A/N – Thanks for reading guys, keep doing it! There'll be a lot more chapters to keep us going through this story. Please, as I've said a lot, keep R + R – it doesn't take long, just a minute or two and it'll help me in my writing for the future chapters. Hope you enjoy this smutty chapter ;)

4. A Close Encounter Of The Witchy Kind

Draco Malfoy was reclining on one of the black leather chairs in the Slytherin common room, his head in Pansy Parkinson's lap. She was adoringly stroking his blond locks, occasionally attempting to lean down and kiss him, but Malfoy was in his scheming mood. He was still excited from the strange encounter with Hermione that morning. She was so different, so arrogant...so gorgeous. What had changed?

"Dracy-poo...let's cuddle. I haven't seen you all holidays and I want a nice big cuddle from my boyfriend." Pansy tried to say seductively, but instead sounded like a spoilt little girl, and annoyed Draco even more.

"Look Pansy, I've told you. I don't want to be your boyfriend. Unless you put-out soon, its over between us. I'm not interested in holding your hand, and cuddling you, and I'm not telling you again, stop stroking my hair, I hate it." Draco snapped at the annoying girl.

For a moment he thought she was going to cry, and he didn't care. Any of the Slytherin girls would sleep with him at a moment's notice, he'd done it before, and he could do it again. Pansy was just a hard one to crack, she thought she was in love with him and that didn't help matters. Having her floating around the grounds telling everyone he was her boyfriend didn't help him get into other girls' pants very easily – not that he hadn't, but, it made it more difficult for him. And Draco didn't like having to work too hard for what he wanted. As a pureblood, a Slytherin and an only child, he was used to being presented with anything he wanted on a silver platter. Hermione on a silver platter...now that would be fun.

"Fine, then Draco. I'll go sit somewhere else if you don't appreciate me. I'm breaking up with you." And with a huff, Pansy moved to another sofa on the other side of the common room, which was empty except for the two of them and a first year student who was admiring Draco like he was a god.

"Fuck off, you little git. Go to your dorm before I hex you. Don't think I won't." He pointed at the terrified first-year with his wand, who scurried away as fast as he could. Finally a little piece and quiet.

"My, my...someone's a bit tense, aren't they?" A female voice floated through the common room. Draco thought he'd never been so turned on by a voice in his life, and was intrigued as to where the voice was coming from.

"Who's there?"

Hermione emerged from the shadowed doorframe into the common room, and walked to the green leather sofa opposite Draco, sitting on the arm of the sofa so that she was above Draco, superior to him.

"What are you doing in here Granger? And wearing a Slytherin uniform? Take it off right now. Right here, now." He smirked as he imagined forcing her to strip down to the black lace underwear he'd sneaked a peek of earlier on the train to Hogwarts. Man, she looked good in green and silver.

"Now, now Draco. That's not very welcoming, I'm a Slytherin now. And my name isn't Granger. My name is Hermione...Snape."

Draco was dumbstruck – her father was Professor Snape!

"No way is that true, Granger. Now get out of here before I hex you."

"Draco, before you say any of the drivel that usually comes out of your mouth, like threatening to hex people, I'd re-think who you're saying it to. Hermione is, in more ways than one, a more accomplished student than yourself, and in a duel I'm proud to say she would pulverize you." Professor Snape droned from the shadows behind Hermione.

"So she is your daughter then?" Draco was dumbfounded. Hermione has always been a Mudblood, and he had been surprised enough to learn on the train that she wasn't totally Muggle-born, but learning she was the daughter of Snape, surely not..?

"Yes, Draco. Hermione is my daughter. So you're taking my name, now are you? Not that I care really, it holds no claim against me. Inform the Headmaster by owl in the morning of the new living arrangements, and your new...name, and I'll see you both in Potions first thing on Monday. You have the weekend to acclimatise to your new house, Miss...Snape."

"Goodnight, Professor," the Slytherins said as their Head crept out of the room.

"Well, well, well...a Slytherin at heart. Who would have known what lay beneath that dorky exterior...Miss Snape," Draco said while standing up from his sofa, so that he was now a head taller than Hermione.

She smirked at him, and ran a finger down her neck to her cleavage, and back up again, teasing him and enjoying the attention. Draco raised an eyebrow, his eyes following the path her finger took down to her breasts. Other boys, Gryffindor boys, had never spoken to or treated her like Draco was now. She felt adventurous and appreciated, for once.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Malfoy.."

"Oh, call me Draco. You'll be moaning it soon enough." Draco moved towards her, for the second time today, and Hermione could feel his hot breath against her cheek.

"Oh, I will now will I? I'm not sure you're man enough to make that happen, Draco. You're all talk. 'Leave me alone, or I'll hex you...' The number of times I've heard you say that, but never seen you actually carry out the hexing. All words and no actions make Draco a very, very dull boy."

He was amazed at how arrogant she had become – all because she had found out who her real parents were? Or was there more to it?

"So what's with the personality change, Hermione? Is it just your adoption issues? Or have Pottie and the Weasel done something? Because I'd love to see you hexing their asses..."

"Potter...he's insignificant. He isn't as good a friend as I ever thought he was. And Weasley is so far beneath me..."

Draco was becoming more and more turned on by her as the moments passed, and thought how badly he wanted to push her down onto the leather and crush his lips to hers.

"Anyway, Snape has set up for me to have my own room, I'm not sharing a room with those bitches. Not yet anyway. I have some things of my own that I need to do, and I'm going to need privacy to do it."

"I can help you with some of those private things, Hermione. Like your panties, for example, do they still need unravelling from earlier? Because as you can probably tell, I'm quite accomplished at that."

From the opposite side of the room, Pansy watched worriedly as her boyfriend and the slut Granger moved closer to each other, staring into each others lust-filled eyes. Granger sat back down on the sofa arm, and leaned back onto her arms, displaying her chest to Draco, who was so close now that Hermione could feel his bulge pressing into her thigh. For a moment Pansy considered going over and splitting them up by accidentally dropping something onto Hermione, but she was intrigued as to what was going to happen.

Hermione felt Draco pressing into her, and for one of the first times (she'd had the occasional strange fantasy about him in her sleep) she realised how attractive Draco was. His blond hair had finally grown out to such a length where it no longer looked greasy and childish, instead it framed the gorgeous alabaster skin on his face. He slid his hands up her thighs and she tingled and the feeling of his soft skin on hers.

"You want this, Malfoy? You want a piece of this?"

Hermione stroked a hand up his chest, around the back of his neck and pulled his head towards hers. Draco's hands slid underneath her skirt, and he could feel the black soft lace of her panties at her fingertips.

"I never took you for a thong type of girl, Hermione," he whispered into her lips.

Hermione arched her back, pressing her warm, full breasts against his chest, and slid her tongue across his bottom lip. She was driving him crazy, and she knew it.

"I said, do you want this, Malfoy?"

"Damn it, yes. You're hot Hermione..."

Hermione chuckled, flitted her tongue against his lips again, sliding her lip piercing against his wet, soft mouth. Never before had she felt this aroused by a guy – she'd had the occasional kiss with Muggle boys from home, but they had meant nothing. Her new transformation had her feeling things for Malfoy she never would have allowed herself to. She wanted to let him do whatever he wanted to, let him take her and have her all night – but she knew she had to play hard to get. If she wanted to make a real Slytherin ally, it would have to be more than just sex. She stared into his eyes seductively, giving Draco the impression she was his for the taking. His face was triumphant and lustfilled.

What a silly boy, Hermione thought. She ran a finger down his chest to the waistband of his trousers and whispered,

"You're gonna have to work harder than that, Malfoy."

And she pushed against him with her hips, turning him on more and more, and walked away, into the room Severus had arranged for her. At her door, she turned around to face Draco, and blew him a kiss and winked at him.

"Better luck next time, big boy."

Draco had been left standing, with a huge hard-on, in the common room. Any other girl would have paid for that sort of behaviour dearly, he would have sent Crabbe and Goyle after her, and she would have begged for forgiveness. But Hermione was the ultimate conquest and the ultimate desire. He was more attracted to her than any other girl he'd ever know – she was the perfect woman now. Seductive and cold, playful and teasing, cocky and flirtatious. He was going to enjoy chasing her – the ultimate catch.

Of course, going to bed in his situation wasn't an ideal situation. Pansy had taken care of it though – what a hypocrite. He'd promised her a nice cuddle, and then sent her out as soon as he'd finished with her. Another one bites the dust.

Hermione didn't just seem to be another one of his future conquests though, she seemed more than that. A future ally, potentially? For the moment, getting into her pants would be enough. It was tempting to creep over to her bedroom – they'd have all the privacy they wanted. He fell asleep, alone, imagining how that scenario would pan out.

Severus Snape had set Hermione up in a large, comfortable room opposite the dormitories of the boys and girls of the fifth year. It was lavishly decorated with large swathes of deep green and silver fabric, and a large four-poster bed in the middle of the room, standing apart from the walls, which was surrounded by silver net curtains. The whole room screamed Slytherin, but also elegance. Who knew Professor Snape could whip up such an amazing room for his long-lost-daughter.

Hermione sank into the bed, and since her transformation into this new woman, she had felt more alive than ever. In Gryffindor she had been pushed to the side, forgotten, and pulled into the limelight when needed. She had been "the Clever one", and Harry and Ron had been the front-players of the group.

Now, it was her time to shine. And she was going to stop at nothing.