A/N: Long time, no post, I know. It's been…well, let's just say life's giving me a lot of lemons. I finally got a beta, but I may have screwed this up.. so, Thanks goes out to Lynette, and perhaps apologies as well. Enjoy ;)


It continued for a about a week or so; with Granger obliviously fell falling for each trick that either Crabbe or Goyle set up, trusting the 'prefect's instinct' she believed she had. And thanks to that obliviousness, Draco got received mind-blowing pleasure each night; every time he couldn't believe it came from a filthy mudblood. Whose first name he now remembered. An amazing feat for the Slytherin prince.

Weasel was surprisingly an excellent addition to the organization. He was enthusiastic in his work, but never went overboard with his pretenses. They were slightly out there, but always quite believable for the girls. He wasn't too bad, for someone who wore hand-me-down underwear. Draco sniggered under his breath at this thought.

'Mister Malfoy!' said an irritated Professor McGonagall, shaking him out of his daydreams. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to allow his mind to wander in Transfigurations, in which where he did not do so well. Granger seemed to be making fun of him under her breath, so that Scarhead and Weasel could laugh. However, it did not work. Weasel, to her surprise, scolded her for suggesting whatever she had suggested, and Potter just looked at Draco in grim resignation.

'Yes, Professor?' he drawled.

'What exactly do you find funny about vanishing mice, Mister Malfoy?'

'Nothing, Professor. Absolutely nothing. In fact, I haven't moved a muscle, and yet my mouse seems to have vanished in to thin air.' He made a gesture to indicate his lack of mouse, and looked around his table like he was trying to find it. Crabbe and Goyle sniggered at this movement, as it was their master's wish for them to do so.

Girls screamed and they scrambled up on their seats.

Using the distraction, Weasel moved closer to Draco, and spoke in a low voice.

'Hey, Malfoy, I hear that Lucas is skipping on you tonight.?

'What's your point?' he asked professionally. Weasley at one time had been a miserable poor little bastard, which he still was, with the exception that he now worked for Draco. And he treated his employees with as much civility as possible.

'Well, I was wondering if I could take his time slot instead of mine.' he explained frankly. 'Hermione's refusing to help me with my Potions essay. Something about being too tired...' Draco smirked at this discreetly. So the girl was feeling the effects of their secret sex life. The one she had no clue was happening at all.

'It's your choice, Weasley, just as long as you put in the right amount of time.'

As the redhead opened his mouth to thank him, they were suddenly interrupted by Potter and Granger, come to rescue Weasley from Draco. Weasley quickly willed his face to turn red, which was not that difficult to do, and swore at Draco with a wink.

'You, you,' he stuttered, just as the counterparts of the Golden Trio came by.

'Yes, me. What about me, Weasley?Draco drawled.

'C'mon, Ron, he's not worth it.' hissed Granger, pulling Weasel away, glaring at Draco. Potter just stood by, as if for moral support. Ah, Potter. He was one to figure out. One would think that a normal teenaged boy would jump at the chance of realizing the sexual frustration boiling up inside of him. But the great Harry Potter was not a normal boy. No, he would not bend so low as the Weasel and many others did, tricking girls into having sex with them. Draco had heard that muggles did this often. He'd only taken the procedure a step further. Nothing wrong with that.

He settled back against his seat, gray eyes back on Granger. Her attention had turned back to the board, where McGonagall was, droning on about Transforming something or other. Returning to daydreaming, he smirked at the prospect of pounding into the mudblood all night long.