Disclaimer: I do not own any recognisable characters in this Fan Fiction

Chapter 1: Respect

"Leave! Now!" she screamed. They'd been rowing a lot recently Draco had noticed. It was hard not to notice; what with sharing the Head's quarters with her and him visiting. Constantly.

"Hermione, please, I just – I want – I do... but when are we. I want a fuck Hermione! There it's out!" 'Shit,' Draco couldn't help thinking, 'wrong move, and in 3, 2, 1...'

"I'm not something you use and discard Ronald! If you want a 'fuck' as you so politely put it you're going to have look elsewhere and that means we're finished. You aren't touching me! Ask Lavender, I know she'll be happy to oblige!" Thwack. "And stay out!" Draco sniggered as he saw the Weasel nursing his cheek, which already had a distinct red hand mark, and muttering to himself about having her whether she knew it or not.

Draco got in the shower and went to bed. He heard Granger do the same. As soon as his head hit the pillow and entered a light dreamless sleep. He woke with a start when he heard a scream come from the room across the hall, only for it to be muffled. He grabbed his wand from his bedside table and ran to her room in 30 seconds flat. As he burst in he saw Weasley butt naked straddling a struggling Granger who was laid on her front. After getting over the initial shock of seeing the Weasel's pale bum, he lifted his wand and bellowed: "Get off her you slimy, good for nothing, rapist weasel!" The red head turned, his face a picture of fear, but did not get off the shaking girl. Draco crossed the room to Weasley, grabbed his collar and flung him across the floor so that he was no longer on Granger. As soon as the red head hit the floor he pulled on his pyjama bottoms and bolted for the door. Draco then turned to the girl whose body was racking with tears.

"Thank you," she whimpered. He didn't respond. He didn't know how to. Instead he moved the cover her, seeing that she was bleeding where the slime ball had tried to enter her. She shifted. He looked up to see that her tearful eyes were pleading with him to stay with her. He nodded and moved to the chair beside her bed. She moved again; her sobs getting heavier and her tears becoming bigger and more regular. She reached out one hand helplessly to him. He took it and guided her to him. She winced a little from the pain she had been inflicted as she sat on his lap and curled up. Her crying was now making her whole body shake. He couldn't look at her. He needed to respect her dignity and if he looked at her in this state, she would lose all dignity. He just wrapped his arms around her protectively and rocked her gently, rubbing her back in an effort to sooth her. The sobs subsided but they remained in the embrace. He was too scared to let her go. He risked a look down at her.

"What kind of self respecting girl goes to bed without any knickers on?" She asked, fresh tears falling from her glassy eyes.

"One that wasn't expecting her boyfriend to sneak into her room and rape her from behind," he said calmly. He was going to kill Weasley for doing this!

"We aren't going out," she declared

"Good choice," he said. He looked into her honey coloured eyes with his steel ones. They were really rather pretty, despite being red and puffy from the tears. He looked up briefly to see that her frizzy hair was more matted and wild than he'd ever seen it. 'Why did he go with him in the first place?' he thought.

"I thought he would respect me," she said as if reading his mind. He cradled her as he took her back over to the bed. As he started to move away and leave her to sleep she tightened her grip on the front of his shirt, asking for him to stay. So he just sat on her bed, with her in his lap curled into his chest. She looked up at him just as he looked down at her and their gazes locked. She relaxed a little. Her balled fists were now flat against his chest but she didn't want him to leave. He could see that in her eyes. He then noticed that the gap had closed between their faces.

"No," he said moving away, anticipating what was about to happen, 'I can't, that makes me no better than him,' he thought.

"Kiss me," she whispered leaning in, "I want you to. I didn't want to kiss him." Did she somehow know what he was thinking? Before he could protest her lips were on his. Her sweet sugary lips that were slightly salty from her tears were moving against his. He responded to it gently, giving her chance to back away. Her hands started to move up his chest and round his neck. He pulled his arms tighter around her waist. The kiss deepened and intensified. He swiped his tongue along her lips and she opened her mouth slightly, just enough for their tongues to meet and enter each other's mouths.

Her hands were lightly grazing his back, running her index finger up and down his spine. He sighed with satisfaction and leaned closer to her. His own hands were stroking her shoulders and stomach through her nightdress. She whimpered and shifted slightly in a way that made him groan. He was careful not to touch her legs or breasts in case she withdrew. He didn't want that. She was too good and he didn't want her to stop. She moved her hands back round his shoulders and down the centre of his chest with the same feather light touch she had on his back. Her hands went past his chest, down his toned stomach, played around his belly button before heading further south. He gasped and his body responded to her hands reaching the edge of his trousers. She shifted her weight slightly, only to add to the effect she was having on him. He traced his fingers under her breasts but she didn't protest. He then stroked the outside of them and she moved her chest up, asking for more. He gently let his hands creep around her boobs and spread his fingers. He gently massaged them with caution and made patterns with his thumb. He was reluctant and didn't want to make her uncomfortable but when his palm grazed her nipple he could feel how taut it was and started to speed up slowly. She moaned against his lips and it sent shivers down his spine. Her thumbs were now running along the inside edge of the elastic on his pyjama bottoms. He groaned and with that one of her small delicate hands dipped inside his trousers and gently held him.

She broke from the kiss and looked down, shuffling slightly so that her position on his lap would not hinder her. She then started to stroke him in wonderment, using her fingertips just to feel his silky skin. This had a more devastating effect than if she were squeezing him and moving fast against him. It was painfully satisfying. Then she slowly wrapped her fingers around him and started to move her whole hand up and down his length. He growled at the pace and precision and thrust against her, encouraging her to pick the pace up. She complied, slowly. He started to groan louder and louder as he reached his peak. Choking back the yells of pleasure as they entered his throat, gurgling slightly. He was going to explode. She must have known and slightly slowed her pace while guiding his hand up the skirt of her nightdress.

He moved his hand further up her leg and as he reached where her legs meet he could feel the heat she was radiating. He looked intently into her eyes, asking permission before entering one finger into her. She gasped. He could feel that she was wet with anticipation and started to feel her, exploring. He entered a second finger and she gasped and bucked. "Oh God," she whispered. She was close to explosion herself and so once again started to move her hand faster along him. He matched her speed and felt her contract around his fingers and moan. They both yelled at the same time exploding in unison. "Draco!" She screamed and his breathing became ragged as he descended from his high.

They lay on her covers panting. He looked over at her and saw no regret on her face, just pure satisfaction.

"Just so you know," she said through her heavy breaths, "I didn't go that far with Ron." He would have gone rigid if he had and breath, instead he turned and looked at her, shock on his face.

"Why me then?" he asked,

"It was always going to be you," she stated "all our relationship is built on is sexual tension." His eyes widened and suddenly he realised she was right.

"Fuck me," he said to himself,

"Maybe next time," she said with a smirk and a twinkle in her eye.