All the thanks to my beta and friend, SaintDionysus. Enjoy!

God, he was a bad idea. The worst she'd had in her seventeen years on Earth, in fact. But Sweet Morgana who gave a shit? He bit down on her neck, and she keened embarrassingly from the unexpected pressure.

She liked that he didn't talk. He was so much more attractive when he didn't talk. People always assumed that Hermione Granger, first in her class, Brightest blah, blah, blah (insert handjob gesture) would want sweet nothings spoken into her ear, slow rhythms, and considerate, sensitive lovers who loved to cuddle.

Nuh uh.

She wanted sex. Hard, sweaty, blistering sex that would render her bowlegged and a little scared to pee for hours after. And Draco Malfoy was always happy to deliver.

His hands on her breast felt divine, his body was so hard against her, and…

Why was he stopping?

"Um…Granger?"

She rolled her eyes. "What?"

"I just…" He backed away a little, baffling Hermione.

Ever since he had started sleeping with Hermione Granger, he had lost his ability to form complete sentences. There was a time he had never struggled to say what was on his mind. But this witch, who had always scared him just a little, had a way of disabling his brain. Every time she walked into the room, his mind would go fuzzy, and his cock would stand to attention, as if pulling his brain aside to say I'll take it from here, buddy.

From the moment he had learned that rubbing his penis felt good, he had indulged in the occasional wank fest starring the girl currently sneering at him. That said, he had never seriously considered the possibility that shagging her would actually be an option for him. These secret fantasies were so far removed from the reality of his sex life, he allowed himself to indulge in the very deepest, most vile imaginings of what he would do to her.

In these fantasies, he had been confident, authoritative, and powerful. But now that he appeared to be inexplicably shagging her on the reg, he had been reduced to a panting, needy, brainless little fuck-servant, which she oddly seemed to prefer. He fucked her hard because he didn't know how not to, but he had a feeling if he tried fucking her slow, she'd curse him down to his grandchildren.

Whatever. He could be a fuck-servant.

"I…"

"Spit it out, Malfoy."

Honestly, she still scared him a little.

When he went back over how in the hell on earth he had gotten so lucky to be Hermione Granger's ever-willing fuck-slave, the details weren't completely clear to him. He still didn't quite believe it.

The two of them had been partners for an Arithmancy project. Not exactly the sexiest scenario, but it at least put them in each other's orbit. The project went smoothly enough at first. They both knew the material and worked surprisingly well together. Neither of them gave the other much thought, apart from Draco's masturbatory fantasies, which he barely counted, since it was only every now and then, and he seemed to have no control over the things he thought about mid-wank (he had accidentally wanked off once while thinking about a pillow with an oddly-placed button, if that's any context for the indiscriminate inspirations for his orgasms). But one day, she showed up huffing and puffing and barking orders at him. He assumed she had a fight with Weasel or Potter, but he couldn't care less. Nobody fucking spoke to him like that.

They were at each other's throats for an hour or so in the library before Madam Pince kicked them out. He had stormed out of the library, eager to put as much distance between himself and that conceited little swot as possible. But she fucking caught up to him and started yapping in his ear about how he needed to learn to "take suggestions" and how his "toxic masculinity made him feel threatened by the intellect of a woman." Oh, that was fucking rich. As if she hadn't started it with her snippy, bitchy tone. She was the one who needed to learn that the world didn't revolve around her and her overrated brain, and just because she could order around Dickless and Shit-for-Brains, she had another thing coming if she thought he was just going to lie down and take her shit. And he told her as much.

From there, he must have blacked out as the fight escalated because the next thing he knew, she was riding his cock in an abandoned classroom and her tits were bouncing in his face. His mind was racing with thoughts such as "I am INSIDE goddamn Hermione Granger!" and "Those are Hermione Granger's TITS!" and "I am FUCKING Hermione Granger!" as well as a litany of related such thoughts until he came in just under five minutes. He was pretty sure he even shouted I'm sorry as he came, gripping her hips tightly so she couldn't move until his balls were good and empty.

She hadn't seemed that perturbed by his shameful early exit, as she got herself off with him still inside her. He could hardly believe she would do such a thing with him watching. Those quill-clutching, book-hugging fingers danced beautifully across her swollen little clit until she clenched around him and sighed in relief. She promptly stood up, got dressed, and left the room, leaving Draco naked and bewildered on the floor.

He doubted she'd ever speak to him again after that. But the next day, she showed up at the library as if nothing had happened, and they had worked once again in relative peace. When she said she needed to stretch her legs for a bit and go for a walk if he wanted to join her, he instantly shot out of his seat and followed her to yet another empty classroom where he managed to redeem himself by lasting until she had come first.

They had never spoken about it. It was just a sort of agreement between the two of them that shagging was something they did together now. And Draco most certainly was not the one in control, which he didn't mind.

Most of the time.

Today, he couldn't explain it, but it finally seemed to dawn on him that: (1) He had actually been screwing the stuffing out of Hermione Granger for the past few weeks; and (2) His brain didn't have to be a passive participant.

"Okay, don't take this the wrong way, but I…need more."

Her mouth was set in a thin line. "More?"

"Yeah, you know...?" What the fuck is wrong with you, you witless twat? You're going to mess this up for yourself. He cleared his throat. "I never even thought you'd spit on me if I were on fire—"

"I probably wouldn't."

"—much less that you'd let me do…all of…the stuff with you."

"The stuff?" She scoffed. He was boring her. "Okay."

He cleared his throat. "So, despite all that, I admit I did indulge in the odd fantasy, and…well…in my fantasies…I pictured us doing things a little more…" Filthy. Depraved. Borderline criminal. "…interesting than just a fuck against the wall in a dusty old broom cupboard."

She scoffed. "So, am I to understand that you're bored?"

"No, no, no! Things are great. You're great. I'm very much enjoying…this,and I encourage you to let me keep doing it."

"So, what's the problem? Do you require candlelight and a canopy bed? A little Nat King Cole and some scented oils?"

She's pissed. You are seconds away from an exclusive relationship with your right hand. Wrap it the fuck up! "No. But I was thinking we could…" He scratched the back of his neck. "Never mind. Forget I said anything. Let's just bang." He leaned into her to kiss her again, but she stopped him with a hand on his lips.

"You want something you're not getting from me. What is it?" It was only fair for him to get it. After all, he always gave her exactly what she wanted and had never until now given her the impression that it wasn't enough. She had always just assumed he didn't care as long as he got to come.

"Well…" He looked so embarrassed. "I guess I always had this fantasy…never mind. It's stupid. I don't even want it anymore." He leaned in, and she stopped him with the same hand on his lips.

"Finish your thought."

Was it just her, or did his eyes change colors when she used that tone on him? His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he licked his lips.

"Well…I've always been curious about…role-playing."

"Role-playing?"

"Yeah." He put a few inches of distance between the two of them, his cheeks reddening. He obviously expected her to laugh or immediately turn him down.

"Go on."

He took a deep breath. "I've always wondered what it would be like to do the whole student/teacher thing with you."

Huh. Well, cut a lightning bolt in her forehead and call her 'Harry Potter,' because she did not see that coming. "With me?"

"Yeah, I don't know. I guess it's because you kind of smell like books. You're always in the library. And don't even get me started on the way you answer questions in class—"

"Yeah, alright. I get it. I'm a swot. But define 'always.'"

"What?"

"You said you've 'always' wondered. How long is 'always'?"

He shrugged. "Probably about fifth year."

This guy was just revelation after revelation. And to think she just thought he was a cock with legs. "That's very interesting."

He rolled his eyes. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Well, now I'm curious." She pulled him by his shirt collar. "What exactly would Mr Malfoy be willing to do to get his grades up?" She started to kiss his jaw.

He shuddered. "Interesting thought, but actually, I've always imagined myself as the teacher."

She paused. He just never seemed to stop with the surprises. "So, in this scenario...I'm the horny, underachieving student?"

He shrugged. "You can play it however you want. Your body, your choice and all that. So, does this mean you want to do it?" He was trying, and failing, to hide his glee.

She pondered it for a moment. It had never occurred to her to merge her love of education with her sex life. Doing this could potentially open up many possibilities. She had always considered herself very in tune with her sexuality, but she was still so young. Perhaps she had not even scratched the surface of it.

The worst that could happen was that she wouldn't like it. And Malfoy was so eager. She could probably turn the scenario around and remind him who was in charge. "Let's do it."

And with the utterance of the three most perfect words that had ever been said in human history, his hard-on returned with a vengeance. It is time, my friend. Our hour has come.

He leaned back and looked her up and down. "Leave the uniform on. For now."

He straightened his posture and summoned all the lessons he had ever had in Occlumency to gain control of his lust, lest this game be over too quickly. He silently transformed a nearby mop bucket into a teacher's desk, giving himself a mental high-five for doing so without breaking eye contact with her.

She smirked at his sudden change in demeanor. "As you wish. Professor Malfoy."

He groaned as he felt his control slip away. Fucking hell this is going to be so fucking hot. He cleared his throat. "Miss Granger, are you aware that you failed your last assignment in my class?"

A flicker of fear shot up her spine before she remembered that this wasn't real. Oddly, the fear was kind of working for her. It was partly why she liked her sex rough; a certain element of danger never failed to get her wet. "That doesn't sound like me, Professor Malfoy. Are you sure you didn't mix me up with another student?" She hoped the pout in her voice was somewhat attractive—because she felt ridiculous. Coy and passive was not her sexual forte.

"Oh, I could never confuse you with anyone else, Miss Granger." He leaned in and whispered in her ear, "You've always been my favorite student."

Well, damn. This was…interesting.

He ran a hand down her arm and landed on her waist, rubbing small circles there. "I know you can do better, Miss Granger. Perhaps we can arrange some extra credit."

"Yes." She wasn't even acting anymore. She just wanted the game to be over so he would fuck her in this imperious, slick, authority-figure persona he'd adopted. "Yes. Whatever it takes."

He hummed in approval and leaned in to kiss her neck. "You're such a bad girl, aren't you Miss Granger?"

"So bad."

"You're a naughty little girl, who's failing my class."

Uh…okay. So, Malfoy was a really good actor because those words cut straight through her gut.

She hadn't considered this part of the game. But, she supposed if fear was the game she was after, nothing put the fear of Merlin into her quite so much as the prospect of failing a class.

He sucked on the spot just below her ear. "I knew you weren't as clever as everyone always said. You're just a simple little school girl, aren't you?"

She bit her lip, wondering if it was too late to call the game off. There was such a thing as too much danger. But Draco seemed too preoccupied with feasting on her exposed flesh to notice the change in her body posture.

"Don't worry, Miss Granger. I'll take care of you." He licked a line up her neck. "No one ever needs to know that you're just like everybody else. Just a naughty little girl, too silly for her schoolwork."

The delicate line between Sexy Danger and Never Danger broke, and she choked out a sob.

Is she…crying?

"Granger? Oh, fuck, what did I do?"

"Nothing." She turned her head to wipe her eyes. "I'm fine."

"Oh, fuck, Granger. We don't have to do this. I'm sorry. I didn't know it would—"

"Shut. Up. I'm fine. Don't treat me like…" She sighed. "...like a stupid 'little school girl.' I knew what I was doing."

He blushed. "Granger, I didn't mean—"

Though her face was hidden, her shaking body and occasional sob made it abundantly clear that she was crying.

"Um…" Draco licked his lips, completely unsure of how to proceed. Other than stopping, what was the protocol when a girl you were shagging started crying in the middle of foreplay? He patted her shoulder.

She smacked his hand away. "Don't you dare try to comfort me."

"I…" His eyes widened madly. This whole situation was new to him. "I don't know what I did."

With one final sigh, she turned around to face him. "You didn't do anything I didn't consent to. It's not your fault. I just…I didn't know what my limits were."

"And your limits are…role-play?"

"My limits are pretending to be stupid."

"Oh." He looked guiltily at the ground.

"I do realize that guys like stupid girls. I know that. So, I can't really begrudge you your fantasy."

"I don't like stupid girls."

"Sure, you don't like to fuck stupid girls because they're boring. But you'd rather date a stupid girl than a smart one."

He rolled his eyes. "Right. Because you know so much about me. Because you always ask me questions about myself right before you jump on my cock."

"Look, I don't know what's wrong with me, okay? I'm sorry I ruined your perfect little fantasy because I couldn't stand the thought of failing a class."

"You didn't…ugggh. This is exactly why I was hesitant to share my fantasy with you. I should have just kept my mouth shut and let you have your way with me."

She sniffled. "No, no, seriously. It's fine. I'm not trying to shame you or anything. And if you have certain needs, you should voice them. It was wrong of me to make you think you couldn't." She wiped her eyes and began to regain her composure. "Obviously this wasn't part of your fantasy."

He chuckled. "Not exactly."

"What are we doing?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Maybe we shouldn't be doing it then." The moment she said the words, she regretted them.

"Is…that what you want?"

No. I like shagging you. "We're not good for each other. All we do is fight or fail at giving the other what they need sexually."

He grimaced. "Is that it, then? I didn't give you what you wanted?"

No. You were perfect. "I need someone less opinionated. Preferably, someone, I have less history with. That probably complicates things between us, don't you think?"

He shrugged. "I guess."

"Good. Then it's decided. We're done here." She straightened her clothes, resolving not to look at Malfoy's face while she did so, lest she change her mind. "Pleasure doing…pleasure with you." She then promptly exited the broom cupboard and shut the door behind her.

As she walked to her dorm room, she couldn't help but feel like she was about to start crying again.

Draco gaped at the closed door.

He inhaled deeply. "THIS IS WHY YOU KEEP YOUR FUCKING MOUTH SHUT YOU TOTAL WANKER!" He punched the wall, and immediately regretted it.

"Fuck!" He cradled his sprained hand, trying to convince himself that his newfound desire to cry was because of the pain in his hand.

The next morning, Hermione arrived in the library early with her Arithmancy homework spread neatly before her. Logically, she understood that she and Draco were still study partners.

But he might not know that.

To her surprise, he appeared minutes later and quietly joined her at their table, sporting a cast on his hand. Had that been there yesterday? "Good morning."

"Morning."

They worked in silence for roughly five minutes until Hermione crossed her legs, bumping into his knee as she did so.

"Sorry!"

"Don't be."

He tapped his quill on his book, a habit that usually didn't bother her, but today for some reason, it seemed to highlight the cloying tension still between them. "Could you not?"

"Not what?"

"Tap your quill. It's annoying."

"Sorry about that." He set his quill on the desk. "See how easy that was? Asking me not to do something and then I just stopped."

Oh fuck, she knew where this was going. "Excuse me?"

"I just mean I'm respectful like that. I'll do whatever makes you more comfortable. No need to cause a scene about it."

Okay. So, they were doing this. "So, suddenly me crying because I'm discovering that what we were doing was a trigger for me, is me 'causing a scene?'"

He clamped his eyes shut and leaned back in his chair. His eyes remained closed while he spoke. "I wasn't referring to the crying."

"Oh, I'm sure you weren't. I'm sure that the whole time I was crying you weren't silently throwing your boner a sad little funeral and just wishing that I would shut up and let you shag me already."

His eyes flew open. "Are you fucking…" He chuckled darkly. "Oh, you are delusional, sweetheart if you think what we did was ever about me."

"Meaning?"

"You are the quintessential selfish lover. You never gave a toss what I wanted, which was honestly just fine with me until I went and got comfortable enough with you to actually say what I wanted for once. And then you fucking threw it in my face and made me feel like shit. And then, as if that wasn't enough, you broke up with me!"

He might have made some good points, but Hermione could only focus on four of the words in his speech. Broke up with me.

Broke up. She broke up with him?

How could she break up with him if they weren't really together? "But you and I weren't…I mean it was just a bit of fun."

"Yeah. It was." He sighed, biting his lip behind a grin. "A lot of fun, actually."

"Yeah."

"I guess it just…" He sighed. "Nothing makes a bloke feel like he's someone's boyfriend more than having a girl he's shagging cry in front of him."

She could feel herself blush. "I'm sorry I did that to you. I didn't mean to react that way, and I'm sure it must have been awkward."

"Well…it was…I mean, I wouldn't say awkward—"

"Scary, then."

"Scary, yes. It was scary as hell."

She giggled, not noticing the fond look on his face as she did so. "I think I overreacted, didn't I?"

"It's not like you were trying to cry."

"Not that. The…other thing." When I 'broke up with you.'

"You mean when you said that we didn't satisfy one another?"

"I believe the words I used were that we 'failed to give the other what they needed sexually.'"

"Do you really feel that way?"

She sighed. "No. You're…" She looked down at her book and blushed. "You're amazing."

"So are you."

She snorted. "Yeah. Sure. I'm the girl you fantasized about role-playing with, but in reality, I couldn't get through it without crying."

"Forget the bloody role-playing, Granger. You are…" He lowered his voice and leaned closer to her ear to whisper to her. "An epic fuck."

She bit her lip, still refusing to look up at him. "You know…" She dragged her eyes to his.

"Yesterday, I saw something in your face that made me wonder if you wouldn't actually prefer to play the student."

"Is that a fact?"

"Yeah." Her hand reached for his knee and caressed it under the table. "I think you like taking orders from me. Am I right about that, Draco?"

It was the first time she had ever used his given name, and it had the desired effect. Draco's breath hitched as he answered her. "It's possible."

"Hmmm." Her hand journeyed north towards his crotch; towards his center-of-the-universe, easily-her-choice-for-a-last-meal, cock, which was growing conspicuously inside his trousers.

"You see, you used to think that you were the big dog on campus." Her fingers found his fly and dragged it down as she spoke. "Ordering all your housemates about, strutting around the corridors with your bespoke robes and your old name." Her hand reached inside and stroked him. He looked like he was seconds away from swallowing his tongue. "But you're different now, aren't you?" She pulled and tugged as she spoke. "You like being put in your place?" She quickly put a Silencing Charm around them, because for once, she wanted him to talk.

He bit his lip. "Fuck, Granger." It was both the only sentence his brain could come up with, and an exact description of the singular current goal in his life.

"You want me to drag you to the Restricted Section and ride your face, don't you?"

His cock was diamond-hard under her hand. He sounded like he was drowning the way he gulped down little sips of breath. "Oh, God, please yes."

She stroked harder. "And I will. Right after I make you come inside your trousers.

He slapped the desk with his unmaimed hand.

"Do you like fucking me, Draco?"

"Yes! Merlin, yes."

"Do you like me?"

He hissed, trying desperately to regain his sense of reason so he could grasp the importance of what she just asked him.

"Answer me."

"Don't stop."

"I won't if you answer my question. And do it honestly."

He bit his lip. "Yeah, I like you." Fuck him, he did. He realized it after she left him horny and rejected in the broom cupboard yesterday. "I fucking like you, Granger."

Any man would have said the same with her perfect little hand wanking them off, but Draco really meant it. After returning from the hospital wing back to his dorm yesterday, he fell face first onto his bed and didn't move for the rest of the night. It wasn't just the loss of sex and the fact that he'd have to go back to hand-to-gland combat for the foreseeable future. It was the curve of her neck, the sunshine on her hair, and the brow wrinkle she'd get when solving particularly difficult Arithmancy problems. It was all the little things that added up to a glimmer of the girl he believed Hermione Granger to be; the girl he had hoped to get to know.

Maybe she still would.

"And I'll like you so much better if you go faster."

She smirked. "Don't tell me what to do."

Nevertheless, she increased her speed. And thirty seconds later, he came so hard, he was certain he had invented a new color.

Five minutes later, he was lying on his back in the most remote, dark part of the Restricted Section, with a topless Hermione Granger straddled across his mouth.

She made needy, damp sounds that he gauged to be a marriage between a pant and a sigh. Every time she managed to say his given name inside those hot, little sounds, he'd dip his tongue inside her.

"Unggh. Yes. Um…ahhh. Draco. Yes." Sigh. "Not like that…ahhhh! That's it!" She had never been this verbal during sex. Neither of them had. In fact, the past two conversations they'd had contained the most words they'd spoken to one another in the entire seven years they'd been acquainted.

Her hands were threading through her hair now, and she was bouncing on him with more force; sure signs that she was close. He couldn't stop staring at the lovely rose blush that spread across her neck, chest, and breasts. He wanted to lick every square inch of that blush to see if her skin really was as on fire as his.

"Fuck! Yesssssss!"

She came, and came, and came. He swiped his tongue on the underside of her clit, making her orgasm go on forever. She had to slap at his head to make him stop.

She collapsed in a melted heap next to him on the floor.

"Well," she said, panting. "That was fairly amazing."

"Yeah."

"Oh, um…" She brought the back of her hand to his chest, tapping him as though she had just remembered something. "I like you too, I think."

He laughed. "You think?"

"Well, I don't really know you, do I? We don't know each other."

"We could change that."

"Yeah. We should." She snuggled into him, still unable to hold a more complicated conversation than the one they just had. It was the first time they had ever cuddled.

It was nice.

"We don't have to label it yet. I'm just grateful you let me do this stuff to you."

She rolled her eyes and swiped at his chest again. "Prat."

"Accurate."

"I thought…you were just a fuckboy."

"That's fair."

"But you're not. I'm sorry I tried to use you."

He took her hand on his chest and kissed the palm. "I'm not."

The End