Draco lounged alone by the lake, toying idly with his wand. Totally and wholly bored. He watched with interest through the afternoon light to see Hermione (Goody-goody) Granger, Ron (rRd-neck, red everything actually) Weasley, and Harry (The boy who wont frickin' Die!) Potboy.
"So much for in' peace n quiet," he muttered, closing his eyes as Hermione shoed the boys away. Suddenly he sat up straight and opened them wide.
Hermione was de-robing!

Draco stared as Hermione slipped behind a tree, dropped her outer robe and uniform until she was left in only a one-piece pale blue bathing suit that accentuated her very considerable curves. She shook her bushy hair out and, with a quick check that no-one was watching, stepped deftly into the water.

Draco watched her dive in and started to laugh. "Of all the chicks at school!" he thought, chuckling, "Who'd've thought Hermoine Granger would have a body like that!
He watched her swim for a few minutes, then settled back.

A few minutes later...

"Hi Draco," the husky voice whispered in his ear, he sat up quickly, looking around.
Hermione was standing by the edge of the water, wand in hand, dripping wet.
"What do you want," he snapped, roving his eyes over her body lustily. Surprisingly, she didnt blush or get angry, but gave him a slow smile.
"What I want, Draco," she said, trailing her wand through her hair so it went smooth and straight down her back, "Is what every girl wants when she's bored with her image." She tapped her bathing suit twice and it transformed from a baby-blue kids suit, into a black string bikini.
"Nice," Draco noted, leaning back on his elbows to enjoy the view.
"You think," she asked rouguishly, slowly turning to give him a full view, she had a small dragon, magically tattoed onto her back, that stretched its wings and roared silently.
"A tatto?" Draco asked, his eyes still roving, "Do Weasel and Pot-boy know?"
"Why would I waste my body on them," Hermione asked, gliding over to recline beside him. She ran one long fingernail down her thigh, which Draco covered with his hand. Hermione smiled, brushing strands of hair from Draco's face.
"You have no idea," she sighed, "How sick of them I am getting, "The friend of the Boy who Lived, The super smart book-worm to the Boy who Lived, the frickin' girlfriend of the Boy who Lived." I want a life for 's sake"
She shook her head disgustedly, "As soon as the whingeing bitch carks it, I'm allowed to live."
"Potter?" Draco questioned, straying his hand higher, Hermione shrugged, "Does it matter?"
Considering how close he was to getting laid, Draco decided to keep his mouth shut, "I guess not," he answered, sliding his hand up to run over her breasts.
Hermione gave a wicked laugh and easily pinned him on the warm sand, settling herself on his hips.
"Good." was all she said, leaning down to take his lips with hers, kissing him hungrily, passionately and aggressively as he ran his eager hands over, and under her bikini...

"!" Draco sat bolt upright in bed, running a hand through his mussed silver-blonde hair, and staring around his private room wildly. "," he repeated, "What a dream..."
He looked down at his naked chest, lean six-pack gleaming slightly with sweat in the moonlight. "Uh" he sighed, flopping restlessly back onto his pillow.

Dark brown curls swept softly across his chest, and a bare arm snaked across his body.
"Dreaming, love?" Hermione murmured, sliding over him to kiss his neck.
"Then I shall tire you..."

Draco was alone when he woke again. He shook his head groggily and peered around his room, half expecting to see Hermione standing before him, waiting.
"It was a dream," he muttered to himself, "Just a dream."
Then he noticed the black bikini top strewn on the floor, along with the rest of his robes. "Then again, maybe not." A smile touched his pale lips as he remembered he and Hermione's frantic tumble the night before. Bodies. Lips. Groans. Climax. He raked his fingers through his hair and grinned, sliding out from under his sheets to head for the shower.

Later...

In POtions, Draco watched Hermione work beside him, meticulously copying down Snape's notes. She felt his eyes on him and glanced up, to see his smirk. Levelly she held his gaze. There was something in her look which made him blush and drop his gaze, suddenly doubting whether last night had been real. He returned to his notes, but not before noticing that Potter and Weasley were both glaring at him, he returned the glare and went to pick up his quill. It had dropped onto the bench beside Hermione, just resting on her thigh. Draco reaced down to take it and ran a hand slowly up her silken skin. Hermione didnt flinch, and through her hair, Draco thought he could see a faint smile, hovering above her lips.