Chapter Three

The next couple of months showed a totally different side of Hermione. Rumors began circulating the school, but no one really believed them because of the subject. Hermione was a whore? Psh, yeah right. Hermione really wouldn't have cared if anyone believed them. Some of them were ridiculous. Some of them sounded far-fetched, but many times these were the ones that were true. Hermione oddly didn't feel ashamed. When she had first begun her little regime of control, Hermione had feared that she would feel badly, that her conscience would act up. She was quickly relieved to find that it didn't after she made out with Seamus Finnagin right in front of Ron just to piss him off.

She had flirted with teachers, male and female, in order to get her friends out of trouble. She had kissed Ginny Weasley just to relieve stress from her day. She partnered up with a new student from Australia, Devyn, in Transfiguration class. She quickly figured out that he was quite intelligent and that she didn't feel much like doing the project they were assigned to. She began fooling around with him on a regular basis so that he would do everything for her. They hadn't had sex, but they had done almost everything else.

Toward the end of November, Hermione had almost forgotten her obsession with Malfoy in her new rush of sexuality. Almost.

One day, Hermione was examining the Marauder's Map carefully out of sheer habit. Harry was looking over at her, but any time he asked questions, Hermione took him to an empty room. Despite the fact that Hermione didn't feel attracted to Harry, he really was quite the kisser. And he had magical hands. He somehow knew exactly where to touch Hermione. Sometimes, Hermione fooled around with Harry just for the fun of it, even when he wasn't being nosy about the map. Today, he didn't ask any questions. Hermione was watching Malfoy carefully while reading a book at the same time. She glanced over and saw that he was leaving the Great Hall where he had been enjoying a late lunch. Hermione's eyes followed him closely as he walked up several flights of stairs…he was headed for the seventh floor. The Room of Requirement.

"I think I'm going to head to the library," Hermione said to Harry and Ron, who were playing wizard's chess. Harry glanced up at her uneasily. He almost looked like he wanted to follow her. Ron just grunted. She wondered if Ron heard the rumors around school. She wondered if he believed him. She found herself glad to know that she didn't care.

She walked out of the portrait hole and up to the seventh floor. She found that Malfoy was coming up the stairs on the other side of the corridor. There was an awkward moment as they stood facing each other.

"What are you doing here, Mudblood?" Malfoy asked in an icy tone.

Hermione decided that maybe the honest route would be best. "I am trying to figure out what it is that you're up to, Malfoy," she said, equally as coldly.

Draco Malfoy had spent the last couple of months hearing all about Hermione Granger's new persona. He didn't know if he believed it or not. He really didn't care. Who cared if she had suddenly started wearing a little make up and fixing her hair? Who cared if her skirt was a little shorter than it used to be underneath her school robes? Not Draco Malfoy. He was simply too good for that girl, no matter how appealing she had begun to look.

Hermione stood there thinking while Draco calculated his response. Malfoy was her only challenge in this school. She could get her way with anyone else. Did she want her way with Malfoy? No, not really. She DID want to know what he was up to, though. And what better way to figure it out? God this was going to be gross.

She stalked toward him, and he raised his eyebrow. "Just because you've become the school's latest undercover slut doesn't mean anything." He paused for a moment. "Now, if you'll be so kind, I would like some time alone."

"I'm not going anywhere," she said determinedly.

He sighed. "Fine." He walked past the wall three times, thinking hard. The door appeared, and he walked in. He hoped that he would beat Hermione in, but she made it before he could close the door. He turned around, anger building in the pit of his stomach. Hermione felt a chill of fear, but she believed that she could get herself out of any situation. He backed her against a wall, and she wasn't sure what was about to happen. He put his lips right next to her ear, and she could feel his warm breath against the tender skin on her neck.

"Granger, I told you to leave me alone. I don't even understand why the hell you're here."

"I told you," she said in a matter-of-fact tone, "I am trying to figure out what you're up to."

"What makes you think I'm even up to anything?" he asked, raising his eyebrow again.

Hermione had to think quickly in order to cover up for the Marauder's Map. "I've noticed your odd absences," she said, feeling stupid.

Draco almost felt flattered, except he remembered how disgusted he was by the girl who was admitting her stalker-like tendencies for him. There were two routes he could take, he decided. He could take advantage of her obvious helplessness against his godlike physique, or he could make her feel like the awful human being that she was. He decided on the latter, at least for now. But why not tease her in the mean time? He almost cringed at the thought of touching her, but he figured it might be worth it just to see how much he could make her squirm. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he wondered how this unlikely pair had arrived at this situation. He put those thoughts aside and began his game.

He brought his lips down to her neck and whispered, "You have always been pretty observant, Granger."

She felt chills thrill her entire body. She didn't really want to respond. She felt immobilized. This was different than all of her other encounters with boys and girls in the last couple of months. Those were on a quest for power. She was frozen with pleasure at this point.

His hands traveled down her body. He slipped one hand up her blouse to find her breasts. Her nipple was extremely hard out of sheer pleasure, obviously, because the room was quite warm. His other hand began trailing up her thigh.

"Are the rumors true?" he asked, smirking. "Are you the new school slut, Granger?"

For the first time, hearing the words come from his mouth stung. She couldn't figure out why, what with how many times the boy had insulted her in the past. "I don't sleep around, if that's what you're asking."

"You don't have to sleep around to be a slut," Malfoy pointed out. He paused for a moment. "Are you a virgin?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She flushed a bright red, but the room was dim, so she hoped Malfoy couldn't see. "Yes, of course I am," she said indignantly.

A vivid mental image rushed through Malfoy's head. Even if he was disgusted by the blood that ran in Hermione's veins, he was still a teenage boy. He had bedded Pansy Parkinson and various other Slytherin girls so many times that they just, well…didn't feel like virgins anymore. He pictured how new and tight Hermione probably felt…and he squirmed a little himself. He had to regain composure. He had to keep playing the game.

"How long do you plan on staying that way?" he asked, trailing his lips to the hollow at the base of her neck.

She actually thought about this question. She supposed she didn't really know. "I don't know…until I find the right person."

He broke away from her and stared into her chocolate brown eyes with his piercing gray ones. "Or until having sex with someone suits you," he said. It wasn't a question. It wasn't an assumption. It was a fact, and both of the people in the room knew it. Hermione felt ashamed. She didn't know how Draco Malfoy was bringing out these emotions in her, but he was. And suddenly she realized that her two best friends, Harry and Ron, had not told her these things. They were not things that she wanted to hear; they were the precise things that she needed to hear. So really…did this make Malfoy a bad person at all? Well, of course he was a bad person. He was Draco Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. But maybe his lack of censorship wasn't always a bad thing. Maybe he lack of caring for other people's emotions sometimes benefited the person he was speaking with.

Hermione stared at him. "Why do you care?" she asked suddenly. She was very aware that his hands still lingered on the skin directly below her breasts and the skin on her thighs. As though he were reading her mind, he pulled his hands away.

"I don't care," he said, shrugging. "I just thought you were supposed to be the smartest witch in this place. It's pretty sad."

With that, he strode out of the room arrogantly, headed to the dungeons. Hermione was left panting and crying. Malfoy made his way to his empty dormitory and…well, relieved himself. He couldn't for the life of him tell himself why, but the way that her skin had felt under his hands had turned him into fire. If this girl could turn ice into fire, Malfoy thought, he understood why she got her way with everything in this school, with everything in the world.

Author's Note: Please review. I know this is a very new story, so I would LOVE some opinions back on it. Thanks so much guys. Tell your friends about this story! :)