Mmmmm... so warm... so soft... so... blissful... Hermione slowly began to wake, unsure as to where she was, but not exactly caring, as it was the most comfortable place she had found herself in in a very long time. Her eyes sealed shut in sleepiness; she rolled over onto her stomach and pressed her face into the fluffy pillow under her head. Breathing deeply, she inhaled the sweet faint smell of men's cologne and fabric detergent. She smiled dreamily, still unwilling to join the land of the living. Oh how nice it would be to stay in this bed forever. She thought. Turning to her side, she reasoned with herself and decided to let herself sleep just a bit longer.

Just as she was about to slip back into dream world, something heavy leaned itself against her chest, and began nuzzling into her breasts. Startled and ripped out of her faraway state rather abruptly, she wrenched her eyes open. They burned for an instant at the intense sunlight pouring through the window, but adjusted quickly. Looking down, she sighed and relaxed. Oh thank Merlin it's only Malfoy. She closed her eyes once more, her head finding its way back to the pillow.

Wait...

"MALFOY!" Her screams echoed off stone walls, and outside the tower frightened pigeons flew off in a noisy whirlwind of frantic wings and disgruntled hooting.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

"Mr. Malfoy."

"Mr. Malfoy!" Professor Binns shouted.

"Huh?" Draco looked up from his notes stupidly, bearing an expression very near to something Ron would have on his face.

"I asked you what year the Dragon Pox epidemic broke out."

"Oh, I'm sorry Professor, my hearing seems to be a bit off today." He said, glaring daggers at Hermione. Her piercing screams had roughly woken him that morning, and had not spared anything on his eardrums either. She glared back and then looked down at her History of Magic book. "And that was 1379, claiming the life of Chauncey Oldridge."

Binns nodded in approval. "Very good. Now it was not until 1556 that the Wizarding world had any hope of relieving this sickness that claimed numerous lives. Gunhilda of Gorsemoor, whose statue guards the halls of Hogwarts today, was born in…"

Malfoy tuned out Professor Binns and went back to doodling carelessly on his stack of parchment. Minutes later, a paper butterfly landed on his desk, spreading its wings for him. "Read Me" was scrawled in neat, curvy handwriting that he immediately recognized. Carefully unfolding it, he quickly scanned its contents.

-M,

You can't blame me for your own actions. I wouldn't have screamed if you hadn't touched me so inappropriately.

-G

He looked up in Hermione's direction, but he couldn't see her face behind the wall of soft chestnut curls that blanketed her profile. Frustration bubbled up inside of him. Turning over the parchment, he scribbled a note of his own.

-G

I was asleep, for the last bloody time! I probably thought you were a pillow.
After all, you do have a few extra pounds of "fluff".

-M

Malfoy smirked. He knew that would piss her off immeasurably. Sure, he may not call her "mudblood" anymore but that didn't mean he didn't get a thrill out of angering her. Folding the note into a paper swan, he sent it flying over to her desk while the Professor's back was turned.

He observed her as she read it. She straightened up at the written words, and when she turned to glare at him, he saw the unadulterated fury burning in her eyes. He had struck a nerve. Of course, Hermione was naturally thin, gaining only a couple pounds as she developed over the years, but perfectly content with her size eight figure nonetheless. However the issue of weight always seemed to be a touchy area with women. He knew he was walking on eggshells with her, but the passion that she emitted when enraged was just too good and tempting for him to resist.

He watched as she viciously shredded the parchment into pieces before pulling out her wand and setting fire to the mound of confetti with a small burst of flames from the tip. A bit surprised at her actions, he gaped at her momentarily, not expecting such a dramatic reaction. Being the Malfoy that he was, having the training that he had from his father, he quickly wiped his face clean of all emotion just in time to receive piercing looks from Wonder Boy and Weasel King.

"… I expect two rolls of parchment from all of you on the magical maladies of the thirteenth century by the end of the week. And don't forget to name your references, especially you Mr. Goyle. Class dismissed." Professor Binns concluded.

Tossing his belongings into his book bag hastily, Malfoy practically leaped up from his desk and tailed after Hermione. He watched her back as she linked arms with Dumb and Dumber and headed toward the Great Hall for lunch. Keeping his distance from the Golden Trio, he pursued them stealthily. He watched Hermione break from them and round the corner in the direction of the girl's loo.

Not a second later she was in his view again as he followed her into the washroom. She was standing with her back to him, bent over the sink, her hands submerged in warm, soapy water. He placed himself behind her, not making a sound, the noise of water pouring out from the faucet drowning out the steady rhythm of his breathing. She turned the squeaky faucet off and looked up at the mirror.

She saw that her refection was not the only one in the mirror, but Malfoy's emotionless face was there as well, staring unblinking into her reflected eye. Gasping loudly and nearly screaming, she turned on her head swiftly, but… where was he? He was there in the mirror not a moment ago. A hand tapped her on the shoulder, and this time she did scream. A high pitched yelp burst out of her mouth as she turned around so quickly, that she spun herself into his chest.

"Looking for me?" He asked coolly. Her eyes narrowed as she met his gaze, and she felt herself relax slightly. She wasn't going crazy after all.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here? This is the girl's loo, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Don't ever do that again." He said, as if he hadn't heard what she had said.

"Don't what? Tell you that you are trying to relieve yourself in the wrong lavatory?" She snapped back smartly. He smirked evilly.

"Don't ever scream in my ear like you did this morning, or next time I may not be so nice about it." He threatened.

"Nice? I would hardly use that adjective to describe any aspect of you, Malfoy. So next time instead of calling me fat you will tell me my chest is too small or my hair is too frizzy? Oh! What about my teeth? Would you like to take a stab at them too? Ha! I forgot… you already did that." Hermione retorted. Malfoy's smirk only became even more malicious if possible, and she felt his hand reach out and touch her hip. She gritted her teeth and stared him down.

What in the bloody hell does this prat think he's doing?

The hand glided over her stomach, and began it's ascend upward. Their eyes locked. He was smirking, she was near snarling, but both were waiting for the other one to be the first to do something.

Deep breaths Hermione, he's just testing you. Don't. Back. Down.

He moved it up to her right breast and gave it a gentle squeeze. Hermione was now seething.

"I'd say your chest is just the right size, Granger." He drawled huskily.

So that's what he wants… well I can do that too. I think.

Hermione slipped her hands under his robes and hooked her fingers around his two front belt loops. Smirking to match his own, she roughly pulled his hips into hers, bucking them slightly for added effect. She heard him give a tiny gasp, and her smirk turned to a wicked smile. She was just about to go for his robes, when the door to the loo was opened.

Hermione pulled him into the nearest stall and bolted the door. The sound of two girls chatting as the freshened their hair and makeup was merely background noise for Hermione. She pressed on. Her hands swiftly undid the clasp of his robes, and they fell to the floor in a puddle of fabric.

"Is someone in here?" One of the young girls from outside the stall asked. Clearing her throat, Hermione replied.

"Oh I am just changing my robes. I spilt some pumpkin juice on the earlier. Don't mind the clothes."

"Oh, okay." The two girls continued their conversation about whether it was true that Hannah Abbot had really slept with Ernie McMillan.

Hermione turned to Malfoy once again and pulled him forward for a chaste kiss. Yanking his shirt from his pants and unbuttoning it at record speed; she hung it over the door of the stall. Malfoy opened his mouth to protest something, but Hermione placed a finger over his lips and shook her head, indicating to the girls outside. Pulling her own shirt over her head, she watched gleefully as his eyes widened in lust at the sight of her in her pale lavender bra. Capturing his mouth again, she blindly felt around for his shirt. She grabbed it and pulled it on.

Now for those pants... Oh this is so bad! She thought gaily. She unzipped his trousers and unsnapped the button, and in one fluid movement she had them (along with his boxers) down about his ankles as he struggled to kick them off without breaking their embrace.

Hermione stepped back and allowed herself to look him up and down. There was no use lying, the boy had a lot to be proud of, that was for sure. Picking up his robes, pants, and boxers, she whipped out her wand.

"Granger what are you doing?" His hand instinctively went to cover himself.

"Petrificus totalus." She said eloquently. Malfoy was frozen, eyes wide, mouth open, hands over his pride and glory, looking scared out of his little blond mind. Straitening her skirt and buttoning up his shirt, she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Is everything ok in there?" One of the girls asked. Just as the question left her lips, the door was unbolted to reveal Hermione smiling proudly, clothes slung triumphantly over her shoulder, sauntering out of the loo stall.

"Have fun girls. See you later Malfoy. All of you…" She nearly skipped out the lavatory, unable to keep from smiling.

I didn't think he would actually fall for that one. I guess it just goes to show what part of their anatomy boys think with.

Meeting back up with Harry and Ron in the Great Hall for lunch, she was ravenously downing the last bit of her turkey sandwich when she noticed that there seemed to be a stir in the hall, especially among the females. At each house table, girls were leaning over to hurriedly whisper in each others ears. Girls were holding their sides, doubled over in laughter. They were choking on bits of food, and spraying fellow classmates with pumpkin juice as wild tales spread like a wild fire.

Hermione Granger had lured Draco Malfoy into the girl's loo, taken off his clothes, then left him hanging. It was not long before their eyes turned to her, innocently gobbling down her lunch, waiting for conformation. Could it really be true? Hermione Granger was definitely not the type to pull pranks or break the rules, but she sure did have a nasty temper. Once she realized that everyone was waiting for her to do something, she calmly wiped her hands on her napkin, and rose from the Gryffindor table. Marching up to the entrance of the Great Hall, she stood in front of her impatient audience. Rummaging through her book bag, she retrieved the clothes she had stuffed in there not long before. Pulling out the pair of dark green satin boxers, she held them high above her head.

Gasps echoed throughout the hall. It was true.

"Up for grabs." Hermione let the article slip past her fingertips, turned on her heel, and strolled out of the hall, sounds of scraping chairs and frantic stampedes behind her.