Disclaimer: STILL not mine. Have resigned self to thinking characters may never be. How extremely depressing.

Sorry this chapter is so... lame. I hit a writers block, then got out of it- which didn't help coz I just ended up with ideas for other fics and later chapters of this... oh well... on with it. Thanks to everyone with all the nice reviews and stuff!

Chapter 3

Hermione lay down on the dewy green grass, letting his heavy eyelids close to shield the sun's rays. She smiled, oblivious to the attentions of Draco- still clad in his drenched boxers- who was lying next to her, wide-eyed.

Draco blinked. God, when had Granger gotten so freaking hot? Her shirt clung suggestively to her wet skin, showing off her curves- those goddamn curves! He let his eyes travel from her brown eyes to her full lips, to her soft neck to her... curves... Hermione rolled over to face him and Draco froze in his awkward position.

"I was just, you know," he said quickly, slowly easing himself into a more natural position.

"Right," Hermione said, sitting up. "I was thinking, we should probably do what McGonagall told us to."

"I told you, Granger, for the last time, I am not making a sex tape for her to get her jollies off," Draco replied with a grin. "Unless, you know, you're into that kind of thing..."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Dream on. No, I meant look at this list of things she told us to discuss," she said knowingly, pulling a piece of parchment from her jeans. "See this, for example. 'Discuss little-known facts about each other in order to build a more comfortable working relationship'."

"Oh, what fun."

"I don't know about you, Draco, but I take my role as Head Girl very seriously," Hermione said, her eyebrows furrowing. "And I would like you to work with me, if that's alright."

"Very well then," Draco said with a heavy sigh. "Righto. Little-known facts. Despite my wonderous physique, my kind and caring nature, my generosity which knows no bounds-"

"Get on with it, Draco."

"Fine. Well, despite all this perfection, I do have a weakness," he finished.

Hermione tried not to scream at him. "Oh really? I never would've guessed. So what is it?"

"I have a freckle on my back."

Hermione proceeded to hurl sticks at him.

Half an hour later, Draco was still rubbing his sore skin, red from where the sticks hit him.

"God Granger, you've got good aim. So, little-known facts didn't work out well," he said. "How about well-known facts? I am incredibly handsome. Potter is a wanker."

Hermione smiled, in spite of herself.

Draco's eyes brightened. "Wait a second, I do know a bit more about you, Granger," he said, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Gasp. Shock horror. Do tell," Hermione said.

"You can't fly."

Hermione froze. "How-"

Draco tapped his nose. "I have my sources. Follow me."

Draco got up and started to run back towards the school. What now? Hermione thought, getting up slowly and following him slowly. When she saw his destination- the Quidditch pitch- she stopped.

"No, Draco."

Draco smirked, and pulled out his wand from out of his boxers.

"Draco, what the hell?" she said.

Draco ignored her, whispering, "Alohomora."

The Quidditch shed opened with a soft click, and Draco yanked out a shabby looking broomstick, and swung onto it easily, flying over to Hermione.

"Right. All aboard," he said with a smile.

Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head, backing away slowly.

"I can't," she said, her voice coming out in a whisper. "Draco, I can't."

Draco made a noise of frustration and pulled her onto the broom behind her.

"See? Yes you can. Now, hold on."

"God, can't you put a shirt on or something? Or must you walk around half naked for this whole week?"

Draco smirked. "You know you love it," he said, while making the broom hover above the ground.

Hermione broke out in a cold sweat. "Draco, don't make me-"

Draco ignored her, and started to make the broom rise higher, and higher...

"DRACO!" Hermione screamed, clutching onto his naked waist.

Draco laughed, spun the broom around, and shot off into the air, twisting, turning, going up and down and breakneck speeds. Hermione kept her eyes squeezed firmly shut, her stomach churning, her mind working frantically. It's ok, she told herself. THere's nothing to be worried about at all... fuck, yes there is! I'm going to die! Fuck Draco! Fuck! FUCK!

It wasn't until Draco had landed and was sitting on the ground, watching her in bemusement, that she realised she had been saying all of this out loud.

"Nice flight, Granger?" he said, his face unreadable.

"I-"

"It's your turn now," said Draco cheerfully, getting onto the broom behind her. "Go on, if anything goes wrong, I can always take over."

Hermione shook her head emphatically, and tried to get off, then she realised the broom was already hovering twenty centimetres off the ground.

"I promise I won't let anything hurt you," Draco said softly.

Hermione swallowed. Maybe she could...

Draco slid his hands under her shirt to hold her waist.

Hermione turned to scowl at him, he took his hands out.

"Unfair," he said in mock anger. "You got to take hold onto my naked, rock-hard abs, and-"

He was stopped in mid-sentence when Hermione pulled the broom up into the sky, if only to make him shut up.

"Draco, I'm flying," she said shakily.

She nudged the broom left, and leaned forward. The wind whistling through her hair, the sun sinking into the horizon, this wasn't so bad after all. She chanced a look down.

Mistake.

She hadn't realised they were so high. She jolted the broom, which made them turn at a strange angle and she noticed, with widening eyes, they were fast approaching a Quidditch hoop. She closed her eyes and screamed as Draco let go of her and grabbed hold of the broom, forcing it down in a dive. He landed them gently.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded dumbly, getting off the broomstick shakily. She looked at her two hands incredulously. So she had almost crashed, but she was in the air. She had flown.

"Thanks Draco," she said, walking off in the direction of the tent.