AN: Another smut-tastic oneshot for my lovely readers; a little more plot in this one. If you haven't read my other oneshot "A Midnight Rendezvous" you may be a bit confused, but I suppose it is possible to read this without having read the other first. Enjoy! Don't forget to check out my WIP story Leo and Purgatory as well :)

"You can't tell me you don't want this, Hermione…"

Draco's fingers traced the sides of my body deliberately, his lips grazing my neck and making me tremble. When I felt his growing erection pressing into my back, my breath hitched; he smirked against my skin and slid his fingers underneath the hem of my red and gold sweater to stroke the flesh of my abdomen. His roaming hands left goosebumps in their wake.

It was hard for me to even remember that I spoke English, let alone remember how to formulate a coherent sentence. I opened my mouth to make some unnecessary comment, but he spun me around violently and his mouth came crashing down on mine before I could blink. I fought him back with my lips, flinging my arms around his neck as his own snaked around my waist and held me to him like a limp rag doll, for all that my legs refused to work. Our tongues battled for dominance and we fumbled blindly at each other's robes before my feet left the floor and I was being set down on top of a desk. Draco knocked everything that was on it to the floor with one sweep of his arm, but I felt myself pulling away from him sluggishly, shrieking, "NO! My essay!"

"Hermione?"

I was suddenly on my back, staring up at the canopy on my four-poster bed, breathing heavily. Ginny's face came into focus, her brows knit together as she peered over me; the morning sunlight streaming through the windows of Gryffindor Tower cast one half of her face into shadow.

"Oh, Gods," I sighed, hardly knowing if I was disappointed that the dream had ended, or relieved. I supported myself on my elbows, feeling as though I was moving through syrup when I tried to sit up.

"Are you ok?" Ginny was clutching her robe around her, but I was grateful for the slight nip in the air as the sweat dripping down my back began to dry. "You were yelling something about an essay."

"Oh, Gods," I repeated, sitting up fully, my face falling forward into my hands. "Professor Grubbly-Plank is going to murder me…" I mentally kicked myself as the events from the night before came rushing back to me. Honestly, how could I have been so stupid? How could I possibly have let Draco distract me last night? I had done the one thing I had vowed never to do: let a boy interfere with my studies. Far too often I had seen it happen, and I was not some wanton witch with Pygmy Puffs for brains, for Merlin's sake, sighing after every boy who gave me a sidelong glance and a wink. This was, simply put, ridiculous.

"Oh my. Am I to believe," Ginny said with a mocking gasp and a teasing grin, "that Hermione Granger didn't finish her homework?

"I fell asleep in the middle of it," I groaned, fighting back shame and trying desperately not to recall what else had happened after that. "Luckily I don't have her 'till the afternoon, so perhaps I can finish during… oh, no, not Potions, maybe… hmm…" I felt nauseous at the mention of Potions class, for reasons other than my severe dislike of it. "I'll probably just skip lunch."

Ginny giggled and went to the trunk at the foot of her bed, pulling out a set of robes as a few other students began to stir underneath their quilts. "Good luck," she said with an air of triumph, no doubt reveling in the fact that Gryffindor's resident know-it-all had finally slipped up.

I spotted a wrinkled bit of parchment on my nightstand and snatched it up, my stomach lurching at the smudged writing and creases running through it. This is simply awful! I can't turn it in like this! Ugh, now I'll have to re-do the whole thing, what a waste…

I fell backwards onto my pillow with a thud, crumpling up the parchment within my fist, and hating myself.

Breakfast was an excruciatingly slow endeavor. I stared at my toast dismally, willing it do anything but just sit there and mock me. It did not have to re-write two pages on the mating behavior of Mooncalves by two o'clock. All it had to do was lie on a plate and be toast.

I ate it out of spite.

"What's gotten your knickers in a twist, 'Mione?" Ron asked, taking a bite of meat pasty.

I looked at him sharply before I realized that it was an expression he used quite often. I made a big deal of chewing my toast thoroughly before I trusted myself enough to respond. "I fell asleep writing that essay for Professor Grubbly-Plank last night." Unwanted images flooded my memory; I struggled to push them from my mind, berating myself.

"You've got 'til the afternoon to do it, though," Harry pointed out cheerfully, ever the morning person. I usually was a morning person too, but on this particular morning, I couldn't fault anyone for disliking them.

"Yes, Harry, I'm aware… but I'm going to have it looming over me all morning, and I just can't stand being distracted in one class because of another."

Ron and Harry both rolled their eyes so perfectly in sync that I could swear it was rehearsed, and then turned back to their food. I was so irritable that I chose to ignore them completely, instead rummaging through my schoolbag for a quill and a fresh piece of parchment to begin rewriting my essay.

I was about to commend myself on how well I had avoided thinking about Malfoy altogether, until I looked up from my writing to find myself sucked into that gray-blue stare, three tables over. Malfoy, surrounded by his gaggle of Slytherin lackeys, appeared to be laughing along with everyone else at something Blaise had said, but his eyes were locked on me. I could almost feel the blood drain from my face as my heartbeat quickened. What was he thinking about now? Was I just another notch in his bedpost, and things would return to the way they always were? Would he go on calling me Mudblood and making life miserable for Harry, Ron and me, or did our tryst suddenly switch up the dynamic? If it hadn't, then why was he looking at me that way?

More importantly, why on earth did I care?

I forfeited the staring contest, quickly gathering up my things as heat crept up my cheeks, and muttered something about the loo to Harry and Ron. But Draco's stare burned holes in my back the entire way out.

My stomach complained bitterly about my scarce breakfast as I ran through the dungeons towards the Potions classrooms. Today was really not my day. I had spent the rest of the morning holed up in the library, writing furiously, hardly realizing that the bell for the start of the morning's classes had come and gone. Was I stuck in a bloody parallel universe? In the past 24 hours I had managed to bang my sworn enemy, not finish my homework, and be late to class.

I can hardly wait to see what the rest of the day has in store for me, I grumbled silently as I stopped, panting, in front of the large wooden door, clicked it open as quietly as I knew how, and slipped inside. Luckily, Snape was facing the blackboard, writing an equation of conversion for ingredients we were to use today. I looked left and right; Harry and Ron were seated together, and gave me an apologetic look. The only available seat happened to be right next to….

"Granger!" Snape said sharply, still facing the blackboard, scrawling illegibly. "Take your seat or I will be forced to dock another 10 points from Gryffindor, in addition to the 20 I have already taken for your tardiness." I winced, trying to think of an argument, anything, but found myself moving across the room anyway, sliding into the open seat at Malfoy's table.

He turned his head and grinned at me, the corners of his lips curling upwards in a delicious smirk. I scooted my chair as far away from him as possible, keeping my eyes trained on my cauldron, although I was very aware of his gaze in my peripheral vision. I wiped my sweating palms on my robes.

Let's be honest. It was the worst Potions class ever. It was infuriatingly difficult for me to concentrate, especially when Malfoy would go to lengths to brush my arm with his while reaching for ingredients, or he would "accidentally" knock my elbow or catch the hem of my robes with his toe when he walked past. Each time we touched, I felt a jolt like fire shoot from wherever we made contact. My Peace Draught boiled over, a nasty shade of orangey pink. I didn't have enough of my wits about me to care when Snape made a snide comment about my incompetence. I simply cleaned it up without a word, counting down the minutes until I could leave this dreadful room for the sanctuary of the Gryffindor Tower.

When the bell rang, I was the first one out of there, walking briskly through the maze of corridors without even a word of greeting to Harry or Ron. I just wanted to put as much distance between myself and Draco Malfoy as humanly possible. Unfortunately that didn't seem as if it were going to happen anytime soon; a second set of footsteps echoed mine, and they were getting louder.

"Look," I said over my shoulder, clutching my books to my chest tightly and quickening my pace, "Why can't you just leave me the hell alone? I don't want to talk about this, and I don't want to talk to you." I didn't let it show, but he was beginning to make me nervous. I was practically running now.

Malfoy's footsteps quickened as well, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he overtook me with his long legs. His exasperated voice came somewhere from my right, but I made a point of staring straight ahead. "Damn it, Hermione! Will you just-"

BANG!

"WHAT THE-"

I didn't know whose scream was louder- mine or his- as everything went pitch black, and all of the sudden I was careening forwards through empty air; the corridor had disappeared and my head was spinning, I was being pressed in on all sides; I felt the air being sucked from my lungs, and then-

"Ooof!"

It all came to a screeching halt as quickly as it had begun. I tumbled forwards into something large and soft, which gave way. Whatever I had fallen on top of met something hard on its way down, its form crumpling on contact; with a deafening clatter, dozens of very solid objects rained down on top of my already-pounding head and I cried out in alarm as I tried to swat them away.

Not until the battering fizzled out did I fully realize that I was no longer standing. I lay there for a moment, trying to re-orient myself; my vision was starred and I felt blindly around me for something to hold onto.

A low, guttural moan from somewhere caused my heart to jump into my throat, and I tensed as whatever I had fallen on began to… Merlin, it was moving! I shrieked and clambered backwards, only succeeding in getting the wind knocked out me as my back met a wall none-too-gently. I sputtered and wheezed and held my spinning head as I tried to shift my weight, only to find myself boxed in by another wall on the left.

What in the bloody name of Merlin just happened?

"Ohhh…. Fuck."

Blast. I knew that voice. I tried to suck in another breath as the form across from me shifted, emerging from a pile of sundry… cleaning supplies?

"Wereinabloodybroomcupboard."

I gulped at the sound of Malfoy's disoriented speech. He had just confirmed my two fears: One, that the other figure was indeed Malfoy. Two, that we were indeed in a bloody broom cupboard. My day couldn't possibly get any worse.

"Fuck," he moaned again, and I could feel him trying to stand from where he was entangled in my legs. I raised my head from my hands and allowed my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness before berating him.

"Honestly…" I grumbled, attempting to disentangle myself from him, "is all of that cursing really necessary?" The pain in my ribs protested, and I fell backwards gracelessly.

From above me, I could barely make out the outline of Draco propped against a wall. His annoyed snort pierced the air of the tiny cupboard as reached his hand out to close around the doorknob, giving it a series violent jerks. Nothing. "We're trapped in a fucking broom cupboard and you're scolding me for cursing?"

I ignored him and fumbled in my robes for my wand. "Alohomora." Nothing. I immediately knew this had been Peeves' doing… I'd give just about anything to chain that meddling poltergeist to the Bloody Baron… permanently. Because now I was locked in a broom cupboard with none other than the very Slytherin I had been endeavoring to avoid at all costs.

Fantastic.

He continued, unimpressed. "Well, here's a bit of headline news for you. I'll say whatever I want. So, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…. Fuck…. Fuck."

"You're such a… bloody… child…" I heaved, as I gripped the wall he was leaning on for support and stood. Once I was upright, I opened my mouth to say something else and stepped forward- that was a bad idea, I found, when my foot slid on something cylindrical and I was tossed right into Draco.

I expected him to let me fall, but his reflexes were quick, and his arms shot around my waist to save me from the waiting floor. I looked up at him, wide-eyed as I tried to study his facial expression in the darkness: Impassive for the most part, a hint of that trademark smirk, unless that was just a trick of the shadows.

My relief was short-lived, though: I was flipped around and pinned forcefully against the wall, once again gasping for the breath that had been knocked out of me upon contact. My next words were half-wheezed, half-hissed as my vision starred again. "What the… hell… Malfoy, how dare you…!" I tried to shove him off of me, but he only gripped my arms harder; I thought that they would surely snap, and he leaned his full body weight against me, effectively trapping me underneath him. "You're hurting me!" His closeness was unnerving, but his hold on me was downright excruciating. Against my better judgment, I went limp beneath him to save myself some pain.

No, no, no, this was not happening, not now. I had avoided him so well… Merlin help me…. a broom cupboard… a broom cupboard! Of all places. I hardly knew what to expect from him now, and I'd be daft to think that I could overpower him.

So all I could do was close my eyes and pray he'd let us go our separate ways. I couldn't afford to be any more confused than I already was; I'd much rather go back to hating him and be done with it. Confusion was not something that plagued me often, if ever, and I sure as hell didn't have any idea how to approach it.

His warm breath grazed my cheek. His eyes narrowed, and he loosened his grip just enough so that the tips of my fingers could resolve to tingle slightly. It was enough, but barely, and a glimmer of something unidentifiable passed through his features… it was dark, still, and I couldn't hazard a guess. Then I realized how close his face really was to mine.

"You're the one that's acting like a child, Hermione," he jeered. "Stop pretending like we don't have something, and just embrace it instead of fighting it." His eyes searched mine, and if it weren't for the fact that I was already pinned against the wall of a broom cupboard, I would felt violated by his gaze.

My throat was dry, and in that moment, he looked nearly as vulnerable as I did.

I stared at him.

He stared at me.

We were both silent for the longest five seconds of my life, and then-

I was completely unprepared for the soft pair of lips that descended upon mine, meeting them with a gentleness that utterly floored me, after what had just transpired. I hardly had time to react as he relinquished my wrists and snaked his arms around my waist, hungrily pressing into the small of my back with one hand, the other creeping upwards to the back of my neck. I pulled my lips from his in shock, blinking up at him for a long moment. I was fighting a losing inner battle, and he knew it, wasting no time in capturing my mouth mercilessly again.

I shoved any protests to the back of my mind to be dealt with later; my wrists, having been released, found Draco's broad shoulders tentatively. If anything, my hesitation only excited him further as he crushed me against him with a force that could only be described as possessive and masculine; I was vaguely aware of his thumb brushing across my cheek as my hands crept into his silvery-blonde locks.

I was reeling in this kiss. My legs seemed to have lost all function and I found myself sandwiched once more between the wall and this wizard who was doing the most wonderful things to my swollen lips… I grinned against his mouth as I thought, indeed between a rock and a hard place. He took this as permission to run his tongue along my bottom lip, and I parted my mouth slightly to allow our tongues to meet. A slow, gentle dance ensued inside of our mouths, tentatively at first; then he pressed into me again, deepening the kiss with his raw, unhurried passion. His hands began to wander, from the small of my back to my neck and shoulders, smoothing down the sides of my waist with his long fingers and coming to rest on my behind. Likewise, as our tongues began to battle with more fervor, I ran my fingers through his hair and down his neck, sliding my palms across the broad expanse of his solid chest and tracing the pattern of his lean muscles through his robes.

We came up for air and suddenly his tongue found my jawline, and I shivered at the contact. Draco traced his way up to my earlobe and grazed his teeth against it, and I didn't even realize I had been holding my breath until it escaped my lips in a sigh. He growled at the noise and I immediately felt warmth and adrenaline shoot through my chest, the heat settling and pulsing between my thighs. His hands had found my hair, pulling it slightly so I could allow him access to my neck, and I obliged him by closing my eyes and tilting my head back against the wall. His lips trailed across my collarbone and before I could think, he was playing with the buttons on my blouse.

I was feeling way too much to allow myself to be ashamed as well, so I silenced the little voice in my head that sneered, "You're betraying Harry and Ron, Malfoy is the enemy…" because damn it, I couldn't stop now even if I tried. My blouse was half-unbuttoned and Draco paused to lift his outer robe over his head and cast it aside; I was nearly panting as he peeled off his sweater to reveal his defined torso in all its glory (too bad it was so dark in there… I settled for seeing with my hands, in any case.) He pulled me against his heaving chest once more, and now I could feel just how much he was enjoying this through his trousers… I was all the more lightheaded and nervous at the prospect.

With a sudden burst of daring, I quickly undid the rest of my blouse and stood on my tiptoes to pull his lips back down to mine. Draco's surprise lasted all of two seconds before running his large hands across my abdomen, then to my back, where my bra was soon forgotten on the floor. He shed his trousers, his palms exploring and kneading my breasts slowly, before taking a nipple in his mouth and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. I could hardly help myself, and released a moan that had been restrained for so long by my now-dissolving insecurities, followed by another as he licked his way down the valley between my breasts, and continued southward until my skirt posed a problem.

I really was panting as he slid it down my legs so I could step out of it, then hooked his fingers around my knickers and did the same. And there I was, in all my glory, in front of Draco Malfoy himself, for the second time. He slid back up my body until his lips found mine again.

He grinned devilishly against my mouth. Then his hands skittered down my torso, and those long fingers finally found the sweet spot they were looking for.

My eyes nearly rolled back into my head as he caressed my dripping folds, the tip of a single long digit teasing as it pressed slightly into the dip that needed release so desperately. I couldn't do anything to suppress the frustrated moan that followed, and I grasped his shoulders, pressing his naked chest against my own while he coated his tantalizing fingers in my juices. I was growing antsy, though.

"Please… Draco… " I sighed desperately, clinging to him. He licked my earlobe.

"Say my name again." His whisper tickled my ear.

I opened my lips but what came out sounded more like "D-d-rrrr-aa-coooo…" because the moment he sank his thick manhood into me without warning, I nearly convulsed with need. I dug my nails into his shoulder, my head resting near his neck and my hair spilling across his chest as he slowly massaged my insides with his cock, and waves of pleasure began to build within my core as the sounds of slapping skin filled the tiny broom closet. My breaths were short and shallow as he pinched and rubbed my clit with another finger, setting a rhythm. I rocked my hips into him and clung to him tighter still as the tension in my abdomen became nearly unbearable, and I whimpered for release… "Oh… oh… oh… Draco… I'm…"

He pumped his faster underneath me, stretching me deliciously and shoving me repeatedly into the wall; my punctuated moans became tiny, muffled screams as I buried my face in his chest and clung to him for dear life. And then the tension spilled over as my sex imploded; I rode the waves of heat and pleasure that permeated my core, shuddering helplessly against a very smug-looking Malfoy, who clenched his fingers around my clit expertly to milk the last of my orgasm. He savored the feeling of my warm walls contracting around him, and waited until I stopped twitching against him to slide himself from my centre. I still clung to him, limp, sweaty, and satiated, as he brushed a lock of hair from my face and held me to him.

"I suppose we can thank Peeves later, eh?" he joked. I nodded, completely at a loss to do anything else. I just hoped Professor Grubbly-Plank wouldn't be too disappointed in me later.