Anything that rings a bell belongs to JK Rowling. Chapter Title is a lyric from the Wombats (can you tell what I've been listening to all day?).

Chapter Two: Dirty Little Wicked Games

Hermione took a deep, indulgent breath, and then rapped on the door.

"Come in."

She did as the deep voice commanded, keeping her face passive despite disliking the room's occupants.

"Please sit down, Miss Granger."

She shot Malfoy an annoyed glare, but did as Professor Snape requested.

"Now, it is unfortunately my turn as Head of House to supervise prefects this year, which, you would think, would be the job of the Head prefects. For all your predecessors termly meetings were fine, merely to discuss logistics, but I find you two here more often than I find the headmaster in a chocolate frog."

"It's only because-"

"She's impossible to work-"

"- he never listens! Always-"

"- with, thinks she's always-"

The room fell into a silence and Hermione felt the odd sensation of being magically muted. She glared at Malfoy, knowing it was Snape that cast the spell but unable to direct her ire to him as he was a teacher.

"That's better. Now. This year is very important, not just for the school, but for the Wizarding World in general. You two represent not just Hogwarts, but Great Britain and Ireland, and most importantly, me. " He clasped his fingers, leaning back in his chair, "Now, we can't have you arguing in front of guests, we need a united front. So you will be attending Leadership training."

"Leadership training? I don't need that, I'm already a leader. I'm headboy."

"And master of the universe, clearly." Snape muttered sarcastically, unamused by this conversation, rifling through the neatly stacked third year potion essays on antidotes that he obviously rather be grading.

"What will this entail, Professor?" Hermione didn't hate the idea of leadership training, not that she thought she needed it, but she was always open to bettering herself.

"Fortnightly meetings, sometimes lectures by visiting Ministerial staff, exercises. Quite frankly, I didn't ask too much about it. Your constant arguing came up at a staff meeting, apparently prefect meetings take twice as long as they should these days. Some of the staff think new Heads should be picked." Hermione straightened in her chair, meeting his stern black gaze, putting her hands under her thighs so as to stop them from lunging at Malfoy. This was so unfair! Head Prefect was a massive opportunity and he was ruining this for her… she's never failed at anything. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought of being fired. "Professor Flitwick suggested the Leadership training. He had to utilize such a thing decades ago." Her pulse slowed, of course he did, she shouldn't panic, her head of house always had her back. "And since we're so closely working with the Ministry this year, it would be easy to liaise with them. And I know you're interested in working in the Ministry yourself, Draco, so this will be great for networking."

Malfoy seemed to be sucking on the inside of his bottom lip, but gave a curt nod. Her eyes narrowed, why did it feel like that was a lie. Wasn't he interested in working in the Minsitry? Hermione waited for Snape to ask her about what she wanted to do, but he of course didn't.

"I also plan on joining the Ministry, so I actually appreciate this offer, Professor Snape."

The potions master gave her a neutral stare, they didn't like each other much but had always managed being civil. "I thought you wanted to be a healer."

Hermione was surprised he knew this, she hadn't mentioned this to him, but a few other teachers knew as they were trying to get her a spot in the annual internship St Mungo's offered in spring. It was extremely competitive. She kept her face passive, "I like to have options."

"And in doing so filching the options of other students." Malfoy muttered and Hermione turned on him.

"What did you say?"

"Don't you think it's selfish to do all the internships this year just so you can decide what you want to do and not leave spots for anybody else?"

"Selfish. Coming from you? And I won't apologise for earning my place in opportunities that are open to everyone. Unlike some people who get titles despite not having a single accomplishment to their name."

He gaped at her, "I don't have an accomplishment to my name? I'm quidditch captain! What do you have going on outside of books? You're as one dimensional as a straight line!"

"Oh I'm wounded, insult me with geometry, why don't you. And don't talk about things you can't fly in."

Malfoy's mouth dropped open further, "Weasley hit me with a confundus charm in that match. Professor-"

"Oh not this again." Snape grumbled, looking at the ceiling for help. "If you two don't behave, I'm going to have to give your badges away."

Malfoy stopped talking, sulking at his favourite teacher, clearly expecting him to take his side.

"Sorry, professor Snape." Hermione stated softly, annoyed but also embarrassed. Malfoy really brought the worst out of her.

"Apologies." Mafloy mumbled, his right cheek in his fist as he sulked on the arm of the chair.

"Now if that's all-"

"Actually," The blonde sat up, "Is this leadership thing compulsory ? It's just that this year will be busier than usual."

"Well you'll have a lot more free time without quiditch training."

"Yes, but," He glanced at Hermione, "I might be busy with other things."

Hermione laughed unkindly as she understood his statement, "You think you're going to be Hogwarts champion."

"Oh and I suppose you think you're going to be it!"

"I wasn't actually going to put my name in. I hear if you take part you don't sit final exams." How absurd, what could be more important than getting your NEWTs? She noticed an almost relieved expression cross his face at her words, "Though," she stood up, understanding professor Snape's attention on his essays to be a dismissal, "Since I love to filch all the opportunities, maybe I will put my name in, afterall." She tossed her bag onto her shoulder, catching his glare in her periphery as she flounced out the door.

-x-x-x-

Draco felt close to hexing the infuriating girl, his hand tight around his wand as he rose to his feet as Granger sauntered out of the room, turning just to smile smugly at him and his navel jerked in response, almost like that look was the wandwork to some lust evoking charm.

Sweet Salazar, why did this keep happening! Everytime he and Granger would get into arguments recently he'd have the most confusing response in his nether region. It made no sense, she wasn't unattractive, he'd admit that, infuriating of course but not bad looking, but it really was no excuse for this. It was adolescent, and a tad creepy to be sexually attracted to conflict? Even when he was younger he had never been so controlled by his body. The thought crossed his mind that he was some sort of deviant and his jaw clenched in discomfort sprinked with shame.

He tried to make the the blood flee to other areas, and fell to his seat again, glad that his teacher was busy grumbling at the essay in front of him, pulling his robe over what was still an evident bulge. He needed to get out of here before Snape noticed. He shot to his feet.

"Recklessness is a trait best kept for Gryffindors." His professor muttered, putting down his quill and glancing up at him, and Draco dropped to his seat again, crossing his legs and then swearing at the action, feeling as if he almost popped a very inflated balloon, and Snape's bored expression grew perplexed, "Are you alright?"

Draco breathed through his nose, his eyes watering with pain, "Hmmm hmmm." Was all he could get out.

Snape sighed, "Look, I know she gets under your skin." Merlin, he didn't need to think about Granger being under him right now, "But, you need to watch yourself. I've told you, it wasn't easy convincing to get you Head Prefect. Sprout's not happy, she thought it ought to be Macmillan, and most of them agreed. The Headmaster himself chose you."

"Why? Father hates Dumbledore." Draco leaned back in his chair, this conversation helping his situation greatly.

His professor shrugged, "It would be easier to decipher the very nature of magic than figure out what goes on in our dear headmaster's mind. Anyway, all this to say, this leadership training might seem silly but it was my last card to pull to keep you as Head Prefect."

He nodded, now annoyed and sullen. This was all Granger's fault. She was so stubborn, it was impossible to work with her, she had to have everything her way.

Oh Merlin's balls. He pulled the robe over his crotch again, what was wrong with him? He was acting like some thirteen year old everytime he thought of her. He glanced at his watch, he could probably get down to his room before Ancient Runes, sort this situation out. He loathed masturbating… but it felt weird having sex with Pansy when Granger riled him up like this. He didn't really know why…

"Oh, do you know where your cousin is? Trelawney wrote to me that she skipped Divination this morning, and that's not like Daphne. I was going to follow up after lunch."

Draco frowned, his thoughts moving away from his carnal mind with speed at that information, "I was busy with the Durmstrangs all morning. I'll check in." He nodded at his teacher and swiftly left.

Daphne had been in a weird mood ever since the start of term. He didn't know what was going on with her. Everything he said seemed to annoy her.

They had, for the most part, always been nice to each other. Of course, they had the occasional fight. They were practically siblings, she was orphaned as a baby and his parents treated her like the daughter they never had.

Arguably, his father doted on Daphne more than he did his son, to Draco's infrequent jealousy. But as he got older, he understood why this was the case. He saw pictures of his aunt Aurora, Daphne's mother, and she was the replica of her. His father never spoke of his sister, but it was clear the affection he had for her.

Draco couldn't imagine his life without Daphne. When they were younger, she'd fallen sick with Xebonite infection and had to spend weeks in St Mungo's. He felt awful, because he was the one that let her climb that tree that had the toxic moss. His father had been furious for weeks after the incident, and Draco was sure it had been because of his negligence. He remembered how worried his parents were, and how scared he became in response.

Ever since then, he had the fear lurking just beneath the surface that Daphne would die early like her mother, and he'd be left heartbroken like his father.

But it was irrational. Daphne was a healthy young girl, and her mother didn't die of an illness. Arguably, his cousin was a bit too fit for her own good. Despite her delicate features, she was quite athletic, and had always made a good sparring companion for him, whatever the sport may be.

And then's there's all the male attention she got. Draco had gotten into an actual fist fight with Blaise when they were fourteen and he found out that she and him were 'make-out mates.' This of course had the opposite effect, and those two ended up dating all through fourth year but thankfully decided to call it quits by that summer.

Draco entered the common room and grabbed his broom, flying down the enchanted steps to her dormitory.

He knocked once, "Daph?"

He pushed the door open slowly, noticing that the other four posters were drawn and empty, except for hers, which was in the middle, right across from the entrance, "Daph?"

He walked over, slowly drawing the curtain.

She was asleep, but her face had a thin sheen of perspiration. He touched her forehead and he winced. She was burning up. She had a fever?

He conjured three small towels, and wet it, wrapping one on her forehead, and the other two on her wrists. He carried her easily in his arms, and his stomach dropped as he felt how hot she was…

He raced upstairs, making it to the hospital wing in minutes, "Madam Pomfrey!"

The matron bustled out of her office, spotted them quickly at the entrance and rushed over.

"I've tried waking her, but I couldn't. She missed her morning classes. I think she must have been like this from last night."

The matron nodded, directing him to a bed to lower her onto, "Good job with the wrists, Mr Malfoy." She bustled in the cabinet next to the bed, and Draco sunk into a seat, looking at the sleeping Daphne with concern.

"I read ideally one would use cooling paste to break a fever, the best I could do was the wet towels unfortunately."

He watched a palm size, metalic object as thin as a quill float out of Madam Pomfrey's front pocket and hover over Daphne. Draco had read about these, they were called recitators, and would take in vital signs of patients. He watched it glow orange, which meant her fever was high but not at a threat to her organs yet, she didn't need to be rushed to Mungo's.

He observed the Matron applying the cooling paste on the areas that her arteries were closest to the surface - her temples, her wrists, her neck.

Of course, he completely forgot about her neck! How stupid of him! He sucked on the inside of his bottom lip, trying to remain calm, it was just a fever.

"Poor darling." The matron muttered, brushing her hair off Daphne's forehead as the recitator finally glowed green.

Her temperature was back to normal.

"What do you think it is?" Draco wondered what could cause such a rapid fever, if she'd had the flu, she'd have come to the Matron earlier. And last night she was fine… though she did leave dinner early, and had gone straight to her room.

He should have checked in on her!

"Probably just an infection. It is mono season." The matron looked sympathetically at Draco, and he frowned, the kissing disease? He was pretty sure Daphne was single, but perhaps she was back to frenching people behind his back. "You can go back to classes, Mr Malfoy. She'll be okay."

He glanced to the door, he had double Ancient Runes with the Ravenclaws now, and he and Granger were neck and neck for house points. He had been keeping track from the start of the year, and he had a feeling she was too because she had been extra eager when raising her hand just in that class. She had slapped her boyfriend right in the face in the last lesson and Draco laughed so hard he knocked his ink bottle all over Theo's assignment. Granger had shot him her most artistic glare at that.

Merlin she knew how to glare.

He cleared his throat, shaking his head, and looking at his sick cousin, feeling like a sick cousin to even be thinking about such things right now.

"If it's alright, Madam Pomfrey, I'd like to stay."

She nodded, giving him a genuine smile. The matron was one of the few adults in the castle Draco thought actually liked him. He settled into the chair, taking out his textbook to catch up on the lesson he was missing and glanced at Daphne.

She has to be okay.

-x-x-x-

Daphne landed with a light thud on the cold grass which crunched beneath her feet. She was out of breath, but she felt better after the fly. She had woken up in the hospital wing, disoriented and with a throbbing headache. She didn't realise that she had fallen ill in her sleep, coming down with some infection. She had been feeling a bit under the weather the last few days, which probably explained why everybody seemed to be getting on her nerves recently.

Since she spent most of the day resting in the hospital wing, she felt quite stifled, and physically much better, so she snuck out for a fly while Draco was off doing prefect duty.

Daphne loved having the quidditch pitch to herself, she didn't have to put up with Blaise pretending not to care that she was faster than him, or Theodore's musings when she just wanted him to to keep for her.

"Oh! Hello!"

She groaned, was there no such thing as privacy in this massive castle! She bent to pick up her Numbus 2001 and felt a sudden piercing pain in her forehead.

"Are you alright?" She felt a hard chest at the back of her head as she straightened up, the broom falling from her grasp, and she nodded, blinking herself into focus.

"Headache. I'm fine." She let the stranger lead her to the bench in front of the Slytherin stands, and she sunk into a seat.

"Should I go get someone?" It was of course, Harry Potter.

"No!" She snapped, she technically wasn't meant to be flying, Madam Pomfrey only let her leave after she promised to rest the night in her dorm, and Draco will blow his cauldron if he found out. "Sorry, no." She said, in a calmer tone, the boy had cocked his left brow at her rather rude response to his help. "I'm fine."

He nodded, even though his face was still uncertain. She noticed a broom lying next to her own in the distance, he must have also come out for a fly.

She didn't like the anxious look on his face, so she grumbled to her feet, not in the mood to be fussed over, and then staggered back down.

"Here." He held out his water bottle, and she took it, gulping down the liquid, glad he wasn't crowding her. Actually, other than looking worried, he had accepted all her answers, and she was pleasantly surprised at the lack of pushback from him. "You're a pretty decent flier. You play?"

His innocent question had her hackles raised, but she didn't act on the reaction, choosing to focus on how pretty his eyes looked at night, "No. My house doesn't allow girls on the team."

"That's ridiculous. Why?"

"The official statement is no girls have tried out in the last two decades. But it's really because they're all a bunch of twats." It would seem the pain was making her loose tongued, but he was amused at her retort, what was becoming his trademark crooked grin gliding onto his face.

"I am getting that vibe. I used to wonder what it would be like if I went to this school, instead of Beauxbatons, but now I feel like I dodged a green one." She smiled, amused at the saying, wondering if it was something he picked up in France.

"That would be twice for you."

His grin broadened into a smile, and she just noticed how nice his teeth were. So straight and shiny. "I don't know how much dodging I did, seeing as I could barely walk."

"Yes, and I suppose we did settle on the fact that you drooled the Dark Lord to death yesterday."

He laughed quietly, settling into the seat next to her, she could feel his arms move at the motion, his white sneakers pointing towards her own, his right knee touching her left.

She rotated her neck, stretching it out, mostly to distract from this sudden awareness of him that seemed to flood her body, feeling the dim ache in her muscles now that she was at rest.

"May I?" She stopped, glancing to her side to find his hands gesturing at her neck. She swallowed, and then nodded, listening to the rustling of movement as he stood, stepping behind her and suddenly she let out a soft gasp when she felt his gentle fingers on the exact right spot. "I noticed you fly very close to your handle. Which is fine of course, gives you momentum, but it wears on the neck. Here." She took in a sharp intake of breath, arching her back when his fingers pushed into her flesh, as if he hit some button that turned her to jelly. She let out a sound that escaped from deep within her and she let her head fall back.

"You're really tight." He whispered the words, and it slithered into her ears, heating up her face. She knew he meant her muscles, but there was a definitive tease in his voice.

"You're pretty good with your fingers."

She felt his chuckle, more than heard it, his chest at the back of her head as he massaged her neck. She ought to be angry at him for being a jerk yesterday, but he had been sweet about helping her earlier… and now she could barely think straight. She let out another deep moan, and she swore she heard his breath hitch. She was glad he was stood behind her, because surely her nipples would be very visible through her shirt right now…

Or perhaps she wasn't glad. Perhaps she wanted him to see her like that… the effect his simple touch evoked on her body. How much she wished he'd slip his hands from around her neck down, and not stop until he felt all the places her body screamed for him right now.

After a few minutes, Harry's hand left her skin and every pore of her being rebelled at the act.

"Am I forgiven?"

She felt both as if she could fall asleep on this bench, or she could very well straddle him.

"I'll take your request up for consideration."

He laughed, and she tilted her head back, looking up at him as he smirked down at her. Something told her he knew exactly what he was doing.

She mirrored the look on his face as she spun around, leaning her hands on the bench beside her, sitting up straight, letting him know that she could play these dirty little wicked games too. His emeralds turned to green flame as they took her in, and his lips parted when they fell on her breasts. He licked his lips and she smiled, knowing he really wanted to lick other things.

She tilted her head up at him, her long hair cascading down her side, taking him in just as eagerly. She didn't noticing through the thick grey and blue Beaxbatons uniform yesterday, but Harry Potter was fit. He was on the skinny side upon first glance, but with this thin shirt she could see long, lean muscles.

He bit his bottom lip languidly, and sighed, clearing his throat and taking the seat next to her. She turned to him, unsure what his next move would be but ready for it.

"I am sorry about last night. I was being an idiot." The desire in his eyes blinked into sincerity, and she pondered at the change in direction of the conversation, "I was in a weird mood."

Daphne didn't respond immediately, focusing her energy on altering her course as well, it would seem he wanted to connect on a different level right now. She thought about his situation. He had been away from Britain for sixteen years, and last night he was at the place his dead parents once lived, once loved.

"It's okay. I was also in an odd mood. And I thought you were mocking me."

He frowned, "Yeah, I don't get why you thought that. I was just making an unfunny joke about grass."

She closed her eyes for a second, feeling like an idiot. He wasn't mocking her surname, he was making a stupid unrelated joke… he didn't even know her name!

"Ohhh… you're Greengrass! Daphne?" She nodded, not sure how he suddenly registered this, but enjoying that he did. "Daphne." He said her name again, almost like he was spelling it with his tongue. Her eyes fixed on his lips, which were smooth and thin. He clearly took care of them, no sign of tears, or bites. "I'm Harry."

She gave him a lazy look of confusion, he knows that she knew who he was, but she could tell that he was staring at her lips too, and she had the inkling that he wanted her to say his name, the way he had hers.

"Harry." She was surprised how smooth her voice sounded, despite feeling out of breath. She noticed his grin widened and she had the urge to say his name again, to pleasure him with her voice, but she didn't. She wanted him to hold his breath, waiting for her to say it once more… to become desperate for her lips and all the things she could do with them.

What odd thoughts she was having.

"Daph!" She straightened to attention, snapping to the voice at the entrance to the quidditch pitch and she grumbled to her feet as her cousin advanced on her, "What are you doing out in this cold!" His eyes widened, spotting the brooms on the floor, and then turning his steel gaze on Harry, "Did you take her out flying!"

"He didn't take me flying." She spat annoyed, and feeling as if she had whiplash from the turns this conversation was taking, "I can go flying by myself!"

"That's not what it looks like!" Draco glared at Harry, and she was surprised the latter returned his venom, they didn't know each other, did they?

"Why don't you do us both a favour, and fly away." Harry made a dismissive gesture and Daphne sighed, knowing that would set her cousin off.

"Flying away is a bit more your speed, than mine. Or is it more fleeing that you do?"

"What?" Harry snapped and Daphne suddenly felt all the tension come back to her neck and she stepped in between him and her cousin, "What are you talking about?"

She grabbed Draco before he could say anything else stupid, glancing at Harry briefly so he understood that this was goodnight, receiving a narrowed stare in return.

Daphne dragged her cousin towards the secret entrance to the Dungeons from the pitch, ignoring his prattling about Harry and his apparent arrogance. Draco finally lost steam when they were almost at their common room, his rant finally over.

"What were you doing with him?" Or perhaps not.

Daphne rolled her eyes, knowing it wasn't proper but barely tolerating it when Draco got this way.

"Daphne-"

"I just bumped into him. Calm. Down." She grumbled, muttering the password and pulling him into the thankfully empty common room. "And so what if I was doing something with him, it's none of your business. I don't ask you for a blow by blow update on your ever mercurial relationship with Pansy."

"But you weren't doing anything with him, were you Daphne?"

She rolled her eyes again.

"You really ought not to do that. Mother says it's common and unladylike."

She let out a low growl.

An actual growl! He was driving her mad.

"What has gotten into you lately. Hopefully not Potter." He added sternly.

"What's gotten into me? What's going on with you! Why do you care who I make out with?"

"You were making out with him!"

"I didn't say that! I just don't get why you're suddenly playing the possessive older brother skit! I thought you grew out of that!"

"Well perhaps because you don't seem to realise that that's what I am! I'm responsible for you Daph! If anything happens to you, father will have a go at me! And he definitely wouldn't like you being 'make-out mates' with Harry Potter."

She scoffed, sweet circe she only ever did that with Blaise for a few weeks, years ago but he never let her hear the end of it. "And who was it that wanted to introduce themselves to him yesterday!"

"I didn't want to. I just thought it would be tactful to do so. Find out what he has been up to all these years!"

"And why would it matter what he has been up to!"

Draco gawked, "Are you serious? Ever heard the saying keep your friends close, but your enemies closer."

"Harry's not our enemy."

He took a step back, astonished, "Merlin, we grew up in the same house didn't we? Morgana, you're so naive sometimes! "

She straightened up to her full height, getting into her stride for this argument, "I suppose I am. Especially when I trust anything that comes out of your mouth."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" His face had flushed pink in record speed.

"Sure Daph, you can try out for the team this year. I made special requests for it." She mocked in his voice.

Draco sighed, exasperated, "Merlin's saggy scrotum, this isn't about stupid quidditch tryouts again."

"This is about you lying to me! You said you didn't know about the Tournament this year, that you were just as surprised as I was at the start of term, and you had no idea that quidditch was being cancelled but Blaise said at dinner last week he should have known something was up when you didn't annoy him this summer about joining the team."

Draco's mouth opened, and then shut, clearly caught in the lie.

"So you knew that there would be no quidditch this year. And you lied to me!" She understood how immature this sounded, but it wasn't just about her playing quidditch, it was about how he constantly treated her.

"I didn't lie, Daph. If there were tryouts, I'd have let you have a go. I'd have stuck to my word."

"Your word is worthless!" She spat, knowing in her gut he only made that promise because he knew he'd get his way, like he always did, and she hated that she felt like he didn't have her back when she always had his.

Draco swallowed, his nostrils flared but his shoulders dipping at her statement that knocked the fight straight out of him. She spun around on the spot and fled to her dorm, not wanting to look at his wounded face, wanting to be furious at her cousin and her uncle and all these men that just played her like a chess piece.

She changed into her pyjamas in angry, jerky movements, breathing so heavy Millicent tossed her an annoyed glare at waking her up. Daphne climbed into her four poster, sinking into the soft sheets as she fumed up at the green canvas, placing a silencing charm on her bed so as to not disturb her roommates further.

She hated fighting with Draco, but this had been bubbling up for weeks. A small voice in the back of her head whispered that she knew precisely what she was doing by pushing her cousin away… accusing him of lying when she was doing the exact same thing to him. Arguably… worse.

She took a shuddering breath, she can't think about that. Not now. She swallowed, and focused her energy on remembering how it felt an hour ago to have Harry's hands on her neck.

She closed her eyes and focused on that memory, letting her mind relax, and then suddenly…her imagination got away from her, fantasizing what would have happened if they weren't interrupted.

She traced her own fingers down her neck, touching the spot that he had massaged at the back, remembering how her name sounded on his lips, imagining what it must feel like to swallow his voice with a kiss. She remembered how desperately she wanted him to float his hands down her neck, to explore her body… so she did just that.

She tentatively touched her left breast, enjoying how soft the skin was at the outtermost curve.

Daphne had never touched herself before. She had fleeting relationships in the past, overeager boys who pawed at her, barely taking the time to learn what she liked. What did she like?

Her fingers tweaked at her nipple, and she felt the response at her core, and her thighs found each other automatically, wanting to stifle the yearn this motion illicited. She liked this. She tugged at the taut structure, surprised at how erect it was, remembering how Harry had taken them in earlier, stared at them, licked his lips.

She moistened her finger, and fluttered back down, imagining that it was his lips that latched onto her, and she arched her back, almost as if he really was there with her. She tugged at her nipples gently, and she let out a gasp, flicking them back and forth, arching into her own touch, learning how to play herself like a musician would a violin.

She slipped her one hand down her ribs, pleased with the contradiction of the hardness of the bone against the soft padding of her fingers. She bit her lip, suddenly shy, crossing some invisible boundary when her hands made it down to her panty. She didn't have any girlfriends, but she knew enough to know that girls didn't pleasure themselves… or perhaps they did, but they never spoke of it.

It seemed crazy to Daphne right now that other people had touched places on her body that she had never been privvy to. She slid her panty down, and spread her slightly trembling legs, almost laughing at the idea that she was nervous. Of who? Herself? She alone owned this body, controlled it.

She dipped a finger into herself and let out a soft exclamation, overwhelmed with sensation, feeling herself both from within and without. Her wetness, her heat, her soft moans. She played with the digit, coaxing it as if to say 'come here' and then biting her bottom lip hard… she really liked that. She repeated the action, her free hand balling in her bed sheet, as she inserted another finger, met with slight resitance but she was well oiled right now and it slid in.

"Oh." Her eyes widened at her touch, and she moved her hand energetically, adjusting her hips to find an angle that would give her what she sought and when she found it she froze in place, closing her eyes and tossing her head back as she focused on the memory of Harry's fingers on her skin, the slip of pink that was his tongue wetting his smooth lips, his crooked grin, his bottle green eyes. The way her name sounded on his mouth. All of it. All of him.

She could feel pleasure building up in her, and she imagined how it would feel to have him here right now, what would he do to her? What would she do to him?

"You're really tight."

She felt her eyes roll up, eyelashes fluttering as she was overcome with her orgasm, gasping for air.

She knew two things before sleep claimed her that night.

She was going to prove her cousin wrong, if that's the last thing she did. She wasn't some weak girl that needed his protection.

And, she was most definitely going to get Harry Potter into her soon.

A/N: That was a bit steamy - hopefully that's okay! I know it was a bit all over the place in terms of them having soul sharing conversations, but then spicy bits, and then arguing, and the next thing she's pleasuring herself, but that's honestly where the story led me as I was writing it and I decided not to change it. Daphne is clearly moody right now, so I thought this up and down way was fine - hopefully the flow is fine!

I always wondered whether people preferred weekly updates, or preferred writers to just post if they had something ready sooner? I had a day off so decided to do a double update, but can go to sticking with weekly ones if people say they massively prefer that.

Anyway - feedback as always is much appreciated!