Author's Note:
I don't own anything, that goes to J.K. Rowling.
I love Dramione. And it was three in the morning. I'll try to update weekly. c:
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The sun basked its rays in crimson silk sheets while the piece of cloth rippled along the edges as a hand stirred in the morning light.
"Bloody hell," a pair of peachy lips moaned while a tongue skimmed across them lazily, rehydrating them from the lack of moisture they had recieved during the long night of sleep.
The irritating sound of an alarm was repeatidly going off and Hermione Granger was in no mood for it. Slamming her palm on top of it to quit the beeping, she gradually sat up to face the new day. Her once mangly hair set into deep curls that swept her shoulders as she straggled to the bathroom, ready to get to work. Pushing the door aside, she rubbed her groggy eyes and began to undress out of her pajamas. The room was already warm and steam was protuding out of the shower when she stepped in, letting the running water slide down her back and comb through her hair. Her fingers raked through the long strands when they stumbled across something hard, like marble, but with the feeling of skin.
Ah, skin. It's smooth.
She was stroking it, feeling the muscles lying underneath. Her hands glided upwards and ran across an odd figure.
Bone, a strong jaw I presume. A straight bump, a nose. Two soft petals, mm, lips.
A face.
Bloody hell, a face.
Oh right, I'm Head Girl, and so this must be the Head Boy in all of his naked glory.
Merlin's beard.
Hermione whipped her head around and shrieked in horror as it dawned to her who she was bathing wtih.
"MALFOY?!" her face contorted to pure agony as she threw her arms in order to shield her eyes, as if that would do an help.
"You wanted to see me that bad Granger?" Draco gave her the signature Malfoy smirk as he raised his eyebrows in amusement.
"Merlin Malfoy, why the bloody hell didn't you say anything earlier?!" she asked, flustered, as she stumbled out with what little dignity she had left, covering her dripping body with a towel.
"For my own amusement of course," he stepped out, grabbing another towel and wrapping it around his slender hips.
"You may enter now, princess," with a deep sarcastic bow, he left a stricken Hermione standing next to the still running shower. Not looking back, the Slytherin Prince strode to his room and leaned against his sturdy door as he closed it behind him, a smile creeping upon his lips.
"Pfft, princess. Ah, this year will be most entertaining."
The Gryffindor heroine sighed and let the towel drop from her tight grasp and stepped into the shower for the second time.
"This year will be most excruciating."