TITLE: Experience 4/?

RATING: R

PAIRING: DM/HG, HP/HG

SUMMARY: Love triangle between Harry/Draco/ Hermione. Hermione enlists Harry's help to seduce Draco Malfoy.

DISCLAIMER: Only the plot is mine. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco and the rest all belongs to the incomparable J. K. Rowling.

"They cancelled Advanced Arithmancy," Hermione repeated numbly. She held a crumpled letter in her hand.

Ron, Harry, Parvati, Ginny, and Hermione were in the Great Hall for their study and snack break. The house elves always provided snacks for the students while they studied. At their table, there were two wooden bowls of popcorn, a basket of apples, and a tray of Wizards sweets. There was also a large pitcher of pumpkin juice. All around them, students were opening letters and parcel packages from home. The owls had just delivered the day's mail.

"It'll be okay, Hermione," Ron said. "Its not like they called off Christmas or something."

Hermione sent him a withering look. Ron would never understand her devotion to school. "No, Ron, not one class. All of it. There won't be an Advanced Arithmancy class this year."

"Why?" Parvati asked as she passed an apple to Ron.

"Professor Vector has been ill and she can't teach a full course load. They decided to cancel the advanced section because there were so few students in it."

"You'll need another elective now," Ginny said. "Do you have anything in mind?"

Ginny was seated next to Harry who was uncharacteristically silent this afternoon. He had his nose buried in his History of Magic textbook, apparently fascinated by his reading assignment.

"I've taken most of them," Hermione answered honestly.

"Why don't you take Advanced Muggle Studies with me?" Ron finished polishing his apple on the sleeve of his robe and took a bite.

She examined her letter once more. "No, its full. Professor McGonnagall gave me a list of the open ones." She groaned then. "The only one I haven't taken is Advanced Divination."

"I'm in there," Harry said quietly. It was the first thing he'd said all afternoon. Harry had been lost in thought all afternoon, mostly because he was thinking about Hermione. He was terrified of accidently giving himself away in front of Ginny.

Everyone turned to stare at him.

"What? I still hate that class but I'm required to take it. Professor Dumbledore said I should stretch my intuitive abilities." He shrugged, clearly embarrassed. "Because I have a connection to Voldemort anyway. He thinks I may be able to get a premonition or something." He allowed himself to look at Hermione. Harry made sure his face was neutral and his motivation could, in no way, be perceived as more than platonic. "We haven't even had class yet. Professor Trelawney just got back from Romania this morning."

"Maybe she should try to get into a class with her crush," Ginny suggested slyly. "After all, Harry, she might be your girl friend but she has her own life to lead, right, Hermione?"

Hermione grinned at Ginny's obvious ploy to separate her from Harry. She'd have a fit if she knew what Harry had agreed to coach her on. "Actually, Gin, my crush was in my Arithmancy class. I've no idea what elective he'll be taking."

"Maybe you could ask him," Ginny suggested. "Or you could just tell me his name and I'll do it for you."

"And wouldn't that be a weird conversation?" Hermione mused. "No, I don't think so, Ginny, but thanks for the offer. I'm just not ready."

"Oh, that's too bad, Hermione," Harry said with feigned sympathy. "Guess you'll be in divination with me, huh?" Inside, he was dancing. They'd have a class together, just the two of them. No Ron, Parvati, Ginny, or that blasted Malfoy to muck it up.

She smiled. "I guess so."

Ginny scowled.

Hermione found herself at the Quidditch Pitch once more. Ron and Harry were participating in yet another scrimmage game, against Hufflepuff this time. Ginny and Parvati had decided to not watch, in favor of a little 'girl time'. They offered to include Hermione but she always felt like a third wheel in those situations. Hermione was friendly with the two girls but her real friends were Harry and Ron.

Hermione preferred these quiet practice games only attended by players and their friends to the raucous matches she was used to going to. Gryffindors were a fanatic lot when it came to their Quidditch team and fights sometimes erupted between members of opposing Houses. The rivalry between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor was healthy and sporting. In the distance, she saw several players batting around the quaffle and scoring the occasional point. This was more of a practice drill then a match. Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by Ron who sped past on his broom and paused to wave at her before he smacked a bludger. She could also see Harry and the Hufflepuff Seeker were chitchatting as they waited for the snitch to put in an appearance.

As there was nothing really happening now, she leaned back on the bench and closed her eyes, letting the sun beat down on her. She might as well soak up as much warmth as she could. Far too soon, it would be cold and snowy. Earlier that day, Hermione had stripped off her robes, necktie, and sweater vest due to the heat. She'd been uncomfortable in her heavy clothes most of the day. They were in the throes of an Indian Summer and the school's cooling charms weren't enough to combat the humidity. She caught the summery scents of cut grass and freshly turned earth. She could hear the hum of bumblebees who were flitting about the bleachers, drawn to the activities of the students.

"Getting a tan, Granger? I'm disappointed, I thought Muggle girls always wore something far more skimpy while sunning themselves."

Hermione could literally feel the red seeping into her cheeks. She knew exactly who it was. "Malfoy," she acknowledged, opening her eyes to see him floating above her once more. He was clad in part of his school uniform as well. He wore his trousers and his white shirt with the sleeves rolled and the collar unbuttoned, exposing most of his chest.

"They make cosmetic charms to do that, you know. I could teach you one."

"You obviously don't use them," She said gesturing to his pale skin.

"Of course not. . .its so common," Draco said, sounding quite a bit like his father. "You're not tan either, Granger."

"No, I spent most of my summer studying potions," she said ruefully. "It didn't leave much time for a holiday."

"Well, then, you're due." Malfoy extended a hand. "Why don't you come with me and we'll have a bit of fun?"

"I promised Harry and Ron that I'd watch their match. Its really pretty interesting, Ron just hit a bludger not too long ago," Hermione lied. She found herself staring at his hand. The fingers were long and tapered, the nails were clean and freshly buffed. Her gaze drifted up to his stormy grey eyes which were issuing an unmistakable challenge. By the way he said 'fun', she doubted they would be doing anything as wholesome as reading a book or seeing a movie.

"How interesting could it be? You were practically falling asleep. I'm sure Scarhead and Weasel will do just fine without you."

"Hey!" Hermione bristled at the unflattering terms he'd used her for her friends but, unfortunately, he was right . . .about being bored not her friends. She was bored stiff and she'd only been here a half an hour. "I guess I could take a little break." She hesitantly took his hand and he pulled her aboard his broom.

"There you go, then," Draco said, trying not to smile like a fool. She'd actually chosen him over friends, albeit in a small way. It was the first of many small victories.

Hermione swung her legs over either side of the broom, bracing a hand against Malfoy's muscled thigh. He drew her into his body and she sighed in wonder at how well they seemed to fit together. Her head was tucked under his chin and his body bracketed hers as if it were made for her. "I've never ridden on one of these before," she confessed as she ran an admiring hand down the polished wood. Draco had a Firebolt 2, it was a sleek black model with enough room and power for two people.

"Ah, a virgin," Malfoy purred in her ear. "I'll have to take it slow then. Give you a good ride."

Hermione would have rolled her eyes if it didn't sound so damn sexy when he said it.

"Here then, let me show you how to hold my broomstick." He fit his hands over hers and positioned them on the broomstick. "Good girl. Hold it just like that. Not too tight, just enough pressure to hold on to it." And with that, he kicked off and thrust them both into the air.

"Why are you so tense?" Malfoy asked. One hand had a death grip on his thigh and the other clutched his broom. He didn't mind but he wanted her to enjoy herself, let go a bit. They were far above the field, gliding through a world of white clouds and patches of blue sky. Draco loved flying. He never felt as bold and independent when he was on the ground and he couldn't understand Hermione's hesitation.

"I'm afraid of heights. Its not, pathological or anything, but they make me nervous," Hermione explained.

"What if I promised not to drop you?"

"Weren't you the one who told me not to trust you yesterday?"

"Too right. I did say that. Well, I haven't lost a passenger yet. Does that help?" he teased.

"I don't think that's going to do it. Can we find a place on the ground to have fun at?" Hermione pleaded.

"And where would that be? The Gryffindor common room? The library, perhaps?" He clucked his tongue. "I'm not an exhibitionist, Granger. What you need is to relax," He thought a moment. " I have just the thing."

"A spell?" She asked. "Because I've tried those but they only give you false courage."

Draco brought the broom to a halt. "I know. Combine that with all that unfounded Gryffindor courage of yours and you'd probably leap off the broom and try to fly."

"You're probably right about the last bit but my courage is not unfounded, Malfoy! Just because you Slytherins slink around behind the scenes with your little plots and-"

"Do stop being tiresome, Granger. Turn around here and look at me properly."

"T-turn around?" Hermione's hold on his leg grew painful. "On a broom a mile above the ground?"

Draco sighed. "Fine, I'll move you." He withdrew his wand from his pocket. "Tornare!"

Hermione felt a tickling sensation all over her body and then found herself turned around and facing Malfoy who tucked his wand away with a satisfied smirk. She was practically on his lap, her legs overlapped his slightly, their thighs were on top of each other. Hermione started to scramble away from him but remembered where they were. "Do you know how dangerous that was. . .? You could have-"

"Calm yourself, Granger. It was a simple movement charm. I've had that one down since first year." His arms slid around her back and pulled her completely on his lap. "Isn't this better? Cozy, even."

"Yes," Hermione said in a breathless whisper. Although 'cozy' didn't cover it. She could feel him, hard and strong between her thighs. Their mouths were scant inches apart. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek.

Draco closed the inches between them by placing his mouth over hers. He pressed his lips against hers in a soft succession of kisses. Each touch was slight and subtle. Then, his tongue outlined the seam of her lips. Hermione automatically opened her mouth to grant him access and he entered. But he wasn't through tempting her. His tongue urged hers to dance with it, with flickering little touches. Hermione moaned as she gripped his shoulders, trying to get a better hold on him. His own mouth captured the sound and he finally unleashed himself, giving free reign to the need within himself.

Hermione was everything he was raised to hate. She was an uppity little Mudblood with a loud mouth and soft lips. His father always told him that Mudbloods were foul creatures who were unworthy of the gift of magic. He said that they threatened their society and should be stamped out. Right now, at this precise moment, Draco couldn't care less what his father said. He wanted her. . . end of story. And Malfoys took what they wanted - his father had taught him that as well. The part of him that was still rational registered what she was. But the sordidness of it all excited him, added spice to the taking. Touching her like this gave him pleasure and he was a young man ruled by his desires.

Hermione had never experienced anything like Malfoy's expert kiss. She'd been subjected to the crude but enthusiastic fumblings of boys who had no idea what they were doing. Malfoy might not be older than she was but he was definitely not a boy. She also knew it was dangerous. Draco Malfoy was just as likely to chuck her off this broom as he was to kiss her. He should have been off-limits and that made her want him even more.

When they broke apart they were both trembling with need. Draco traced her swollen lips with a finger as she spoke hesitantly. "Malfoy, I want to but are we going to do this here?"

"Not this time," Draco replied, his voice hoarse but filled with cocky self-assurance. "Relax, Granger. I only wanted an appetizer, not the main course."

"Oh," she sighed. "Wait a minute, did you just compare me to a meal?"

He chuckled. "Yes, I did. A gourmet meal that I want to savor." He deliberately lifted his hips, letting her feel the pulsing length of him between her thighs. "Half the fun is in the anticipation, don't you think?"

Hermione was silent, it was too much effort to form words when her thoughts were centered on her body and the aching void within it. And the size of him ... wow ...

"You still with me, Granger?" Malfoy asked, amusement in his voice.

Hermione was aghast at her own behavior but her curiosity was piqued. "Malfoy, are you insinuating that you've had sex up here before?"

Malfoy lifted a slim perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He pulled her against his chest once more, tucking her head against his shoulder. "Hold on tight. It's time to come back to earth."

When Hermione got back to her room, Harry was seated on her bed. He had just come from the showers, his hair was slightly damp, it parted over his forehead to reveal his zigzagged scar. He was dressed in a pair of Muggle jeans and a red t-shirt.

Hermione's room was clearly feminine and he looked out of place in it. There was a full-sized four poster oak bed in the very center. Several rugs covered the wood floors and provided warmth in the winter. A large fireplace dominated one wall of the room. It was currently under a Frigus charm which caused it emit cold vapor.

"I passworded my room this morning. How did you get it?" she asked. She wasn't angry, just curious. Harry, on the other hand, was clearly peeved about something. "It wasn't that hard, Hermione. 'Malfoy' isn't exactly original."

She scowled at him. "It was all I could come up with for the moment."

"Where did you go this afternoon? I looked up and you were gone."

"Oh!" Her face brightened. "Malfoy came and got me."

"And what did he do with you once he 'got you' ?" Harry was trying to keep his tone light.

Hermione collapsed on the bed beside him in a dreamy fashion. Her head was pillowed on his thigh. "He kissed me, Harry, and it was. . .wow. There aren't words to explain how very 'wow' it was," she sighed. "Wow."

"That good, eh?" Harry asked. Mentally, he was imagining the next Quidditch match against Slytherin. It would be a damn shame if Malfoy had an "accident" that broke all his teeth - kept him from kissing anyone for awhile. Hermione turned to stare at him with glittering eyes. Her lips were pink and swollen and her cheeks were tinged with red. In short, she was breathtaking. And it was all due to Malfoy and his god damned kiss. It couldn't have been that great. "What's your basis for comparison, Hermione? Have you kissed many guys?"

"Well, Viktor and Ron, of course. Their kisses were nice but not like-"

"Malfoy's. I get it. And three guys is a small number."

"Oh, really? And just how many girls have you kissed?" She questioned.

"Six. Twice as many as you," Harry said proudly. "So I know a good kiss when I experience one."

"And you think I don't?" She asked skeptically.

"No. You only know that Malfoy-" Ugh! He hated saying that name! "Is better than those two."

"So, you're saying I should go out and kiss more boys. Comparison shop." Hermione nodded. It made sense and was based on sound economic reason.

"No!" Harry cried. He had this awful vision of Hermione setting up some sort of kissing booth. She would snag perfect strangers from the street and kiss them, all the while keeping detailed notes on their kisses with categories like 'tongue' and 'moisture'.

"Oh?" She frowned. "Then, I'm confused. I mean, what does it matter if Malfoy's better or worse than any other theoretical person? I'm still going to have sex with him."

Harry thought on his feet. "A kiss is everything, Hermione. It's a. . .preview of what's to come. A guy who's not a good kisser won't be good in bed. You need to make sure Malfoy's worth it. Your first time is important." He blew out a breath. "Why don't you kiss me?"

"Harry," Hermione began worriedly as she scooted away from him and sat up. "We agreed that you and I would not be having, er, physical sessions. You have a girlfriend and I-"

"I know," Harry admitted. He tried to think of some rational, sane reason to get her to kiss him. Maybe it would be like one of the Muggle fairy tales. He would kiss her, effectively breaking the spell, and she would forget all about Malfoy. "Well, you see I've kissed six people so it would be like you were not only kissing me but everyone I kissed."

She narrowed her eyes and he could see that she was mentally trying to do his 'fuzzy math'. "I guess that sounds right. But I've already kissed Malfoy and he's kissed so many girls that-"

"Yes, but he's your experimental group, I'm the control group. See?" He nodded, proud of his use of scientific terms she was sure to enjoy. "It's an experiment."

"But what about your girlfriend?" What Harry had said made sense in an odd sort of way but Ginny was troubling to her.

"This doesn't count as cheating on her. We're not doing anything wrong, we're testing. . .testing a theory!" It was as much of an experiment for himself as her. Harry wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss her. He wanted to know if there was something worth pursuing.

"Okay, then. Let's do this." Hermione scurried off the bed and Harry stood up too so they were facing each other, eyeing one another warily.

"Er, maybe we should start off with a hug. Nothing threatening about that. We've done that loads of times, right?"

"Right." She nodded and came forward to embrace him. As always, she laid her head against his chest. He was still warm from his shower and slightly damp, he smelled crisp and fresh.

Harry buried his face in the wild tendrils of her hair. He loved the soft springy texture. "Mmm. . .this is nice."

"Mmm," she murmured in agreement, wrapping her arms around him more tightly. "I can hear your heart beating." She could feel it under her cheek, beating in a staccato rhythm.

Harry pulled back from her slightly and removed his hands from her waist. "Look at me," Harry demanded, sliding a finger under chin and tipping her face up. "Do you know how beautiful you are? How special?"

"Harry," she protested, ducking her head.

His hands slid into her hair, and brought her head up once more. "You are and you don't even know it, but I intend to show you." He briefly rested his forehead against hers, his eyes shutting and when Harry's mouth sought hers, he unerringly found it. Her lips were ineffably sweet and pliable. Unbidden, desire for her rose within, like some ravening beast. Her mouth was filled with liquid heat and he would eventually be scorched. Not that he cared. After just one taste, Harry was ensnared, he wanted all of her. One small taste would never be enough.

Hermione was in a state of confusion. Until this afternoon, she never knew kisses could be so stimulating. Never knew she could be caught up in the desires of her body. And here she was, kissing her best friend and experiencing those same feelings. While Harry lacked the polished grace of Malfoy's kisses, he made it up for it in sheer hunger. His mouth was forceful, his kisses impassioned and Hermione was nearly mindless with need by the time he was through. She felt as though she were on a speeding train. . .only she didn't want to get off. . .she wanted to go faster.

Finally, Harry pried his mouth away from hers and released her. They braced their arms against the bed , lest they fall while their breaths came in hot, harsh pants. When she could speak again, she didn't recognize her own voice, it was raspy and breathless. "H-Harry, that was-"

"I know." His voice was gravelly too and his eyes were still hot. "I should probably go."

"I know," she echoed.

Harry stiffly walked from the room, his heart thundering in his chest and mind full of possibilities.

Hermione slid into her bed in a boneless heap.