Author: Jepa

Rating: R

Disclaimer: me own nuting..................

Summary: I have finally taken a firm grip on my collar and published this, it been waiting for 6 months. This is a Draco/ Hermione fic so if that doesn't tickle your fancy jump on your broomstick and fly away.


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Contrary to popular belief Hermione Granger did not consider the beginning, the end and everything in-between to consist of textbooks. She did have a social life.......... somewhere.

Things had been.....weird, between her, Harry and Ron for the last year.

After the Yule Ball in the fourth year Harry and Ron had been rather surprised to find that their best friend was, underneath her clothes., a girl. Although the transformation only lasted for one night, they had still been rubbed out of their normal perception of her. Not to mention the chock of seeing her at the arm of another boy. They had more or less considered themselves the only ones in her life. And that she would suddenly go to the ball with someone other than her friends had forced them to reconsider her.

The following year, fifth, had been a mess of awkward glances, stammering and confused feelings. They had all been a bit bewildered by the sudden attention the boys had shown her. She had gone through short periods of infatuations with either of them.

She remembered the old saying, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, and in their case it couldn't have been more truthful. They had grown up and out of their childish feelings and their friendship was now even stronger as they now truly knew what they where to each other. Friends, the best of friends. She was, if possible, even closer to Harry. They could talk about anything.

So there she was, platform 9 3/4, waiting for the Hogwarts express to take her back to school after the Christmas brake. Her eyes followed the people mingling on the platform, saying their good-byes, hugging. She smiled sadly. Not for her.

She was glad it wasn't the first time on the train for anyone. The first years had already gone twice. To school in autumn and then back home. She didn't think she could have handled any lost brats at the moment.

She watched younger siblings say goodbye to their older sisters and brothers in awe. Mothers trying hard not to cry. Girls and boys running around in their muggle clothes. The girls dressed up in as non-existent clothes as possible, in a last effort to catch the boys' attention before being forced into their school robes.

She chuckled to herself. She was still the tomboy she had always been, if possible even worse. Wearing baggy jeans and a white T-shirt, hair in a messy bun, old sneakers that were almost completely hidden by her to long pants. She was honest enough to admit to herself that it was a form of self-preservation. She didn't want the attention. It frightened her. She had seen what it could lead to.

She was jerked out of her thoughts as someone walked into her.

"Could you please watch where you are going?" she snapped at the offender as she turned around and found herself face to face with Draco Malfoy, or more accurately, nose to chest. She had to take a step back to be able to glare him in the face. They simply stood there, staring at each other.

She was first to regain her composure.

"Really Malfoy, watch where you are going. You might be pureblood, but I doubt even you want to be mistaken for a pure-blooded elephant."

He only glared at her.

"What's the matter? Your trunk getting in the way?"

He didn't reply and then just stomped of. She stood staring at his retreating back in surprise. What the hell was the matter with him, he hadn't even risen to her taunt.

She didn't get much time to ponder this as her attention was drawn to someone shouting her name at the top of their lungs.

Sure enough there came Ron thundering towards her. Great, she thought, two elephants in under a minute.

Harry followed Ron in a slower pace, and by the look on his face he wasn't to impressed with Ron either. Before she could think about it more she was engulfed in a bear hug by Ron with her feet of the ground. By the time he had released her he had already told her about half of the Quiddich games he had seen during the brake. Hermione couldn't blame herself for loosing interest in Ron only a minute later and she was happy to be distracted by Harry's much gentler arms around her.

"Hello, Hermione" he whispered against her cheek. She inhaled his scent and was reminded of how much she had missed him.

Draco Malfoy watched the three of them in disgust. Potter and the mullblood where standing close to each other watching Weasly, both with similar expressions of disbelief at something he had said.
Malfoy narrowed his eyes.
Potter and the bush head where actually standing awfully close to each other, and neither seemed bothered by it.

They reminded him of parents watching a misbehaving offspring.
Well, well, where Potter and the mullblood doing the dirty deed?

He didn't hate Potter or Weasel as much any more. He had grown up, seen a bit of what life was actually about.
The muddblood however, was another matter. Her he truly despised. The surprise was that it had nothing to do with her parentage, as could be expected, but everything to do with her attitude.
Every other girl in their year had grown up to be girls (well they where girls, duh, but now they where girls...) but not Granger. Her hair was still a mess and she was wearing the most unflattering bags he had ever seen. And it made him hate her more because it was the most alluring thing he had ever seen. It left everything to the imagination and it was a challenge.

Granger was the ultimate challenge and he couldn't tear his eyes from the faint outline of her breasts.

Later in his compartment he finally felt his muscles relax as he had managed to lure of Crabbe and Goyle to go search for food, not that that took much convincing. He had just leant his forehead against the cool window glass when he heard the door to the compartment open and was about to snap at whomever had the audacity to interrupt him to piss of when he was cut short by the fact that the intruder was none other than a very surprised Granger. She mumbled something and turned to leave.

Before he even had time to register it himself he had launched out of his seat and grabbed her. They remained silent, neither uttering a word as Granger stared at his hand grabbing her arm and him staring at her down turned head. Finally she lifted her eyes to look at him and he felt a rush of excitement run through him as she stared him with fear in her eyes. Her plain fear gave him more of a rush than anything else he had felt in a long, long time. Soon the anger in her eyes faded back only to be replaced with anger and the usual contempt that he was so familiar with. He grew angrier at this change and in hope of returning the fear he squeezed her arm harder. She barely cringed and he finally let his eyes travel down her body passing her slightly parted lips and in his minds eye he saw her breath passing her lips as the sound of her hurried breathing was the only sound penetrating his aroused mind. Again he let his gaze slide downwards and come to rest on her chest. He felt her stiffen in reaction to his gaze and his blood pumped in his ears in response.

"Malfoy" she breathlessly whispered. But he was incapable of answering as he was transfixed by the sight of her breasts heaving to the pace of her uneven breath. His response was to hastily pull her up against his chest where he enjoyed the feeling of her breasts pressed up against him.

Not letting himself be amazed at her lack of response he pulled his wand out of his pocket and behind her back placed both a locking and a silencing spell on the compartment door.

The fear had returned to her eyes and he felt his body respond. She tried to whisper his name but he silenced her by forcibly attacking her mouth with his own.

Very aware that what he vas doing was wrong and probably hurting her he could not stop himself as he forced her lips apart and invader her mouth. To keep her from fighting him he captured her hands between her back and his hand. This pushed her closer to him and he groaned at the increased contact. His free hand roamed her body and he moaned into her mouth at the prospect of finally touching the forbidden fruit. She gasped in surprised to his cold fingers on her stomach and tried to arch her back to get away as his hand finally found its prize in her breast. He cupped and squeezed, imagining himself buried in her heat. He felt himself harden at the thought of being surrounded by her, to bury himself in her, surrounded by her tightness and squeezed.

His next conscious thought was of lying on top of her on the floor, pushing her shirt up to get better access to her breasts. He tore at the clasp of her bra and when they where finally free of restraint he could hardly contain himself. Those fabulous breasts that that haunted him for so long.. His hot and ragged breath caressed her breasts and she tried to squirm away from him. As he took a nipple in his mouth the last rational part of his brain screamed at him to let go of her, to stop. But a more demanding part of his brain, an animal part that he didn't even recognise, was more and more aroused by her resistance and its urging drove away the voice of reason. But the animal part was not satisfied with simply her breasts, it wanted more, needed more. He needed to claim her. He was unable to think of anything else than the burning need to bury himself in her, to be surrounded by her.

And just as suddenly as he had found himself on the floor with her he now found himself sliding into her. The pure heat made him feel faint.

She had stopped fighting and her head was turned to one side, there was an empty look in her eyes.

She wasn't there.

He wanted to scream his anger in her face for ignoring her, turning him out.

He grabbed her jaw and forced her to look at him. Her eyes met his and some last sane part in his mind screamed at him that this was Granger, his schoolmate. But as the reason started fighting its way back to the surface climax neared and once again he lost all thought. As he shuddered his release he slumped against her and smacked his head against the floor next to her head.

A throbbing pain awoke him, and as he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead he felt a small wound. He had hit his head against the window frame. As he took stock of the situation he found his palms sweaty and that the front of his pants where wet.

Brilliant, he had managed to soil himself like the hormone driven teenager he tried very hard not to be.

He had dreamt of raping Granger.

The thought took a while to settle in.

Not that he hadn't dreamt of causing her equal amounts of physical and mental pain, but he had never before dreamt of he himself raping her.

As he performed a simple healing spell and then a cleaning spell on himself he had time to think of what the dream meant.

He wasn't ignorant enough to dismiss it as a simple dream. He had toyed with the subconscious of others enough to know the enormous power it had over people. And right now his subconscious was telling him that he was afraid of Granger for the desire she stirred in him. He had dreamed of raping her as a form of gaining the upper hand in an effort to get control over his own emotions concerning her.

He hated that she made him doubt himself and his own self-control.
He hated that she was the only student in school who truly didn't fear him. Neither physically nor mentally, nor for the trouble he could get her into, like he knew Potter and Weasly did. She was no where his equal in strength yet she would stand up to him with bravery that few possessed. And she was his equal in intelligence and would not be intimidated by him. It irritated him to no end that she was unofficially thought to be the most intelligent student in school. He knew that he was just as smart as she was but could not be bothered to study for subjects that did not interest him. Only in the classes that he had with her did he put an effort into studying.

Intelligence comes in different kinds. You might be a genius at mathematics or fluent in six languages, have the green thumbs for herbiology or a talent for tunes. But their intelligence was different in that it was cold and analytical. It gave them the ability to learn nearly anything without too much effort. There was little they could not command.

Only he happened to know she really couldn't sing.

Yeas, he hated her with a passion for being so perfect.

The rest of the journey to the school he spent reading a book Madam Price would have wanted to bury in the deepest, darkest corner of the restricted section.
But he could not shake the feeling of discomfort that the dream had left him with.

He was jarred out of his thoughts by the train arriving at the train station.

Back at Hogwarts again.

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So what do you think? Feedback is always wanted and will only spur my writing, which otherwise probably will be quite lax. :)