Ron by the arm and led him from the room, back into the corridor.

Hermione sighed and ran her hand through her hair before knocking on Malfoy's bedroom door. "Would you like to finish what we started?" she called through the wood. Harry and Ron would eventually have to accept the fact that she was a sexual being and therefore had needs that needed to be met. Right now, she did not have time to worry about her friends: Malfoy had gotten her all worked up, and she had been interrupted before he could carry through with his promise of pleasure.

From Hermione's personal experience, sometimes sex is just sex, and she was perfectly fine with that.

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This fanfiction did NOT turn out at all how I thought it would originally. Sometimes, fictions develop a mind of their own…and this is what it ended up to be. Opinions?