Hermione sat on the couch of their shared common room and idly twirled the thumbtack between her fingers, grateful that Draco was off in The Forbidden Forest hunting tonight and she had some alone time to think. If he were here he'd definitely confiscate this thumbtack, all thumbtacks, her razor, her knives, possibly her wand, and anything else he deemed a hazard. Who could have predicted that Draco Malfoy of all people would be so protective, and of a muggleborn of all people! Some people might say he was getting obsessed with her, and she couldn't disagree with them. She really shouldn't be giving him any more reasons to latch onto her, and yet, the thought kept prodding her, intrusive and stubborn like the phantom ache in a healed battlescar.

Could it really hurt to give him a taste? Just a taste! She experimentally let the tip of the thumbtack press into her own thumb. It wasn't enough pressure to break the skin, just enough to feel the bite of the point. Draco wouldn't hurt her. His self control is so much better than hers. He deserves a taste. Hermione dropped the thumbtack back into her palm and examined the indent of a little dot it made on her thumb. No blood.

Hermione didn't know how much time went by. She was transfixed by that stupid thumbtack, pressing it into her skin and letting it go. She knew the soft familiar creak of the door by heart, so quiet that if she weren't listening for it, she might miss it. Draco creeping in, in the dead of night, being so careful not to wake her when she falls asleep reading on the couch. She wasn't reading now, and she was wide awake.

Now or never. Hermione pressed the thumbtack into her pointer finger until she felt the bite of the point, then pressed harder until she felt the skin give. The pain was instant, a microscopic stab and then a small constant ache. She squeezed her finger until a plump red drop sprouted and started to roll towards her palm.

Draco's pupils were blown wide, but Hermione couldn't read the look on his face. Was he disappointed in her? Was it morbid curiosity? Was it...hunger?

Hermione beckoned Draco to her with her bloody finger. He was on her in an instant, chastising her, wanting to fix what's hurt. She silenced him with a kiss.

"This is for you," It's a whisper. It's a promise. Maybe it's a lie. Maybe this was really for her. Even as she held her finger up to Draco's lips, he growled his disapproval.

"Please?" Hermione bit her lip, and waited. Tentatively, Draco parted his lips and allowed Hermione to slide her bleeding finger along his tongue. She watched him in reverence as he closed his eyes and...he moaned. Has she ever heard anything so mesmerizing and sexy in her life? She'll never get tired of hearing it! Can she hear it again?

He wouldn't let her stab the thumbtack into her finger a second time.

"But I want to! I can do what I want to my own body!"

"No!" His voice was gruff.

Hermione eyed the thumbtack and she knew Draco wouldn't need legilimency to know what she was thinking. He grabbed it from her before she could even blink.

"That was incredibly foolish," Draco scolded, leaping from the couch to dispose of the thumbtack. "What if I'd bitten your finger!"

Hermione could practically see him running analytics in his mind. What if he'd bitten her? What if? What if he made her a vampire too and they were together forever?

"I knew you wouldn't," Hermione mumbled. Did she though? Did the smartest witch of her age really know that? At the moment she just knew she wanted to make any part of herself bleed and feel Draco's tongue on her skin.

Draco's demeanor had her on edge though. He didn't seem angry anymore. That had barely lasted a minute. He'd switched to something bemused and devilish.

"Did I get your finger wet?" Hermione looked up to see a smirk on Draco's face. It seemed at odds with the careful way he tended to her finger, healing an injury that wasn't there with a quick Episky. Slowly, cautiously, she nodded.

He was back on the couch, beside her, above her, around her. That damned smirk was taunting her.

"Then I should get to wet my finger, hmm? That's only fair."

Draco's hand was unbuttoning her jeans slowly, painfully slow, practically a joke compared to how fast he could be doing it.

She should say no. He never let her touch him, and she really wanted to touch him, but he barely pushed her unzipped jeans out of the way and had his icy hand snaking under the hem of her underwear. Her breath hitched in her throat. He was teasing her, barely touching her.

One finger moved inside her and her hips bucked toward him instinctively. God, why was he moving so slow? She's felt his fingers move faster than any sex toy could. If a Draco doesn't accidentally kill her, his damn smirk might.

She watched him with her lip between her teeth, cheeks red with a deep blush of blood he's tasted. He pulled his hand out of her pants and sucked on his finger.

"Just a taste," he mimicked, savoring the taste of her on his finger. Then Hermione heard it, that glorious sound she heard before, Draco's moan.

With a possessive growl he was back on her in an instant, a single slick finger harshly rubbing her clit. No human could compete with this speed. No vibrator could compete with this speed.

He was so rough and so fast and oh god he was good. The cold friction had her in bliss. Hermione clung to Draco and relished every second as she got closer and closer to climax.

"Are you going to cum for me, Hermione?" Draco whispered.

She nodded. No words. No think. Just, feeling. Feeling good. This. Feeling, so close.

She snapped. Draco's pistoling finger was unrelenting and she was vaguely sure he'd called her a "good girl."

Even as he slowed down, she felt boneless. She wanted to curl into him and fall asleep in her clothes.

Hermione closed her eyes. She heard that sexy moan as he licked his finger clean.

"I should punish you for that little stunt you pulled with your finger."

She smiled to herself, curiosity outweighing her tiredness. "You liked it."

She opened her eyes when Draco didn't answer. He had a look on his face that Hermione couldn't read but she wasn't sure if she liked it or not. Was he actually going to punish her?

"Draco..." His wicked smirk rekindled something between her legs that was just rubbed out.

"Not now," he kissed her forehead and left her, no doubt to take care of himself in his room.

She should follow him. He wouldn't kick her out would he? And he couldn't possibly masturbate with her there. He'd have to let her help.

Slowly, steadying herself, Hermione walked to Draco's room. She told herself not to knock. Don't give him a chance to turn her away. Just go for it.

She heard Draco on the other side of the door, "if you open that door, you'll definitely be punished for it."

God she was counting on it. She was starving for more. Maybe he'd just give her a peek? Maybe just a taste?