A/N:Hello and Happy Smut Day fellow shippers!

One of my goals for 2019 was to become better at writing smut. I don't know that I'm any better than when I started this fest, but I did have so much fun working with the other authors as we bumbled our way through these ridiculous prompts.

My Prompt #4: Join a hiking club.

Beta love: MsMerlin who wrote a fucking BOMB Harmony Smut entry for Harmony and Co and seriously... it almost made me jump ship. (Okay, not really... but I did join the group because her piece was THAT good. So run, read, review. She is an angel.)

Also to MrsRen who has graced me with helping me with the smut in this piece. If at anytime you read a passage and say DAMNNN that's hot... you can guarantee she did it lol so thankful she took the time to help me and 'flesh' this bad boy out. She wrote a gazillion smutty pieces for today, so make sure you run to her too... follow previous instructions of reading and reviewing as well.

And please read all the wonderful entries, I've read a few and HOLY SHIT. They are so amazing!

Anywho, that's wayyy to many words for a 5k one shot lol. Enjoy and Happy Valentine's!

"Ginny, please put that trash down," Hermione pleaded as she refilled her friends wine glass, while her fiery-haired friend erupted into a fit of giggles.

"No way," Ginny scoffed– eyes wide and dangerously full of mischief. "Witch Weekly's Valentine edition is too good."

"It's garbage," Hermione admonished with a weary shake of her head, sliding back into her seat next to her friend.

"Oh my! Look at him," Ginny turned the magazine, showcasing a stunning deep-toned, chiseled wizard, his manhood barely concealed by the bludger he was holding strategically in front of him.

"Ack! Ginny!" Hermione laughed, forcing her eyes closed as a deep blush crawled up her neck.

"Okay, now this is good! It's a list of 129 ways to catch a husband–" Ginny nestled deeper into her nook of the couch, plucking her wine from the table.

"I don't need a husband," Hermione glared at her friend. She was sick of people assuming she was single out of lack of options, it simply wasn't true. There had been several interesting, accomplished and attractive wizards that had entered her life – it's just that none of them were the one.

"Well then, consider it a list of ways to get Malfoy into your knickers then," Ginny snickered.

Hermione gaped, about to scold her friend but Ginny cut her off before she could begin.

"Number one: 'Adopt a dog and walk him.'" Ginny peered over the edge of her magazine with hopeful eyes over the top of the magazine.

Hermione shook her head with a disgusted twist of her mouth. "Obviously I'm a cat person," she reminded her friend.

"Number two: Have your car break down in strategic places?"

"You want me to check out a Ministry vehicle and have it break down?—just so Malfoy can rescue me?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"Oh, good point," Ginny agreed quickly. "Number three: Attend night school and take courses that men like? This one might work! You loved school."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Pass." Hermione took a long drink of her cheap Pinot Noir before she grabbed the blanket from the back of the sofa, draping it over her long legs.

"Oooh! Number four: Join a hiking club!"

"What?" Hermione choked out, incredulous laughter bubbling up past her lips. "What part of you thinks I would ever find any amusement in hiking?"

"You camped for seven months with Harry and Ron," Ginny shrugged.

"Right!" Hermione barked out a harsh laugh. "That was out of dire necessity and I can guarantee that both your brother and husband can attest to how much I loathed every moment of it."

"No, seriously! There's that hiking group at the Ministry! Harry's in it and they actually have an overnight expedition coming up for Valentine's Day. You should come! Harry signed us up and it'd be so much more fun with you there." Ginny was sitting up, clutching the magazine to her chest as she tried in vain to persuade her friend to tag along.

"Absolutely not," Hermione laughed. "Besides, it's supposed to a romantic overnight, you don't need me third-wheeling."

"Please–"

"No, Gin. You go have fun... get busy under the stars."

Ginny sat back with a hmph and downed the rest of her wine glass.

Hermione's current project was taking over her life one piece of parchment at a time and with a groan she thumbed through yet another grant proposal her assistant had botched. There was a quick rap of knuckles on her door and Hermione straightened her spine so that she could peer over the stacks.

"Granger?" The rich tones of Malfoy's silken voice reverberated off the walls of her small office. Almost instantly her heart began to flutter.

"Malfoy?" she squeaked and then cleared her throat with a loud cough. "What can I do for you?" She stumbled to her feet behind her desk– patting down her pencil skirt and smoothing her wild curls.

"I was just going over our roster for this weekend, and imagine my surprise. I saw your name on it." His full lips pulling up into a lopsided smile.

Hermione's mouth went slack as he spoke– a stupid childhood flame that wouldn't die out, no matter how long she deprived it of oxygen.

"Roster?" her brows knitted closely together as his words finally registered.

"Yeah, for the hike. I saw you'd joined last minute."

He relaxed his stance, leaning his shoulder against the door frame, his fingers kneading an invisible knot at the nape of his neck. She stared hungrily at the thick tendons of his neck that disappeared into the collar of his black oxford.

She gulped, her mouth going dry as she imagined running her tongue along his collarbone.

"Sorry? Hike?" she shook her head.

"Yeah, the hike you signed up for?"

Realisation slammed into her and she felt her eyelids flutter. Fucking Ginny.

"MALFOY!"

Someone from down the hall captured his attention and he gave them a nod, smirking as he left his place in her door frame. "Sorry, Granger. I've got to run but let me know if you have any questions. I'm here if you need me." A barely there wink accompanying his signature smirk. "Portkey leaves at seven!"

Hermione stood dumbfounded, wondering if she'd imagined the way his silver eyes roamed her figure before he made his exit.

"Wait– what? Portkey?" she rushed as he was already halfway out her door, he paused only to shout something indistinguishable about New Zealand before he was gone and she could hear his laughter down the hall.

Hermione braced her hands on her desk and let her head bob forward. Ginny Fucking Potter.

Hermione shifted in her new, stiff hiking books as she stood at the trailhead. The Feather-light charm assisted in the weight of her hiking pack but it still sat bulky and uncomfortable on her back.

She was early—of course—but where was Ginny? Where was everyone?

From behind the large oak, Malfoy emerged and Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. There were a few other people trailing behind him but her gaze was zeroed in on his athletic march.

"Granger," he nodded in her direction. "You beat us here."

He was close enough now that she could smell his cologne rolling off him and her mouth watered.

Just a crush. Just a crush. Just a crush.

"Aren't Ginny and Harry with you?" her brows pulled together as she peered over his shoulder. It appeared there were only two other couples she didn't recognize.

"They had to back out."

"What?" she paled, eyes going wide.

"I guess Ginny twisted her ankle?" Draco shrugged with a confuse pout.

Fucking Ginny…

"I'm sure whatever horrible malady has befallen her was beyond a healing charm," she grumbled mainly to herself.

"So," Draco clapped his hands together with a grin, "Since the other members brought their partners– that makes us hiking buddies."

Hermione plastered a forced smile on her face, "Of course, it does."

It was about an hour into the hike and Hermione trailed lazily behind her partner, taking in the unique and breathtaking scenery of the New Zealand hiking trail, alongside Malfoy's sculpted arse. It was an eight-kilometer hike to the waterfall and they would be staying there overnight, the portkey wasn't set to whisk them back to London until early morning.

"So no plans for Valentine's Day?" Malfoy called from a few paces ahead, slowing his gait to match hers.

Hermione startled at the sudden attention, tripping over her boots. She stumbled to regain her balance on the uneven hiking trail but the tip of her boot snagged a wayward rock and she hit the ground with an oof, her cheek slamming into the dirt.

"Shit!" Malfoy laughed and closing the distance between them in two short steps. He pulled her up by her pack too forcefully and she nearly stumbled again, her ankle weak from the fall. "Are you alright?"

"Brilliant," she growled. "I love nature. Love physical exertion." Her voice dripping with quiet rage and sarcasm.

"Oh, come on, Granger," he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he stepped closer to her, "Some physical exertion does the body good." His eyes floated down her frame and her eyes went wide.

Everyone knew that Draco Malfoy was an innocent flirt. There wasn't a meal that passed at the Potter's where he wasn't making Ginny blush just to get a reaction from Harry. His quick winks and passing smirks made every witch at the Ministry blush – from Wendy, the twenty-two year old clerk, to Harriet, the seventy-five year old stenographer in the Wizengamot.

But no matter how many times Hermione fell into his path– Malfoy kept a cautious distance from her, never choosing her to settle his affections on. There were still moments that made her heart flutter – a look here, a wink there – but more often than not, he would avert his gaze and attention elsewhere immediately after.

"Is your ankle okay?"

Hermione stepped her weight down onto it and winced. "Shite."

Draco discarded pack and proceeded to push hers from her shoulders. Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her effortlessly and if Hermione hadn't been so distracted by the feeling of his body pressed against hers and his skin touching her thighs, she might have been mortified. He set her down on a nearby log and kneeled at her feet.

Heat crawled up her neck, staining her cheeks. "I think I may have twisted my ankle," she winced, trying to rotate it.

"I'm gonna take a look."

Hermione watched, awestruck, as his long fingers pulled at the laces of her now muddy hiking boot and slipped it from her foot. His fingers touched the tender skin at her calf and her breath became shallow – her chest heaving as his shifted so her foot was resting in his lap and his body was just between her legs.

He moved her foot back and forth, rotating it at the ankle and when she replied with a whimper, he peered up at her through his long flaxen lashes. "Deep breaths, Granger."

His hand slid up her calf and rested lightly at the bend of her knee. Her eyes fluttered shut, her mind running away with thoughts of his fingers continuing their scorching path up her thigh and gripping fistfuls of her flesh.

"Is this good?"

"So good," she replied with a husky rasp, imagining the feeling of his firm body pressed into hers.

"Huh?"

Hermione's eyes flew open and met his, his wand out and pointed at her ankle and prepared to cast a healing charm.

"Oh! Yes, yes… of course," she shook her head.

She felt the warm glow of his magic followed by a dull snap.

"Feel okay?" He asked with a quizzical twitch of his brow. She nodded, her mouth dry as he rotated her ankle effortlessly in his hands. "You should be fine to continue," he murmured. "But if you need to rest, just let me know. Alright?"

"Alright," she swallowed.

He left her to put her shoe back on, her skin was still buzzing from his touch. This was the most action she'd had in years and she groaned in embarrassment as she recognized the tingling sensation between her thighs.

As the sun continued its arch over the forest, she stumbled and tripped her way behind the rest of the hikers.

"How's your first hike going?" His eyes fell lazily over her features as he spoke.

Hermione gulped at the polite question, her throat spasming causing her to erupt in a fit of coughs.

His silver eyes went wide, his hands flustering in an attempt to help.

"Merlin, Granger!" He exclaimed in amusement, "I didn't realize you were so clumsy."

"I am not clumsy!" she argued.

"Could have fooled me," he smirked and trudged forward, leaving her scowling at his pack.

Hermione was not clumsy. She was not. She was nervous. Draco Malfoy was invading all her personal space, talking with his hot breath on her skin, making her thighs do things she never consented to.

Hermione fell only two more times, which she found to be a great success. The other couples were so lost in love they barely noticed but Draco kept a quiet, amused eye on her.

They reached the campsite after several long hours and Hermione nearly fell to her knees at the sight. She'd never been more excited to sleep in a bloody tent before in her life.

In the distance a glittering waterfall bled into a blue-green pool of water, surrounded by a rocky wall except at the shore.

She made a sloppy effort at assembling her tent and plopped down in front of the fire, ignoring everyone as she rubbed the various aches, pains and bruises littered over her body.

As she stared into the flames she heard the a soft thud, and turned to find the canvas of her tent falling into a heap.

A quiet rage blossomed in her chest and she stood to her feet, growling obscenities and kicking rocks violently.

"Granger? Doin' alright?"

"Yes," she snapped. "Just ready for this day to be over. I can now officially say: I hate hiking. Not that I was ever unsure about that before – but now it's solidified."

"You don't like hiking?" Draco's brows fell low over his eyes, a crinkle forming in the middle.

Hermione's jaw went slack – twigs sticking out from her curls, a scrape on her knee and a dirt streaked on her arms and cheeks.

"Of course, I don't like hiking!" she shrieked. "What on earth would make you think I actually enjoy this?"

"Perhaps, that you signed up for it?"

She groaned, dragging her fingers down her exhausted, dirt-crusted face.

"No. Okay? NO, I don't like hiking. I didn't sign up for your bloody hike, either," Hermione stopped her pacing and turned to him furiously. "Ginny signed me up and then ditched going on the hike so I would spend time with you on this ridiculous holiday."

"...Why would she do that?" his face pinched in innocent confusion as he looked at her.

"BECAUSE!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her hands up maniacally. "Because she knows I've fancied for you– oh bollocks, I don't even know– for years. And she knew I was never going to make a move, never going to tell you 'Hey, Malfoy! Mind if I straddle your lap and snog you silly? Even though that's all I've wanted to say since I was fourteen, because apparently I have a 'bad boy' complex or an 'all wrong for me' complex or a 'desperately need to get fucking laid' complex– whatever it is," her hand sliced through the air and her breath steadied, her brain finally catching up with her mouth and exhaustion settling deep into her bones with the help of the medication, "Ginny-fucking-Potter decided that it was up to her to play Cupid and– and–" The steam of her rant had run out, and she was struggling to find additional things to yell at him for. She noticed for the first time Malfoy's puzzled glare, his lips parted slightly as he studied her.

"You fancy me?"

She gulped.

"I mean, it's not– it's just a left over school girl crush," she reasoned with herself. "And Ginny's just a meddler." Staring down at her new hiking boots already scuffed and stained with mud.

He didn't move– didn't speak.

"It's stupid," she gave a firm shake of her head and turned back towards her tent, humiliation haunting each step as she ignored his attempts to call her back.

Hermione again cast a charm to keep her weak tent erect, this time feeling slightly more stable but as she lay beneath it's sagging edges, she prayed it would hold until morning. She stayed in her tent the rest of the evening, napping to pass the time.

It was almost midnight when Hermione emerged, the sounds of her fellow campers finally faded into the night.

By the grace of the moonlight she trudged down the small trail off the campsite, her toiletry bag stuffed under her arm. She had sat in her sweat, dirt and twig–tangled hair for hours and finally, she was able to wash this horrible day off.

Standing at the edge of the giant pool of fresh-water she let out a sobering breath, tugging at the elastic band in her hair until her curls cascaded over her shoulders. Her boots went first, followed by her damp socks.

With one final glance around, confident she was hidden under the shade of night, her fingers worked at the button her denim shorts. Sliding them effortlessly down her tanned legs and stepping out of them.

After a moment, she remained only in her white tank-top and sensible matching knickers as she advanced barefoot towards the waters edge.

Filling her lungs with a deep breath she plunged under the water, the water sliding over her body as she gave a few forceful kicks, propelling her she emerged she sucked in a greedy breath and treaded back towards her toiletry kit until her feet could touch the sandy bottom.

The ambient noise of the waterfall under the starry sky was the perfect soundtrack to finish out her horrid day. Maybe she should take up hiking for real – although not with this troup – if it meant that she could see more nights like this.

The air shifted, feeling decidedly off– she was being watched. She wiped her hands frantically down her face to clear the beading water and turned in her spot, her coffee-colored eyes searching the dark for the offender.

"Granger," Malfoy's cool drawl, washed over her and she felt goosebumps spread deliciously across her skin despite the warm weather.

"Malfoy?" she squeaked, her eyes wide.

He emerged from the treeline, fully dressed and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Bloody hell, you scared me," she scolded him. He responded with a smirk, as his silver eyes raked over the tank-top clinging to her otherwise, bare breasts. Her arms came up to shield her and she slithered deeper into the pool. "Besides, what are you doing out here? Gawking?" she accused haughtily.

His grin broadened as she watched his fingers begin their short work of the buttons on his shirt. "Maybe," he shrugged.

"Malfoy," she eyed him with a lidded, suspicious gaze. "Quit taking the piss, what on earth are you doing?" She was safely covered now, the water brushing her collar bone as she felt a blush crawl up her chest.

"Same as you, I imagine," he said with a shrug. "Long day. Need a wash."

Hermione's jaw went slack as he pushed his trousers towards his ankles and tugged his tee off his shoulders. She tried very hard not to gape at the long, lean muscle that disappeared with a golden trail of hair into the waistband of his pants.

"Well," she huffed, with wide indignant eyes, "You'll have to wait! I'm almost finished."

Malfoy scrunched his face up in thought before shaking his head, quickly dismissing the idea that he ought to wait for her to finish and pushed forward, a confident smirk painted on his lips. When he was far enough in the cool water, he dove under the surface and Hermione yelped, frantically splashing water and trying to retreat towards the shore. Finally, he emerged and with a flick of his neck, smattered his hair across his forehead.

Hermione's heart was fluttering sporadically, matched only by a quivering deep in her belly as he closed the few meters between them with several long strides. She stared in horror, backing up to the rocky ledge as she watched him glide through the water, not stopping until his hands were resting on either side of her head. She shivered as his chest grazed hers, his mouth hovering inches from hers.

"Malfoy…" she warned.

His hand slid south, skating over her ribs, fingertips barely brushing the side of her breast.

"I don't know if this is a good idea," she breathed the treacherous words with her eyes trained on his parted lips. "Earlier, I was just– was just–" She tried to think in full sentences. Really. She did. But as the water lapped around them and his eyes finally darkened only for her, she couldn't formulate more than a 'Please. Fuck. Now."

"Do you want me to go, Granger?" his hands had stilled, his eyes searching hers.

She thought about it, however briefly, as her teeth cut into her lip, the water rippling around them from the rush of the waterfall.

With a groan she pressed her lips to his, sliding her fingers into his hair, clinging to him. In one swift motion he palmed at her backside, lifting her up so that she could wrap her legs around his waist. Hermione's lips parted in a strained gasp, her eagerness nearly on the tip of her tongue as his erection pressed against her aching heat between her thighs.

Malfoy's hands were everywhere - running up the back of her thighs before his palms slid along the soft flesh of her arse, skimming her sides and teasing her with barely there touches against the sides of her breasts. She wanted– needed– to touch every drenched inch of his skin. Fevered, she reached for him, running her fingers along his forearms, tracing the veins and taut muscles.

Her head tilted lazily back, his lips trailing along her jaw, nipping at the thin skin at the hollow of her throat. Hermione glanced down at him, taking in the sight of him, while droplets of water slipped from his hair and rolled down his chest. One hand left her backside and slipped up her spine, cradling her neck, the other sliding over her breast, plucking at her pebbled nipple and her whimper were born into the night.

The heated noise electrified something between them and covered her thinly veiled breasts with wet, open mouthed kisses, drawing her nipple between his teeth through the thin fabric of her shirt.

Hermione couldn't help the soft breathy noises passing her lips as his hand dipped between them and with a firm rip, tore into the side of her knickers, leaving them shredded. There was no time wasted in finding her clit, rubbing over and over again until she was shuddering under his relentless caress.

"More," she demanded, her voice ragged and she felt him smirk against her neck, quickly slipping a finger between her folds, a second one joining just moments later. He pumped his digits into her, while his mouth continued an endless worship of her breasts.

He released his hold on her slightly, just enough so they were again tearing into each others mouths. Draco's breath hot against her ear, as his lips moved down her neck enough to make her cling to him. He rasped her name before sucking the soft skin of her throat, leaving a mark before kissing her roughly.

His hand left her centre briefly, pulling himself free from his briefs and poised himself at her entrance. He pulled away from her mouth, even as she leaned forward with a sweet whine on her lips that was his name, chasing him with her kiss. As much as he wanted to taste her kiss again, he wanted to watch her more. As he slid into her, his pupils dilated as he watched the way her eyes fluttered shut and her pale lips parted.

She bit down into her lip to keep from crying out, his free hand tearing at the thin cotton still covering her chest until the straps were hanging loosely off her shoulders and her breasts skimmed the surface as he thrust into her.

Their noises – a garbled twist of moans and pants – were washed out by the ambient sound of the waterfall as they lost themselves. The water swaying around them, rippling with each thrust. Each movement was hungry as he drove into her, eliciting the most tempting little pants from her.

Her walls clenched around him – she could feel a familiar quickening in her sex and he grunted into her shoulder, his fingers digging into her wet flesh. "You've no idea how long I've needed this, Granger," his husky words spilled into the night.

"What," she almost laughed, ending on a moan as he rolled his hips into her, hitting the most delicious spot inside her. "Needed to get laid?"

"Needed to desperately fuck you. No one else." At his words he gave her a single sharp thrust into her, and she could feel the rocky ledge near cutting into her back. The pleasure far outweighed the pain.

Desperately.

When his breathy words touched her skin, she unraveled – feeling the familiar tight coil followed by a delicious release as it unknotted.

She was lost in her trembling – clinging to his shoulders, moaning into his neck.

With a few sharp thrusts into her, he joined her in a quieter completion, letting his fingers twist in her hair and palm at her flesh.

For a few long moments, there was no noise outside their pants and the soft rumblings of the waterfall behind them but reality crashed on her quickly, her body tensing in response.

She'd just shagged Draco Malfoy.

"I can feel you panicking, Granger," he muttered against her skin.

"Me?" her voice several octaves too high. "No! I'm not– there's no panic. Just thinking…"

He smiled against her throat, his tongue darting out to soothe the lovebite he'd left there earlier.

"I thought you said you 'desperately needed to get fucking laid.'"

She pushed him away from her, taking the few quick strokes to the shore.

"Granger?" he huffed, still deep in the water. "Are you pissed at me?"

"Nope," she clipped. "It's always nice to have your childhood crush throw you a pity-fuck, but I'm ready for bed. Thanks for the lay, Malfoy." Her humiliation was insurmountable as she summoned her towel around her semi naked and ravaged body.

"Granger!" Draco laughed but she replied only with a scowl over her shoulder and stormed towards the campsite muttering to herself about how she'd turned into an 'easy-witch' and 'what did you really expect was going to happen' for the duration of her march.

She stopped, shoulders hunched at the heap of canvas that used to be her tent.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" she gaped.

"What happened, is your shite at putting together a tent. You're also shite at asking for help," he panted from a few paces behind her, dripping wet with just his shirt hurriedly thrown over his shoulders.

"Oh, do fuck off, Malfoy!"

"Damn, Granger! You would act like I didn't just give you a mind-blowing orgasm."

She gave him a withering look, "Mind-blowing would be pushing it, Malfoy. I've had better," she lied.

He paled and then set his face in a confused glare, "Why are you so mad at me? I'm not saying I sleep around, but I haven't been met with this surly of a reaction in quite awhile."

Hermione tried to take a deep breath. Tried to speak reasonably and not let her emotions steal away the conversations again.

She failed.

"The problem is, that I admitted to having a crush on you – which in and of itself is bloody ridiculous. But then, I go and sleep with you. YOU. You has never given me more than a passing nod or a polite smile. You who would rather flirt with Ginny Potter, a married woman, or Harriet, the geriatric from work – rather than give me even a moment of your attention. And then– then I'm surprised that you only fucked me because I've asked for it." She felt her chest deflate, "I'm not mad at you Malfoy. I'm just mad at myself." Her eyes squeezed shut and she pinched the bridge of her nose too sharply.

She could hear his movement, feel the warmth of him before their skin even touched and when he wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her into his arms, she felt those traitorous tears spill over.

"Firstly, I've flirted with you. Second, if you're wondering why I don't treat you the same as Ginny or Harriet? You seem to be overlooking the glaringly obvious difference between you and them."

"Which is?"

"Which is – that I don't care if they turn me down."

Her heart stuttered and she peeked up through her lashes.

"You care if I turn you down?" she asked in an incredulous voice.

"I have been bloody terrified of you since you punched me for flirting with you in third year," he admitted with a smirk.

"You weren't flirting with me –"

"Yes, I was."

"If that's how you flirt, you're shitty at it," she leveled him with a narrowed glare.

"Well, I was only 13 – I'd like to think I've gotten better," he grinned, leaning down to catch her lips in a heated kiss, his tongue sliding along the seam of her lips until he could dip his tongue in to meet hers. His hands pawing at the towel barely hanging from her frame. She pressed her thighs together, ignoring the returning heat at its apex.

The kiss broke, both of them panting and she looked forlornly towards her tent.

"Lucky for you, I'm not shite at erecting a tent," he squeezed his arms around her and she rolled her eyes. "So, can I tempt you to come in? I'll try again to give you a mindblowing orgasm and promise not to stop until I'm successful," he reasoned with a wicked smirk, a small yelp escaping as he lifted her, wrapping her long legs around him.

She should tell him… tell him that sex with him – under a waterfall – was by far the most bone shattering orgasm she could imagine – but then again, who was she to discourage his honest efforts.