Draco's POV

I watched from my isolated table in the library as the youngest Weasley retrieved a book and returned to her own table. She had matured over the Summer; perhaps not as much as her peers but at the same time, a great deal more so. She was graceful, to some extent, as much as her upbringing allowed her to be, most likely. She had developed a rolling gait – her narrow hips swinging oddly in a way that made her look constantly off-balance. They didn't swing as much as others' her age, but it seemed attractive anyway as I had noticed other Hogwarts boys eyeing her in a way they wouldn't have last year.

I was alone – not unusual as I was one of the few seventh-years to return this year. She too, was alone. Perhaps more unusual as I never seemed to see a Gryffindor wandering the halls alone. Crap, she's noticed me looking her way. I quickly shake my head to make it seem as if I were daydreaming, and return to my work.

Minutes pass in silence – many students still outside, enjoying the last days of Summer. It's just me and her. Even Pince is absent, probably asleep in the Teacher's Lounge. I look up, and it takes a moment to register she's left her table. I glance around and notice the flip of deep red hair vanish into the Restricted Section. My legs appear to be acting of their own accord as I follow her seconds later.

Ginny's POV

Why is he looking at me? It's a thought that seems to occupy my mind often when I leave the Common Room, particularly as of late – it's ridiculous! I return my attention to my paper. An eight inch essay on the uses of wolfsbane essence with comparisons to dragonsbane. So far I've written the title.

Scratch scratch. And my name.

Scratch. And date.

Okay, I've made a great start, but I happen to know dragons- and wolfsbane books reside in the Restricted Section because of their danger to humans, but I have no note from Snape. I glance around – no Pince to be seen.

Quietly I make my way there and slide my fingers across the row of spines, leaving a dust-free trail in their wake. Here we are! As I pull out the most likely looking book – a crimson tomb – I realize I can hear the breathing of another not too far from where I stand. I glance to my left.

"Malfoy."

"Weasley."

"What do you want?"

"Tsk. So blunt. Whatever happened to playful banter?"

"Dunno, Malfoy. 'Scuse." I try to push past him in the narrow corridor.

"Not so fast, Weasley. Don't you want to have some fun?"

"Not particularly. I have an essay to write."

"Oh come now, I'm so much more fun than an essay."

"I have to finish it Malfoy. Move."

Smirking suspiciously, he does so, so I return to my seat, shooting a glare in his direction for good measure.

I had been working steadily – okay, maybe not steadily, but, you know, working – for a little while and leant back in my chair as I finished my first paragraph with a flourish. Malfoy had long since returned to his own chair ad every time I raised my eyes he had been looking at his own work. I turn my eyes his way once more and am temporarily startled to realize he's gone. Like, completely gone. No parchment, quill or bag. He just left – and so quietly too! I didn't even know. I'm alone in the library. With a sigh I return to my work – no distractions left for excuses.

"Merlin, Weasley. I didn't know you'd be so forlorn because of my absence."

I jump halfway out of the chair as Malfoy speaks from behind me. As I begin to stand to give Malfoy a piece of my mind, his hands – surprisingly warm – come to rest on my shoulders and keep me seated.

"Don't you have an essay to write?"

"Malfoy, what-"

"So don't you think you should write it?"

I dip my quill into the ink pot and lower quill to parchment. As I begin the second paragraph Malfoy's fingers lightly move my loose hair to the side, fingertips brushing my skin and sending an unexpected shiver through me. I continue to write but stop when I feel hot breath on my neck.

"Malfoy, I really don't think-"

"Snape won't be happy if you don't finish."

Inarguable point, and his whisper tickles my ear. I sigh, confused, and pick up where I left off. I had hardly finished scratching out the words 'includes the involvement' when lips – probably Malfoy's – touch my neck. As I begin to lower my quill in order to protest effectively, he nips my neck quite painfully and I hurriedly continue.

I have no idea what's going on. Malfoy's lips are currently ravaging my neck and to be perfectly frank, I'm struggling not to moan. It gets more difficult as his hands slide from my shoulders to my waist, and from there, to my thighs. They begin to creep beneath my skirt and this is too much. I stand abruptly while my shoulders are free. I turn and find myself looking at the broad chest of Malfoy, up close and personal.

"Now, really Malfoy, enough is enough. This has gone on far too long!"

He smirks.

"I know."

And now for some reason I'm on my back. On the table. My ink pot is turned over, ink all over the floor and table. The few words I did write probably smudged to buggery now. But those problems pale in comparison to the one currently on top of me. Malfoy seems to have abandoned all his inhibitions because – oh! Now my top's open, button's scattered all over the place. That was unnecessary.

"Malfoy! What the hell?"

He silences me with a look as his hands wander up my thigh, a thumb brushing over my simple white cotton knickers which were, I'm ashamed to say, somewhat damp. He smirks, obviously on the verge of laughing and lowers his head to my collarbone, nipping and licking in turn, his hands stroking my thighs. I can feel his erection prodding my leg. This time, I really do moan as his tongue finds a spot of my neck no other boy seemed able to find and his long fingers brush my knickers again.

Pulling my bra aside he lowers his mouth to one already-ashamedly-erect nipple and I don't have the strength or the will left in me to protest. It's just a little fun – where's the harm? I moan again as he bites down – not hard enough to be painful, mind – and arch my back, arms stretched above me and a grin on my face.

He smirks against my skin and moves down. Pushing my skirt up and the elastic of my knickers aside he flicks tongue over my entrance making me gasp. He looks at me evilly and licks again, warm tongue sliding across my clit. I gasp again and audibly whimper. His tongue dances inside me and I can feel an orgasm building. He slide a finger into me, quickly followed by a second. My hips are bucking and he has to hold them down with his free hand as he tortures me. He begins to nibble my clit and I can feel my body quivering, wracked with orgasm. Me head's thrown back in pleasure and I can hear myself moaning over and over. As I come down from my high, Malfoy flicks his tongue again and I jerk involuntarily with a moan. He crawls back up me and looks down at me. He rubs his fingers on my lips then slowly pushes them into my mouth. I can taste myself on them and it's strangely erotic.

He begins to climb off the table, apparently done, but I'm too horny for that now! I grab his collar and pull him down to meet me. Feeling his erection again, I wrap my legs around his waist and roll my hips against his. He moans and the sound just makes me want more.

"Gods, Weasley, we could be caught any moment – anyone could walk through that door!"

I whisper in his ear: "It's called the thrill factor," and flip us quickly.

Now I'm straddling him ad I can feel him throbbing against my thigh. I smirk and drag my fingers over him, making him moan once more. The sight of him with his hands over his eyes and head thrown back almost makes me come again but I restrain myself. Making quick work of his belt and zip I push them and his briefs a few inches down his thighs and release his erection. Bending down, I lick the pre-come of the head and push his hips down to stop him bucking.

He groans and pushes his eyes harder with his palms. He gasps when I take him as far as I can into my mouth. My tongue swirls around him, feeling each throbbing vein. As my fingers gently caress his ball sac I can feel him clenching, so I pull away, and straddle his hips again. Finally, he looks at me and with a blink flips us once more, my back hitting the table with a painful clap. He positions himself, pushing my knickers down a couple of inches. With a quick thrust he's inside me and I let out a loud whimper.

"Gods, so tight!"

He holds my hips down as I try entice him to move. He's obviously struggling to restrain himself. A single bead of sweat rolls down his exposed chest. When did his shirt come open? Did I do that? I don't dwell on it as he begins to move inside me, and gods, does it feel good!

Slowly at first, then faster and harder he's thrusting into me. I'm moaning almost constantly and he's not much better with his mouth open and eyes rolled back. Malfoy's large hands rise my hips to meet each of his thrusts and his slamming into me hurts but feels so fantastic! And – shit! His fingers begin flicking over my slit and my moans are getting gradually louder as I arch my back.

"Do you have any idea how dirty you look – being fucked while still dressed?" Malfoy hisses through clenched teeth.

With a blinding flash of red stars, his voice sends me over the edge and the tightening and quivering of my body brings him crashing over the edge with me as I feel warmth spread inside me and down my thighs.

His torso lands on my own as we both lay there gasping, sweating and panting, completely clothed but at the same time entirely exposed. He's still inside me, stretching me wonderfully.

"Shit, Weasley. It wasn't supposed to go this far." I smile, struggling to breath. "What's say we take this some where more private? Say, the Restricted Section?"

I nod eagerly against his shoulder and gasp as he pulls out of me, leaving a cold exposed feeling.

***

Severus Snape wandered into the library in search of someone to torment, instantly noticing only one table appeared to have possessions on it. He sighed: such slim pickings. He strolled over to the table and looked at the parchment, instantly taking in the ink on the table and floor as well as the small white buttons scattered on the table. Glancing at the parchment, he was pleased to see Ginevra Weasley was forced to stay inside because of his essay. He noticed the (small) second paragraph was smudged beyond reading and realized the girl should have returned from whatever shelf she was at. Glancing around, he noticed a dragonhide satchel leaning against one of the bookcases that could only belong to one student. With disgusted realization, Snape stalked from the library.