"Granger, for Merlin's sake, hurry up!"

"Sod off, Malfoy!"

He banged on the door again, growing more and more frustrated. They were already late again. It was becoming a habit for her to be late like this, and he was sure she did it on purpose.

"Granger! Breakfast started fifteen minutes ago!" He could hear her frustrated sigh and rolled his eyes. It was her fault they were late in the first place. The door flew open and he took an instinctive step back.

"Then just go without me," she snapped. Her hair was still damp and she held a towel around her torso. He only stared for a second and her cheeks slowly began to color. He cleared his throat as casually as he could and glanced away.

"You just got out of the shower? What in the world takes you so long?" he grumbled. She rolled her eyes.

"If you're going to complain, just leave," she replied. There was no fight in her voice. "Don't get yourself into a snit on my account." She slammed the door in his face.

"Oh no, I'm not walking in late alone. No way, Granger. This is your fault."

She laughed and he resisted the urge to throw the door open. He could hear her moving around.

"Afraid to be the center of attention, Malfoy? Are you ill? It's very unlike you." She laughed.

"Very funny, Granger. But it's easier to blame you when you're there."

"Well, you didn't have to wait."

He stood, dumb, for a moment. Slowly, his eyes narrowed and his expression darkened. That witch… It was her fault! Her fault! She was the reason for every one of his misfortunes. Every single one! His blood boiled and his fists clenched at his sides. His jaw shifted back and forth and ground his teeth together. The unconscious torture she put him through, her attitude toward everything about him, even her humanity and unintentional kindness was like punishment to him. His mind flew back to that night in the dormitory, pulling up the picture of her as she leaned against his door, aloof, and asking what was bothering him. He shook his head. He was tired of it, tired of her games, tired of waiting. He grabbed the door and jerked it open.

She yelped and jumped back, away from the door. Her shirt hung open off her body, exposing her stomach and her pale pink bra. Her cheeks darkened and her hands flew to wrap her shirt around herself.

"Malfoy, that the hell are you doing?! Get out!" she shrieked.

He ignored her, pressing her against the wall and grabbing her wrists. She squeaked when he pressed his thigh between hers.

"Stop it, Malfoy."

He leaned his head down beside her ear, his breath brushing across her cheek. He could see her turn her head just a bit, enough to see him in the corner of her fear-filled eye.

"I'm tired of waiting, Hermione."

He saw her eyes widen slightly and covered her lips with his. She struggled, trying to free her wrists, or even run away. But he held her fast, trying, gently, to earn a reaction. She gave him none. He let go of one of her arms and slid his hand under her shirt, fingers leaving trails of heat over her skin. She desperately tried to push him off by his shoulder, but she may as well have been trying to move the wall. She turned her head in an attempt to deter him, but his lips attached to the underside of her jaw.

"Malfoy, stop it. Let go." Her voice wavered and her breath was shaky. He smirked, raising his head.

"You don't mean that, Hermione," he purred, letting her other arm go and turning her face toward his. She opened her mouth to reply and he captured her lips again. His tongue snuck between her lips and his hand slid up her back. He could hear the sharp intake of her breath as her body arched against his. He brought his other hand to her stomach, sliding it up to the edge of her bra. He bit her lip lightly and her hands gripped his shoulders. But she didn't push him away. Nor did she pull him close. He let his hand brush over her breast, over her bra and she gasped against his lips. His tongue dove in again, brushing hers lightly as he ghosted his hand over her chest again.

"Please…" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"'Please' what, Hermione?"

"Draco…"

Something snapped. His name on her swollen lips, his hands on her skin. He hurriedly ripped her shirt off and slipped his hand under her bra. He attacked her neck savagely and she gasped, burying her hands in his hair. His fingers worked expertly on her breast, making her squirm as he tried to undo the garment in his way. As soon as her bra fell from her body, he lifted her off the ground and took her nipple his mouth. Her head fell back and she hooked one leg over his hip.

"Oh, Merlin, Draco…"

He sucked hard and she moaned. He could tell that soon he wouldn't stop, even if the castle was falling down around them. She was so soft, so sensitive to every touch. He sucked greedily and she whimpered helplessly as his hand slid from her breast down her stomach to the top of her skirt. He traced her hip lightly before he pushed her skirt up to her waist. She tugged his hair lightly and he looked up at her through lust-darkened eyes.

"Draco, stop. Please. It's too far already." She was shaking and he could feel the light strain on his arms to hold her up.

"Why?" he growled, grip tightening instinctively. Her chest rose and fell dramatically, inches below his face.

"Why keep going?" Her voice cracked a bit as his breath brushed across her skin. "This doesn't mean anything."

"So?"

She pushed his away, barely a few inches; just enough to let her slide back to the ground. He pushed her back into the wall again, but she kept her arms between them.

"You're sexually frustrated and taking it out on me." Her casual, calculated explanation shocked him for a second. "You hate me, Malfoy. You don't care." There… No more "Draco". They were back to impersonal last names. She wasn't going to just get away. No, he'd sampled what he wanted, and now he wanted to take it, all of it.

"What makes you so positive I'll stop just because you say so, Granger?" He looked down at her, almost threateningly. She floundered for a moment.

"B-Because…" Fear slipped into her voice.

"'Because', Granger?" He slipped one arm around her waist, his other supporting him with his forearm on the wall. He could see that, with each second, realization was dawning on her, realization that this was out of her control.

"B-Be-Because… No!" Her fist struck his jaw and once again he realized how hard she could actually hit. She ducked under his arm and bolted, slamming her door behind her. He heard the deadbolt click. He pounded on the door, anger rising.

"Granger!"

She didn't answer and his anger turned into fury.

"Granger, I will blow this door to pieces!"

"Try!"

His blood boiled and he drew his wand from his robes. He pointed it at her door.

"Flipendo!"

The door didn't budge and he was thrown back. He hit the floor with a thud. Damn her, she would have wards on her door. He struck the tiles angrily and scrambled to his feet. Damn her. He had been so close, so close to what he wanted, what he had been waiting for. He swore up and down, stalking out of the bathroom and out of the Heads' dormitory. His footfalls were heavy through the empty corridors, his frustration palpable as he stomped toward the Great Hall.