Witches, Wizards, and Muggles alike,

I am happy to add this chapter. Having written it in-between classes, I'm sure there needs to be quite a bit of editing. But I am too anxious! Let me know how you feel and what you think! I welcome you all. Also, while this is all for the most part innocent, there is a slight bit of naughtiness. Nothing to be afraid of, mind you.

Love,

SweetSlytherinPrincess

Locomotive

Chapter III

The mornings came and went slowly. Each new day seeming to stretch longer and longer despite the fact that the days were in fact getting shorter as autumn chugged along. His rank as Head Boy hadn't brought much new difficulty to his life. It consisted mainly of rerouting students, planning events, paperwork, and walking the corridors at night in search of delinquents. Nothing too out of his way, for he had often found his way into other people's business- only now it was his job.

While the work itself hadn't brought much difficulty, Draco had begun to feel the same hatred for the school as he had had when the Dark Lord lived. Laying in his bed, staring up at the stone ceiling, Malfoy couldn't help but scowl. The students, an unholy mix of blood. The classes seeming mundane and repetitive. He'd be damned to have to stay here much longer. Every second of every day he fought to rid images of his past from his mind.

Even in his sleep however, he was haunted by the horror that was Hogwarts. The deeds he had done. Forced to do. Perhaps even enjoyed doing at times- when it came to toying with Potter. But things had escalated for him in a way he hadn't realized possible. Before he knew it he was fulfilling some demonic, horrific prophesy planned out by the definition of evil itself. Now he couldn't walk halfway down Diagon Alley without his face appearing in the Daily Prophet. He couldn't pass through the hallway without receiving wide stares of confusion and anger.

He was hated, he knew. But he hadn't lived his live to be loved by anyone, so he wasn't going to start now. He shifted in his bed, the moon gleaming in from his window, falling delicately on his stone pale skin. His eyes reflecting the coldness he felt. With his hands folded behind his head, he sighed, images of his past playing through his mind. Images of his father glaring down at him. Voldemort grinning wide. The dark mark writhing in his skin. He shuddered, sitting up quickly and pulling up his sleeve to be sure.

"Damn…." He breathed heavily. His forearm baring nothing more than a faded memory. He stood now, padding quietly down the hall. The balls of his feet met with cold stone, and he shivered slightly. But as he turned the corner to meet the entrance to the main commons, he met warmth and light.

"Bloody hell, it much be past midnight…" He spoke softly to himself, squinting to see if someone was awake. A fire was crackling brightly, yet there was none to be found longing the seats adoring the room. He moved closer, his body relaxing slightly as the heat warmed him. Cautiously he made his way through the room, only to find a small figure laying before the fire on the floor. Curled up and breathing softly.

"Granger…" Malfoy smirked devilishly. Looking down, the young girl was clad in a soft pale-pink night shirt and shorts. Her small frame wrapped around itself, her hair a wild tousled mess spread across the floor. Her face angled towards the warmth of the fire, her skin an amber glow, and her pink lips parted slightly.

He breathed. Standing over her. Never before had he seen so much of her skin. Perfect and smooth. Her usually frazzled hair now falling in a curly mess that made his stomach turn.

"Granger?" He spoke softly, cautious to see if she would wake. She stirred none, and with this he crouched and sat on the floor beside her. His own skin warming, the fire dancing wildly before them. Oh god how he wanted to touch her. Simply feel her skin, her hair. He longed to know wha her lips might feel like upon his. Trailing along his skin.

He shivered. Scooting away from her in disgust.

"What in god's name am I doing?" He scolded himself, burying his rough hands in his hair. She was a mudblood! She was the enemy! Since the beginning she had been the entirety of what he hated. Prissy and a know it all. Always laughing, always loved by those around her. Potter and the Weasel practically worshipping the ground she walked on.

And why wouldn't they? Look at her.

He lifted his head a moment, just as she shifted, her mouth parting in a sweet sigh as she rolled towards the warmth, her back facing him now. His eyes trailed down her frame, hoping to memorize the curve of her body. He leaned forward, breathing in the sweet, spicy smell of her.

"Malfoy…" He jerked backward, his heart racing at the sound of his name. Had she known he was there? How long had she known? He shifted quickly to find his footing as Hermione slowly and sleepily rubbed her eyes as she stretched. She rolled over again and propped herself up on her elbows, yawning.

"I thought I had heard you." She mewed quietly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. He was standing now, his eyes wide with shock and fear.

"What the hell are you doing out here Granger?" He spat coldly. "Scared me half to death, finding you unconscious out here." His tone and volume woke Hermione up quickly, and she was soon picking herself up from off the floor.

"Pardon me Malfoy, but this common room is not yours! I have every right." Her chin tilted up defiantly, and Draco couldn't help but imagine trailing his hot mouth down her neck. He cursed under his breathe and turned her shoulder to her slightly.

"Good god woman sleep in your bed. I know your kind might be more accustomed to hanging around with the pests but have some decency. And put some clothes on while you're at it." She laughed at this, his attempt to insult her bloodline ineffective.

"Malfoy, I dozed off after a bit of light reading." She motioned to a rather thick book laying on the end table. "I apologize for getting you so worked up." She grinned wickedly, laughing as she closed the space between them. Her own boldness catching herself off guard.

"I wasn't fully asleep Malfoy. How long was it that you sat there with me? And just what were you thinking?" Her chin jutted up at him, almost as if it was a dare. His silver eyes narrowed, and the heat of anger and lust washed over him.

"Watch it, Granger." He said through his teeth.

"Or what?" She tilted her head, her hair falling to the side, leaving her shoulder bare.

"I don't think you quite understand the tenderness of your situation." He gritted his teeth as his eyes took in every bit of skin they could. "Don't tempt me mudblood, I always get what I want." As they spoke, almost as if unconsciously, their bodies had moved closer. When Malfoy broke away, storming back down the hall towards his bedroom, Hermione was left feeling cold wash over her. Her face scrunched with confusion and anger.

What does that even mean?

Hermione fumed as she made her way down the opposite corridor towards her own quarters. Her face was undoubtedly red with anger and embarrassment. She huffed, slamming her doors behind her, disregarding the early hour.

"That sodding idiot!" She breathed, crawling under her blankets and wrapping herself into a cocoon. Never before had she felt such a powerful anger. But it was anger mixed with something else. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to rid the image of Malfoy from her mind. His tall, toned figure pressed close against her. Hard and unmovable. His haughty mouth angering her, yet drawing her in as he spoke.

She cursed, her voice muffled against the sheets as she feel a sweet warmth wash over her and settle between her legs. She shifted, trying to dodge the feeling. But slowing, almost as if against her will, her hands slid down her body, stopping briefly to tease her own rosy nipples beneath her nightshirt. Her legs shifted with anticipation as her fingers found her center, and she worked herself into sleep, making soft sounds into the night.