Disclaimer: Nope, no characters belong to me. Though I threaten to kill her and steal Harry Potter every chance I get!!

A/N: I decided to put Forget the Past on hold, and start a new one. It isn't Hermione/Snape, but considering Hermione is so pure, you just have to throw her with someone who can just get her horses running. Enjoy!

Desperate Lover.



By J. Marguerite







No, this was wrong. She was a bloody Gryffindor- Gryffindor! And not only a Gryffindor, but also a frigging Mudblood! Not only was he breaking the unwritten rules about Slytherin having inter-house relationships, or dreaming about having an inter-house relationship, he was dreaming about having one with the enemy house- Gryffindor.

Sixth-year Draco Malfoy lay in his bed, his eyes squeezed shut in a mix of pleasure and pain. Christ, if only she knew of what he was doing to himself every night, the thought of her constantly in his mind. That Mudblood Granger seemed to have him wrapped around her little finger- not that she knew of course. It wasn't as if she was a flirt. She was anything but that! Yet, without her knowledge, he was obsessed with her.

'You are a pathetic excuse for a Slytherin, boy,' he thought, as he swallowed an almost orgasmic scream. He could imagine the entire house saying that to him. He could also imagine his father saying that. His mother, maybe not so much, but his father would probably blow up in hatred and embarrassment if he realised his son was rubbing the one-eyed snake every night because of a bushy-haired Gryffindor. Even Draco couldn't believe it.

His pale hands worked quickly as the young man bit down on his red lips. His warm hands cupped his testicles, and began a small, slow massage. His other hand began to stroke his erection, his mind imagining Granger's own hands doing the same. What would her hands feel like? Soft, and smooth? Or would they be strong and almost callused from carrying so many of those ruddy books around? Christ he needed her right now.

Draco grasped his cock and pumped until he felt a wet and almost sticky mess on his hands, thighs, and sheets. Thank Merlin it was only House Elves that cleaned up the bedrooms. Anybody else would start to grow suspicious. Did House Elves ever think of sex? Draco suddenly shuddered, as his semi- soft length was finally released from his sticky hands. That was a thought he didn't want to think. Did the all-too-gorgeous Hermione Granger think of sex? If so, with whom? Draco rolled onto his bare stomach, and groaned into his pillow. Hermione would never consider having sex with him- he was Slytherin.

"'Mione," he moaned softly, his mind filled with thoughts of forbidden love- forbidden sex. He sighed, as his hands ran up and down his chest, imagining they were hers. He let his hands drift down once more to his groin. They rested there, merely touching his length. Draco knew he had to stop these crazy thoughts- they were driving him insane! But he couldn't help wishing her curly hair brushing against his cheek, her oh-so-soft looking lips pushed against his, his hand clasped around hers as they walked down the Hogwarts corridors, laughing joyfully together.

But that could never happen. And if Draco caught a glimpse of their relationship changing, the red-headed Weasel of a boy- that was a pathetic excuse of a wizard- almost as bad as Longbottom- would throw it away with one of the few curses he more then likely knew, with Scar-face Potter right behind him. The silver-headed boy sighed softly, as felt a slight wave of sleep drifting over him. Sleep. Yes, that was what he needed, a long sleep. Thank Merlin it was Friday. Or was it Saturday now? He heard the grandfather clock in the Main Slytherin Common Room chime One O'clock, though it didn't matter; he needed to stop thinking.

The young Malfoy boy let one more thought fill his mind- would Hermione say 'yes' if he asked her out? Even for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks? Not that he would. He would not only be mocked and teased mercilessly, not only from his Slytherin peers; he would cop a whole lot of curses from the girl he admired two friends. And he didn't need that. What would Crabbe and Goyle think? Nothing, of course. The two were so dense, they would more then likely nod, as they did most of the time asked them question. And it could be about anything.

'Do you like Professor Snape?' Nod.

'Did you just punch up a first year Hufflepuff?' Nod.

'Can I kick you in the nuts so you'll walk around like the two apes you are?' Nod.

Draco shook his head drowsily. Possibly one of the best-known boys in the school (right after Harry-fucking-Potter of course), and yet he was "friends" with one of two most desnse boys in the school. Yet, if he was ever to be with Granger, he would rise into absolute stardom. Or at least he would in his mind.

Draco rolled onto his back, as he finally let himself fall into an easy and dreamless sleep, his long fingers still resting between his legs. A small and rare smile crossed his face. Though it was barely noticeable, it was a smile all the same. His pale white cheeks were flushed with pink as the moonlight barely shone through the tiny dungeon window that was placed in the corner of the boys' dorm room. His silvery hair fell on his cheek, as his naked chest rose and fell in a repetitive movement. He almost looked friendly, but to the outside world he was only a nasty little boy, almost as if he was craving for attention and love.

TBC



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A/N: Well first, and personally "Quite disgusting, J." from my best friend, chapter of my new FanFiction. Draco's quite similar to how I write Snape. Both cruel and nasty on the surface, but whimpering little boys underneath. But, in another way, Draco's easier to write. Think about it- a sixteen/seventeen year old boy that has hormones running around his body. Of course he's going to think about sex. In my opinion, anyway.

Well, if you think I should change anything about Draco, just leave a review. Or, even better yet, leave a review anyway. As much as they depress me, you can flame me. And when you do, you'll get to meet Stabby, my trusty butchers' knife. Recently, he met my hand. Trust me- he hurts!!