Roses are red

Violets are blue

I do not own Harry Potter

This is sad, but true

Written for Scenario Sundays on Dramione Fanfiction Writers on Facebook.

Scenario: shower sex

Enjoy!

Having shared living quarters with the Golden Girl of Gryffindor for three months now, Draco Malfoy was beginning to understand her daily habits. In December, when the mornings were icy and unforgiving on bare skin, the Head Girl would skip on tip-toes from her bedroom to their shared bathroom. Her hair would be in disarray from her night of tossing and turning and she would tug at the hem of her night shirt to preserve her modesty. She had obviously not realised that this action pulled the material taut, making the curves of her body more prominent…but Draco had.

He had never thought much of Hermione Granger until this year. Of course, he had spent most of his childhood believing her to be so beneath him it really wasn't worth his time to think of her. If he should be forced to interact with her, it was only to remind her of her place; no where near him.

The war had changed that. Becoming Head Boy and being forced to share living quarters had changed it further. And now he found himself setting his alarm half an hour earlier so that he could brew himself a pot of tea and find a prime position to watch her morning ritual. It was obvious to everyone but him that he had become attracted to the brilliant witch.

Okay, maybe it was a little bit obvious to him. But they didn't understand; they didn't have parents who expected him to settle down with one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight; someone like Pansy Parkinson or one of the Greengrass sisters; women who would allow the pure blood line of the Malfoy family to continue unmarred. If he should bring the likes of Granger home for tea, he might as well sign his parents' death certificates at the same time.

He had considered the possibility of pursuing Granger in a casual context. Surely a shag here and there wouldn't matter, would it? His father had definitely kept impure mistresses throughout his tumultuous relationship with Draco's mother…would he frown upon his son doing the same?

Draco was ashamed almost the second this thought blossomed in his mind. Hermione Granger wasn't a mistress. She was the wife; and one you wouldn't dare think of cheating on. There would be no way she would agree to be his dirty little secret.

So, he distanced himself from her. Once, they had spent time studying together in their common room. They had begun to converse on topics outside of their school subjects, and Draco had enjoyed their heated debates. Now, he retired to his bedroom to complete homework, and ensured he had left the common room before she finished her shower in the morning, only returning once she had gone to bed at night. Should he find himself in her company, he quickly removed himself.

Hermione, being the astute witch she was, noticed his change in behaviour almost immediately. She wondered if it was something she had said; they often argued quite heatedly when they got on to a topic of contention, but she had also thought that they had reached a point of respect in their pseudo-friendship, and that 'agree to disagree' was silently implied.

She was scared to confront the issue in her own mind; the fact that disappointment had settled in her gut like one of Hagrid's rock cakes concerned her. Why did she care whether Malfoy was talking to her or not? While they had certainly become cordial towards one another, she wouldn't call them friends, exactly.

Is that it? She thought groggily one morning. Do I want to be friends with Draco Malfoy?

Hermione was still half asleep as she made her way from her bedroom to the bathroom. Reflecting on this thought, she was deaf to the sound of the shower already running. She pushed against the door and the hissing of the water hitting the stone ground brought her back to her senses.

"Granger?" Malfoy's shocked face appeared from behind the shower curtain, which did little to shield her from his naked silhouette. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of him, his hair soaked and slicked back from his face, droplets of water cascading down from his temples, over his cheeks, dripping from his chin…

"I'm so sorry!" Hermione finally managed to squeak. She staggered back towards the door, hoping that her face was not as red as it felt. With her eyes firmly shut, she found the exit from the bathroom and hastily made her way backwards over the threshold.

His amused chuckle haunted her for the rest of the day.

It took several weeks for Hermione to be able to enter a room with Draco in it without her cheeks burning like the sun. By the time she had managed this feat, Draco seemed to have moved past whatever had caused him to go cold on her; he wasn't avoiding her like the plague, anyway.

He was usually around in the morning before she left for class, and they had resumed their study sessions in the evening. That was why, early one Sunday morning in January, she didn't think much of it when she caught a flash of platinum blond hair as she made her way along the familiar path towards her daily shower. She felt her cheeks warm slightly as she entered the bathroom, though that had nothing to do with seeing Draco and everything with the recollection of the dream she had just risen from.

It had involved the blond Slytherin and nefarious acts Hermione was trying hard to forget. Unsure of whether she was feeling physically ill or turned on, she shed herself of her clothes and stepped shivering slightly into the shower cubicle. She turned the hot tap on as far as it would go and left the cold tap alone; she would burn the tingling feeling from underneath her skin.

She sighed as she stood in the spray, letting the water ease her into the morning. As the water relaxed her, she began to hum softly. Over the sound of her music and the splashing of the shower, Hermione did not hear the door open and then shut.

Draco had not planned this; he had simply been in the common room when Hermione woke and made her way across the landing to their bathroom. Before he had realised what he was doing, his legs had carried him up the stairs and retraced her steps. His brain finally caught up as he pushed the door open, but even then he could not convince himself to stop.

Her humming filled the room like the steam from the hot water, and the dim lights caused his shadow to loom ahead of him. He could see the faint silhouette of her body and stood for a second, his back against the door, admiring the way her curves moved in time to her voice.

He stepped further into the room, his shadow moving across the shower curtain. Hermione stopped humming and gasped loudly.

"Who's there?" She called.

Draco didn't reply, but closed the distance between him and the shower. He grasped the shower curtain as Hermione repeated herself and drew it open.

The next few seconds seemed to happen in slow motion, much to Draco's delight. Hermione screamed, her expression a picture of terror. She clutched at herself, trying to cover up and move towards the back of the shower at the same time. Her eyes were wide, her chest heaving, as her spine hit the cold tiles and she tried to make herself as small as possible.

"Malfoy!" She finally managed to choke out. "What are you doing?" Her voice was high as she stared into his face, trying to make sense of this turn of events.

"Granger," he purred and took a step back. He tugged at the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Hermione gulped as his abs rippled with the movement. Before she could reply, Draco had shimmied out of his pyjama pants and was standing as naked as the day he was born in front of her.

Hermione opened her mouth to repeat her question, but in that moment Malfoy joined her in the shower cubicle. She pushed herself further against the wall, curling into the corner.

"Relax," he drawled. He stood under the spray, allowing the water to run over his skin. Hermione couldn't help but watch as the droplets made their way from his chiselled chest, over his abdomen and down towards his groin. Her cheeks flooded with heat as her gaze landed on his erection, standing to full attention.

Words failed her as Draco looked over to her and followed her line of sight. A smirk broke across his face as his voice forced her to look back up at him.

"Let's not pretend this isn't something you've fantasised about, Granger." He took a small step towards her, his arms up with palms facing out to let her know she shouldn't fear him.

"I-I don't understand," she shuddered.

"Please," Draco scoffed, taking another step forward; Hermione was now in danger of being poked by a very intimate part of his anatomy. "I know you've been thinking about this since you caught me in the shower."

His arms lifted from his sides slowly, his hands finding her hips and whispering across her sensitive skin. She shivered, though she wasn't sure if it was from the cold, or his touch.

"I think you need your head checked," Hermione breathed, yet her tone was not as convincing as she would have liked. His finger tips dug more firmly into her sides, effectively holding her just in front of him.

"Look, Granger," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "If you honestly don't want this, I'll step out now, and never pull this again. But, if you have thought about this scenario, even once, and would like to find out just how good we could be together, I'd like the chance to prove your daydreams correct."

Hermione was vividly aware of the feel of him, even though the only contact he had made was his hands on her hips. Heat radiated off him, pressing into her as if he had leaned against her front. Her brain was still reeling from his intrusion, but her body seemed to be over it and was rebelling against her common sense. The tingling was back, not only under her skin, but on top of it too, radiating from where Draco was squeezing her flesh.

"Granger?" His voice had adopted a gravelly quality as his gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips, which had parted slightly to allow for more oxygen to pass into her lungs. "I'm going to kiss you now, unless you tell me to stop."

Please don't tell me to stop, he thought as he lowered his head towards hers. She remained frozen as he hovered just millimetres from her plump lips. He waited, though it was difficult to hold off being this close to her. He hoped his gasp wasn't too loud as she leaned forward and claimed his lips with her own.

She whimpered against him, her arms slowly snaking away from her chest and groin area to hang limply by her side. Draco slid his hands around her back and pulled her flush against him, his hard cock sandwiched between their fronts. They moaned simultaneously, still connected at the mouth. Draco took advantage of this, and slid his tongue effortlessly into Hermione's mouth; she matched his movements with her own as her hands came up to grip his biceps.

She had not yet accepted that this was really happening; it was easier to believe that she hadn't woken up yet, and this was just an extension of her dream. With the restraints of reality and the annoying warnings it brought with it, Hermione was free to enjoy what Draco was currently doing with his tongue, and his hands.

His right hand was moving down her front now, working its way across her belly, to the patch of curls nestled between her thighs. He drew soft circles on her mound, edging closer and closer towards the top of her slit. She moaned loudly into his mouth and he pulled back with a chuckle. He bit his lip as their eyes met again and Hermione felt like she might need to do this on the floor, lest her legs give out from under her; his expression was sinful.

Keeping his gaze locked on hers, Draco continued his teasing between her thighs. His fingertips finally found the top of her opening, and her eyes fluttered closed. He applied more pressure and moved his index finger up and down, parting her lips gently. Hermione felt she might faint; her eyes rolled backwards, and she clutched at the slippery wall; it now felt like lava against her back. Leaning forward, Draco latched on to the skin connecting her neck and shoulder, his teeth nibbling at the heated flesh. Hermione mewled into his ear, her breath coming in short bursts.

"Please," she managed to whine. Too shocked at her plea to take full advantage of it, Draco found himself moving his hands back to her hips and removing his teeth from her shoulder. In one fluid movement, he knelt before and ran his tongue experimentally along the slit in her folds.

She moaned loudly and Draco grinned. Encouraged, he buried his tongue further, earning himself another low moan which reverberated around the space, mingling with the rush of the water. He lapped at her core as Hermione continued to emit the sexiest noises he had ever heard fall from the lips of a witch. As the sounds became more high pitched, she fisted her hands into his hair and tugged gently on the wet strands; he knew she was close. To help her along, he pressed two fingers inside her slowly, his mouth momentarily leaving her as he revelled in the way her walls fluttered around his digits. He moved them slowly, in and out, a contradiction to the pace of his tongue which was flicking over her clit as fast as he could.

Hermione whimpered above him, and his first name tore from her throat as she clenched down on to his fingers and shook around him. He continued his ministrations until she had slumped against the wall again, her chest heaving and her cheeks a delightful shade of magenta. He grinned as he stood, a feeling of pride welling up in his chest; should she hex him right here, he would die a happy man knowing he had been the one to make her feel like that.

"Merlin, Malfoy," she panted. She said nothing more, but she tilted her head back, leaning it against the wall of the shower to look him in the eye.

Draco took this as permission to continue, and wasted no time bringing his lips to hers. She hummed contentedly as his tongue swiped across her bottom lip, allowing him access to her mouth. Their tongues danced as their hands roved over wet skin; Draco's hands found Hermione's breasts and began to pay attention to both at once. Hermione's found Draco's silky length, and the witch wrapped a hand around it uncertainly. He groaned as she squeezed, his way of letting her know she was doing something right.

She began to pump him, enjoying the feel of his shaft; the paradox of soft and hard was almost mesmerising as she rolled her hand over the head and back down to the base in slow, controlled movements. Hermione pressed her chest further into his hands as he pinched both nipples with thumb and forefinger.

Draco knew he had to stop; he would climax into her hand and across her lower abdomen if he continued meeting her thrust for thrust. It just felt so damn good.

"Granger," he bit out, his hands dropping from her breasts. He wrapped one around her own as it continued its pumping, effectively ceasing the action. Hermione pouted and he almost laughed at the adorableness of it. "I don't want to finish like this." He quirked an eyebrow and the pout melted away to be replaced by a look of intrigued understanding.

He moved quickly, wrapping one arm around her waist and hooking the other under her left leg, effectively tugging her into him. Hermione barely had time to moan at the feel of the hard planes of his chest pressed against her very sensitive nipples, when he had guided the tip of his cock towards her entrance. Draco leaned forward and claimed her lips in a kiss as he pushed inside her.

Fireworks erupted behind her eyelids as the feeling overwhelmed Hermione. She looped her arms around Draco's neck and held on as he began to move, pushing in and out of her slowly. She moaned, slowly becoming accustomed to his size, and rolled her hips in time with his.

"Fuck," he hissed between his teeth.

"Faster," she replied.

Instead of answering, he shifted his position so that Hermione was braced against the wall, both of her legs now wrapped around his torso. He barely had time to marvel at the feeling of her strong legs clenching him to her, as she rocked forwards again which caused white light to burst behind his eye lids.

He grunted as he matched her movements, using the wall as a support to get a better angle. The sound of their skin slapping against each other echoed around the room, mingling with laboured breathing and low moans.

His hands clenched her arse cheeks, spreading them further apart as he lifted her higher against the tiles. Hermione emitted a long, low moan and her head dropped back, thudding against the hard wall. This new angle was hitting her right there and she could feel her walls start to flutter.

Draco felt them too and gritted his teeth against her involuntary encouragement to release his load. He had fantasised about this moment for too long, and he wasn't about to ruin it by ending it prematurely. He began to silently recall the ingredients for the Draught of the Living Dead potion as he continued to thrust into the witch.

"Oh gods," she gasped, her finger nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders. "Malfoy, I think I'm going to – "

She growled low in her throat, a seemingly endless sound that continued to ring around the space long after her hips had stopped rocking and her legs had stopped shaking around his middle. Sensing her satisfaction, he thrust forward for the last time, spilling himself inside her. He moaned her first name as he came down from the high, easing her back to the ground.

Once he was sure she could support her own weight, Draco stepped back, his hands still on her waist.

"So," he smirked down at her. Their chests were still rising and falling rapidly.

Hermione glanced up at him from beneath her eyelashes, unsure if she should mirror his smirk or bite her lip shyly. In the end, she opted for a mixture of both. "So," she repeated.

Unsure of what to say next, Draco instead lowered his head and captured Hermione's lips in a soft kiss. He teased her mouth with his own, keeping his tongue securely away from entering hers.

"The water's getting cold," she said as he pulled back once more.

He chuckled and nodded, reaching behind him to turn off the spray. He disappeared from the cubicle for just a moment and returned with two fluffy towels. Hermione thanked him and wrapped the warm material around her gratefully.

Silence hung between them once again.

"Should I - ?" Draco said at the same time Hermione began;

"What do you - ?"

They grinned at each other, and Hermione motioned for Draco to continue.

"I was going to ask, should I ask a house elf to bring up some breakfast? I have a feeling we need to talk before facing the rest of the school…" He trailed off as he watched her expression change, mistaking her awe for repulsion. "Or we could just…"

"No!" She said quickly, a smile lighting up her face. "No, breakfast here sounds wonderful."

"Excellent."

He exited the bathroom backwards, the patented Malfoy smirk replaced with a genuinely happy smile.