Kaleidoscope
Chapter Two

Note: You guys are absolutely lovely! =D Your reviews really made my day better. It has been a VERY lame day, I must say. Cramps at work are never fun, and definitely not when you work at a café in a bookstore. Too much bending and moving and just BLAH. Haha. Sorry about that. So yeah! I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as you did the last, or even more. =) I'm actually going to switch POV's chapter to chapter, because this verse seems more fitting for Hermione.

I don't own anything you recognize, especially not Draco, although that would be LOVELY. ;D

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Do you wanna play a little game?
It's called trust or fall.
But I have taken your mind as a hostage,
So I've already won.

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It's not as though I like him. I can't like him. What would my friends say? The Order? He's the enemy, for Merlin's sake. It's his eyes. They attract me to him in ways I never felt when I dated Ron, or even Viktor. He's an entity of his own, and I'm determined to have him.

I'm not a whore, though he may think so. I've heard of his conquests – almost all of the seventh year here at Hogwarts – and I want to put him to shame. Girls say he romances them and then, once he gets what he wants, he leaves. Well, not this time. This game I'm playing is really revenge. Revenge for all of the girls who have been embarrassed and hurt by Malfoy.

It's for Ginny, who was truly enamored with him, despite him being cruel to her. What possessed her to have sex with him, I'll never know. She says it was his eyes that lured her in.

She was telling the truth.

We're sitting across from each other in the common room. I'm closest to the fire, putting myself in the position where, if need be, I can strip. This game is only happening until I make him fall hard enough until I get to embarrass him like he's done to those I've cared for. I may seem innocent on the outside, but inside, I'm a vindictive bitch. I'm not letting him get away with breaking Ginny's heart.

But what if walking away from him leaves mine in pieces?

I can't think about that right now. I hate him. Truly, I do. It's just that at times he seems different, as though he has a different side that no one ever sees. Like he's afraid to show his weaknesses. And sometimes I think I may actually like him.

That's why this game has to be over with, and quickly.

I stretch languidly in my plush chair and make sure it draws his eyes away from his homework. He's lounging on the floor, a pillow under his arm while he scratches notes down onto a piece of parchment. When he sees me move he glances up, looks back down at his paper, then looks up again, his stormy eyes now glued to me.

I'm unbuttoning the top three buttons of my shirt, trying to look sexy, but I know I'm blushing. Viktor has seen me naked, as has Ron, but I've never stripped for someone before. Not even Ron, that adorable freak. We gave it a go, but he ended it, saying it's easier to be friends with me. Not until after he got what he wanted: A piece of ass. Now he gets it all of the time from his dearest "Lav-Lav".

She can have my sloppy seconds. Right now, I have to focus on the task at hand: Seducing Malfoy to the point where I have his mind as a hostage.

His eyes are fixed steadily on my chest, clad in a sexy bra I had bought just for occasions like these. His eyes flicker down toward my skirt, which had risen in the process of moving into a more comfortable position in the chair, and I smirk. I unfold my legs and give him a little peek at the matching panties I had picked out as well.

If Harry and Ron knew my intentions the day I had ran away from them in Hogsmeade, they would have died from shock. No one expects me to be a little vixen, other than Ron, who knows how dirty I can play. I'm not as innocent as I look, but I let people believe I am, because otherwise I'm just another one of "those girls"; the ones who have sex just to have it, not because they're in love. I did love Viktor, and Ron.

But this – this is revenge. I do admit I look forward to fucking Malfoy, because I've heard how amazing he is in bed, but this is most importantly about righting a wrong.

I hear him hiss a bit – he does it quite often, when he gets a little peek of what comes later – and I giggle quietly. I sometimes wonder if I am enjoying this too much, but then again, a girl does have to have a little excitement in her life every once in a while. I can clearly see his erection, though he tries to hide it, and I smirk.

He's gazing at me with so much loathing that for a second I fear for myself, but then I realize he's looking at me that way because he's weak. I have made him so vulnerable by just opening my shirt and legs just a bit. What would happen if I took my top off completely? Or if I bent over far enough so he could get the full effect of my panties?

I stand, my gaze locked with his, and swing my hips as I walk toward him. It's time to make the first move. My heart is racing wildly in my chest, my breathing fast and uneven. There's something about his eyes that unsettles me, and makes me second guess myself in that moment. What if he rejects my advances? What if he is just going along with this game until he gets what he wants, and I don't have a chance to humiliate him?

I quickly rid myself of such thoughts and gets on my knees in front of him. His lust-filled eyes roam hungrily over my body, and I feel myself heating up just from his gaze. A familiar stirring is happening in my body, and I'm shocked that by just his eyes on my body alone I am getting turned on.

I slowly crawl toward him, my shirt falling open, my breasts threatening to spill out of the bra. I only need to give him enough to have his mind in my clutches, and then I'll pull away and find sanctuary in my dormitory. His eyes are caressing my body, and they are making me burn with passion.

When I reach him he licks his lips and swallows hard. I push my shirt off of my shoulders and let the garment fall in a heap on the floor behind me. The room is suddenly so hot, I want to take everything off, but I remind myself that it will happen in due time.

Before I can work on my skirt, before I can even lean closer to him, he's pulling me against him roughly and ravaging my mouth with his. I'm too shocked to respond at first. His mouth knows things that Ron and Viktor did not. He's not sloppy, like Ron, or too soft, like Viktor, who was afraid that he would break me. His kiss is rough and hungry, and I gladly respond.

I rip off his shirt, buttons flying every which way, and rake my nails down her chest. He groans into the kiss, out of pleasure or pain I don't know. I moan when he shifts so he's on top of me, his erection pressing insistently against my panties through his pants. This intimate touch makes me shudder. I pull him closer and wrap my legs around his waist, trying to get even closer.

His touch burns me more than his eyes do. I feel like my whole body is being consumed by flames, and although it feels so good that it hurts, I don't want it to stop.

His mouth rips away from mine, and he takes in a deep breath before latching onto my breast, his tongue swirling around my nipple through the thin fabric. I moan loudly, arching toward his warm mouth. I can see why girls become so enamored with him so quickly. He knows what he's doing.

I grind myself against his erection, wanting so badly to just finish this, but I tell myself through my passion filled haze that I need to string him along. I need to make him want me even more – if at all possible – and make him fall onto broken knees.

He rips off my skirt, and I barely register the fact that it's ripped down the back. His mouth is still doing wonders on my breasts. My moans become louder with each passing second. Before he can go any further I shove my hand into his pants and stroke his member.

His loud moan turns me on even more. I'm not supposed to feel this attracted to him. I'm not supposed to want him. I'm only supposed to ruin him, but this feels so much more than just revenge now.

I stroke him, my grip tightening on each upwards stroke, and suck on his collarbone, praying that I can stop myself before this goes too far.

I momentarily forget everything – the plan, my sanity – when his finger slips inside of me. I grip his throbbing erection even tighter as he slides another finger inside of me. Our moans fill the silent common room, each panting and thrusting wildly, hoping for release.

I won't give him that satisfaction, though. I'll bring him to the breaking point and leave him there, pleading with me to finish him off. I slow my hand to a steady rhythm and kiss him desperately. I moan into his mouth as he sucks on my lip, nibbling on the flesh, and then releasing it so he can leave bite marks all down my neck and chest.

I've all but forgotten about his erection when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. I hadn't released he had lowered my sexy panties. I thrash against the carpet, gasping for breath as his tongue moves deftly against me. I can feel my orgasm building inside of me, and I am crying out in such intense pleasure that he has to know it is coming.

Which I guess is why he stops and smirks at me.

I sit up abruptly and push him roughly against the floor. I could care less about my orgasm, with his so close, and my plan almost foiled by my ridiculous loss of self-control. I unzip his pants and pull out his member. I look at it, then glance up at him with half-closed eyes, and then close my mouth over it.

He moans loudly – louder than he has all night – and thrusts up into my mouth. I gag but push his hips hard onto the floor and withdraw my mouth from his erection. I glare up at him and slowly stand. He's looking up at me, bewildered, and when I smirk his mouth falls open in complete horror.

Vulnerable, I think as I pick up my discarded clothes. I'm standing there clad in only my undergarments, one breast hanging out of my bra.

He's on his knees now, his erection pointing accusingly at me, and I want so badly to finish what was started. I want to ride him as hard as possible, until I'm screaming his filthy name at the top of my lungs, but, as always, I remind myself that he needs to be completely and totally weak before that happens.

He knew what he was doing. I know he knows my little game of seduction. He just doesn't know why I'm doing it, and he won't. Not until I get what I want. He is playing the game, too, but what he doesn't have on his side is revenge.

His eyes are pleading with me, and I glance down at his embarrassing state and smirk. I kneel in front of him and grab hold of it, and stroke him slowly.

"Oh, Malfoy… You like this, don't you?" I ask, my voice husky. When I'm alone, in bed, I'll finish what he started. But for right now, I need to know if he's falling.

He groans, and I take that as a "yes". He tries to pull me to him, but I resist, and move my hand a little faster. His breath is coming in pants now, and the smirk on my face is even more pronounced as he finished with a mixture between a gasp and a moan all over the carpet. I may be imagining it, but the exclamation of pleasure almost sounded like my name. Granger.

I stand up and wipe my hand on my skirt. He looks up at me, seething, and I smile sweetly down at him. His eyes don't show the contempt he holds on his face, though. They look up at me with such longing, such lust, that I know I've got him right where I want him.

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Note: Umm… Hhahaha. I don't really know what to say after that, except that I hope you enjoyed it and that it'd be lovely to come back from taking freaking midterms to some lovely reviews. =) Hermione is obviously in denial about not wanting Draco for more than just revenge, eh? XD Hopefully the little semi-smut scene was okay. That was the first I've written in a long time, and it doesn't seem very right, but whateverrrrr.