AN: I do not own a thing, all characters are the wonderful creations of Queen Rowling. Also, I'm not too proud of this, it's very vague and mehh-y, but I plan on making up for that in future chapter(s)

Nice Legs

Black skinny jeans held up by a white belt partially hidden under his untucked button up shirt, Draco Malfoy made his way down the path to Hogsmeade. A few yards ahead of him, Granger, Weasley, and Potter were also making their way to the wizarding village. Grangers skirt swung temptingly across her mid-thighs, and Potter and Weasley, flanking her on both sides, didn't seem to notice at all.

Draco's long legs allowed him to overtake them in seconds, and as he passed between the Weasel and Granger, he whispered into her ear, so that only she could hear, "Nice legs, Mudblood." He felt her come to a stop immediately, but he kept walking, not looking back. He could hear the two gits asking her what was wrong, and he could picture her in his head, just shaking her brown curls back and forth, too stunned to answer, as he heard no reply from her.

He continued walking, smirking to himself, letting his mind wander, mentally lifting up her skirt and exploring all she had to offer underneath the flowing fabric. He tucked his hands into his pockets, chuckling to himself, and made his way to the Three Broomsticks, ordering a butterbeer and finding a seat next to Blaise and Pansy.

"You're late," Pansy pouted. The action set off a flashback in Draco's mind of those full lips caressing his neck, chest, abs…

"Sorry," he muttered, "I got… distracted." His eyes flicked up as the Golden Trio walked in, Granger shooting him a furtive glance before awkwardly making her way to a booth. Potter and Weasley were still trying to figure out what she was playing at, acting all secretive.

Draco turned back to his fellow Slytherins and started discussing Potions class, the long legs of the Muggle-born never too far from his thoughts.

Back at Hogwarts, Draco was in the library, hoping to find Granger alone. He was pleasantly surprised when he turned a corner and saw her sitting by herself at a table, her nose deep in a book. He sauntered over and sat down directly across from her.

"What do you want?" She asked without even looking up.

"I dunno, Granger, I'm in a library, I guess I'm looking for some information, of some sort…. That's what all these books are here for, right?" He gestured around, but his eyes never left her face.

"Well, if you need help finding something, ask Madam Pince. I happen not to be the librarian here." Her nose stayed firmly in her book.

"Now, now, there's no need to be rude. I was merely being polite, I thought you enjoyed getting compliments from me." One half of his mouth curved upward into a proud smirk as Hermione snapped her book shut and glared at him.

"I don't find 'Mudblood' to be a compliment," she replied icily.

"Oh, that. I was talking about your nice legs."

"My legs are nothing for you to be looking at, Malfoy."

"Then why flaunt them in front of me?"

"I wasn't flaunting anything!" She said defensively.

"If you say so, Granger. It was merely an observation. Well, I think I've found what I was looking for," he said, taking the book she was reading out of her hands and standing up. "Thanks for this, it's gonna do a load of good for my Potions essay."

"That's a book about Herbology," she snapped, an air of condescension in her voice.

"Oh, well, good thing I don't have a Potions essay to do," he smiled again and walked away from her, taking the Herbology book with him, leaving her alone, unable to complete her homework.

The next morning at breakfast, Draco wasn't at all surprised to find her standing in front of him as he tried to eat his bacon and eggs.

"I'd like my book back, please," she said.

"What book?" he mumbled around a mouthful of food.

"My Herbology book!"

"Oh, well then, go get it."

"You have it!"

"No," he replied, amused at how frustrated she was getting.

"Yes! You took it out of the library last night, I need it back," her temper was rising, and this made her cheeks flush a lovely shade of red.

"Right," Draco said, swallowing, "but I don't have it right now."

"Where is it then?" Hermione snapped, getting exasperated.

"In my room."

"Well, could you kindly go and get it?"

"Once I've finished eating, if you come with me."

"Oh all right!" She cried, ignoring the dirty looks she was receiving from the other Slytherins, and growing ever more frustrated by the smug look on Draco's face. "Are you done yet?"

"Relax, I'll come get you when I'm all finished."

"Fine," she said, storming back to the Gryffindor table and taking a seat next to Harry and Ron.

What seemed like hours later, Draco finally walked up behind her, once there were only a few people left in the Hall.

"You ready?" he asked, startling her, causing her to jump.

"Oh," she said, turning to face him, her hand over her heart, trying to calm her heartbeat. "Yeah, I suppose, let me get my things." Hurrying to gather up her pieces of parchment, Hermione tried to stuff them into her bag and catch up to Malfoy, who had already started to walk away. She called back a hurried "Goodbye" to Ron and Harry over her shoulder and managed to catch up with Draco in the Entrance Hall. They turned left to go down to the dungeons, and for a while, neither of them said anything.

"I meant what I said the other day," Draco said, glancing down at the uniform skirt she was wearing. "You do have nice legs."

"They're not for you to look at!" Hermione snapped, slightly embarrassed. She silently cursed herself for the pang on giddy pleasure that tingled her spine at his words, trying to draw her cloak further around her lower half, while still being able to walk.

"It's a bloody compliment Granger, not a threat. Calm down."

Hermione didn't respond, just kept walking with her eyes on the ground, again cursing herself at the thoughts going through her head, like how she kept wanting to glance over at him, or how close his hand was to hers, or just how nice exactly, did he think her legs were? She shook her head to clear it of these thoughts and asked him "How far to your dormitories?"

"We're almost there, but you'll have to wait outside."

"Obviously," she replied, rolling her eyes.

Two hours later, sitting in the library with her Herbology book in front of her, Hermione still couldn't focus. His blue eyes kept flashing in front of hers whenever she blinked. His blond hair kept dancing through her daydreams, and she could still feel his lips close to her ear, whispering, "Meet me at the Room of Requirement tonight."

Of course she wasn't going to go. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Totally inappropriate. Totally against the rules. Completely ludicrous. Deliciously tempting. She sighed as this last thought entered her brain. It was tempting. Who was she to deny how enticing he was? How good he smelled? Or how well his clothes hung on his body? A body that looked firm and strong, and smooth, and….. Again, Hermione wrestled with her brain, trying to focus on her homework, but she just couldn't. She thought that if she decided that she would go, just to see, then her brain would settle down, no longer wondering, but it didn't. She started imagining all the things he would want from her. All the ways he could make her feel.

She clapped a hand over her mouth at that thought, suppressing a gasp. How could this evil git be driving her this crazy? She slammed her books shut, gathered them up, and, noticing the time, raced to her Arithmancy class.

Sitting alone in the common room later that night, Hermione realized he had never mentioned what time. She cursed herself as she thought that it was probably just a trap. A joke he wanted to play, that he wouldn't even show up. But what if he did? Did she want him to? She was so confused. Ever since he passed her on the way to Hogsmeade, she had started thinking about him differently. Why did he want her? Did he even really want her?

Cursing her weakness, Hermione stood up, marched out of the portrait, and made her way to the Room of Requirement.

When she reached the seventh floor, Hermione saw him waiting for her. His tall body was in shadow, but she could just make out his blond hair shining in a patch of moonlight. Getting closer to him, she crossed her arms over her chest, and stared him in the eyes, demanding to know "Why did you ask me here?"

"Why did you come?"

Unsure of how to answer, she gave the most honest reply she could muster, "I was curious."

"Well, we'll get caught waiting out here, won't we?" He said as the doors appeared behind him and he entered the room, holding the door open for her.

Inside, the room was very simple, just a circular chamber with a four-poster bed in the middle of it. "You can leave," he said quietly. "If you want." His eyes were locked on his feet. "I won't tell anyone, and no one will believe you, even if you tried to tell them."

She looked at him, mouth open in shock. So her thoughts had been right. He did want her. "Draco…" she started to say something, but she wasn't sure what she wanted to say, so she just stared at him, waiting for him to explain. When, after a few minutes pause, he still hadn't said anything, she tried again, "Draco, I don't get it…."

He looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed. "Me either," he replied.

Shaking her head, and unsure of exactly what she was doing, or why, Hermione took a few steps further into the room, letting the door fall shut behind her, and making her way over to the bed, sitting awkwardly on the end of it. Draco sat down next to her, and a really awkward silence followed. Finally, Draco placed his hand gingerly over Hermione's and said "Maybe this wasn't a good idea."

She'd never seen his confidence waver, and now, Hermione saw Draco as a scared and nervous young man, who wasn't 100% sure of what he wanted.

Without saying another word, Hermione leaned over and brushed her lips over his in a soft kiss, pressing them together ever so gently. Then, she stood up without speaking, and walked out of the room, returning to her Dorm, her mind racing.