Watching Draco Malfoy

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Written December 2003
She was going to kill Ginny Weasley.

No, killing was too easy for the devious redheaded witch that had gotten Hermione into this horrid situation. Perhaps a spot of torture and then a slow death, Hermione decided with a somewhat evil smile. True, it was really her fault for agreeing to this ridiculous scheme, but it had been Ginny's idea in the first place so the redhead would suffer. Hermione Granger still wasn't exactly sure how she had ended up hiding out in Draco Malfoy's room wearing Harry's invisibility cloak with the extent purpose of discovering *what* the snobby Slytherin wore underneath his robes.

After dinner, she had accepted Ginny's invitation to join some of the girls by the lake. Her female best friend had declared that she needed some bonding time, not giving Hermione a chance to refuse. Reluctantly, the brunette witch had joined the girls, soon growing bored with the conversation that seemed to center around boys, the latest fashions, boys, dates, parties, and boys. She had been reminded why she preferred reading a good book to chatting with her friends. It wasn't that Hermione had anything against the typical girly topics of conversation, she just wasn't that interested in what color robe was in for spring or which boy kissed the best or whatever silly topic the girls wanted to spend their time discussing. Whenever she was around Ron and Harry, at least the conversation was usually about Quidditch so they didn't expect her to listen attentively. While the girls had been talking, she had started to read a book she had brought with her.

She had been pulled from her reading when she heard Ginny say, "Hermione will do it, won't you, Mione?"

Hermione had raised her head to find all the girls looking at her expectantly. She had caught Ginny's eyes, seeing the innocent smile on her friend's face and had said, "Of course I will."

She should have known better. An innocent smile on a Weasley face should have raised her suspicions immediately. She started to get worried when Ginny smiled and said, "Great! You can look tonight and tell us tomorrow. You're the best."

"You're so lucky, Hermione," Lavendar sighed, "I don't know what I'd do if I shared a room with him. He's too sexy."

"What?" Hermione frowned, trying to figure out what she had agreed to do without admitting that she hadn't been listening.

Ginny nodded, "Lavendar's right. He might be an arrogant bastard, but he's absolutely gorgeous. If I didn't have Harry, I'd definitely go after him."

"Malfoy? Are you talking about Malfoy?" Hermione laughed, "You're crazy! He's just Malfoy."

"Sexy and smart and gorgeous," Ginny grinned.

"Rude, conceited, annoying, smug, snobby," Hermione listed, wondering if her friends were, indeed, crazy. Thinking that Malfoy was sexy and gorgeous? It was true that he wasn't as obnoxious as he had once been, but he was still a prat. They had to work together since being made Head Boy and Head Girl this year, but they weren't exactly friendly. After Voldemort's defeat the previous summer, she had thought Malfoy might change in some way. As it was, he didn't seem in the slightest way affected by Voldemort's death. She had never learned which side he was on during the War, only knowing that he had never received the Dark Mark and no charges had been brought against him following Voldemort's death. She didn't think he was on their side, but he obviously hadn't gotten caught doing anything on the other side, either.

"I thought you two had a truce," Ginny mused, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she sweetly added, "that it why you agreed to help us discover the truth, right?"

"Just because we have a tentative truce does not mean that I have to like him," Hermione snapped, annoyed that the cunning redhead had gotten her to agree to who knew what for fear of getting caught ignoring her friends.

"Hermione, there are times I have to wonder if you're completely oblivious or just lying to yourself and everyone else," Ginny said cryptically before she leaned over and whispered, "you can borrow Harry's cloak tonight so you don't get caught spying."

"Spying?" Hermione felt her face pale as she finally asked, "What, exactly, did I agree to do, Ginny?"

"Why, to tell us if Malfoy wears boxers or briefs underneath his robes," Ginny smirked as she watched Hermione's eyes widen and her face turn nearly white.

And that was how Hermione Granger, Head Girl, student with the highest marks at school in the majority of her subjects, now found herself hiding in Malfoy's bedroom waiting for the arrogant prat to return to his room so she could successfully complete Ginny's challenge. She had spent most of her waiting time imagining all sorts of involved tortures for her friend, knowing full well that Ginny had deliberately set her up for this daring task, probably figured Hermione would refuse and confirm that she'd not been listening at all. Well, she was nothing if not determined so she knew that she'd wait as long as it took and go to breakfast in the morning with an answer to that silly question. She had tried to cheat by checking the dresser, but her search had turned up empty. The dresser had only held a few pairs of socks and a couple of shirts. The wardrobe was charmed and she didn't have a password.

She was pulled from her thoughts when she heard the door open. She listened as Malfoy called out, "Granger, do you want to review potions? Granger? Where the bloody hell is that girl?"

Hermione watched as Draco entered his room, shutting the door behind him. Great, there went her means of escape. Now she was stuck waiting until he went to sleep so she could sneak out. She watched him put a couple of books on his dresser, running his hand through the pale blond hair that brushed against his shoulders before turning to face the room. He frowned and his eyes narrowed as he looked around the room, making her wonder if she had moved something without realizing it. No, she hadn't touched anything except the dresser. She watched him slowly smile, his gray eyes darkening as he seemed to stare directly at her before he walked to his bed.

Draco removed his robe, tossing it on the ground beside his bed. He was wearing a pair of black trousers and a dark blue shirt that fit him very well. Hermione's eyes drifted from the back of his head, down his back, lingering on the tight arse that was molded by his pants, and down his long legs. He was no longer the short, pointy face little prat he had once been. No, even she could admit, albeit reluctantly, that Draco Malfoy was attractive. At least, he was until he opened his mouth and started insulting her, challenging her, or simply arguing with her. He was the same height as Harry, which she knew made him a little over six feet. If she hugged him, her cheek could rest on his shoulder. Wait, what was she thinking about hugging him for? Stop it, Granger, she scolded mentally. Ron was taller than both Draco and Harry, her cheek resting on his chest whenever she hugged her best friend. There, that made it better. She wasn't thinking about hugging Draco, she was just thinking about hugging in general.

She watched Draco unbutton his shirt, free to look at him in a way that she never had been before. He had nice hands, long fingers, and he concentrated completely on the task of removing his shirt. Soon, the material slid from his shoulders and he turned. Quidditch did a body good. That was the only coherent thought that came to Hermione's mind as her eyes raked over the vision of a shirtless Draco Malfoy. He was slender, but muscular, his arms and chest well developed. There was little hair on his body, just a scattering of blond hair on his lower abdomen that disappeared into the waist of his pants. She watched his hand move down his chest, his thumb brushing against a pale pink nipple before moving down his flat stomach. She gulped when she saw his hands begin to unfasten his pants. The room was too warm, she decided as she drew her bottom lip into her mouth and nibbled. Her eyes looked at his face, surprised to find that he was again seeming to stare right at her, his lips twisted into what had to be the sexiest smirk she had ever seen. She suddenly understood what was meant by the term walking sex, only Draco was standing, and, goodness, the look of desire and need in his eyes was practically sinful. She shifted positions, rubbing her legs together as she felt her panties beginning to get wet.

She licked her lips as her eyes moved back to his hands, cursing herself for wondering what they would feel like caressing her heated flesh. This is Malfoy, she kept telling herself, the arrogant prat that lives to make your life miserable. He is not sexy, he is not attractive, he so can't be making your body feel so alive just from watching him, but even Hermione was smart enough to know that she was lying to herself. He was sexy, he was gorgeous, and watching him was making her entire body feel like it was on fire. When the hell had he gotten so damn seductive? She watched him teasingly lower the zip of his trousers, wondering why he was taking so darn long. No wonder it took him forever to dress in the mornings, if he did everything this slowly, a very naughty image flashing in her mind of him doing other things very slowly to her and, stop it, she scolded herself again. If the evening continued this way, she was going to be checked in St. Mungo's by the morning for having so many voices in her head. Finally, the zip was down and he was about to remove his pants. She'd get the answer to the question and then just wait for him to go to sleep. Her eyes widened and her mouth drifted open as he slid the pants down his hips.

He was nude underneath. Oh my, she had never seen a naked man before, except for the peaks she had taken at a few muggle magazines her Mum kept hidden in her bottom dresser drawer. She knew what a penis looked like, had not been overly impressed by the photos she'd looked at, but Draco was different. Not only was he someone she had just realized she found exceptionally attractive, but he was bloody breathtaking! From her position, she had a pretty clear view of his now naked body. It was definitely a memorable view, she decided, her cheeks heating up as she realized that she was hiding in his room and ogling him like some randy perv. She shouldn't be looking, she thought, though her eyes continued their lazy perusal of his naked form. She watched Draco move onto his bed, leaning against a stack of pillows, his eyes blazing with a passion she had never seen before. His hand moved down his body and she suddenly realized that he wasn't preparing to go to sleep, like she had expected. He was going to wank.

Close your eyes, Hermione, a voice insisted, stop watching. Fortunately, the other voices quickly overrode that goody goody voice and reminded her that she'd never again have such an opportunity. She moved closer to the bed, thanking Harry for the use of his cloak, knowing that he'd have a fit if he knew why she was using it. She was watching Draco Malfoy wank. The wetness between her legs was increasing as she watched Draco begin to stroke himself. She wasn't an expert on penis size, but she knew enough to know that Draco was above average. He was longer than most the photos she'd seen and rather thick. She studied his penis, admiring the way it looked against the pale flesh of his hand, those long fingers wrapped around it as he squeezed. She could see liquid leaking from the head, noticing that it was nearly clear, a translucent white sort of. She watched Draco move his palm over the head, spreading the liquid over his penis. Her eyes went back to his face, loving the way he was biting his bottom lip and the way his eyes had turned a stormy gray as he began to speed up the strokes. She wondered what he was thinking about to get him so excited, so turned on. She rubbed her legs together again, fully aware that her nipples were hard and that she was soaking wet.

She watched Draco moved his free hand against his chest, surprised when he pinched his hard nipples, biting her lip to keep from moaning at his actions. Her own nipples ached for his touch, wondering what it would feel like to have him touch her in that way. His hand was moving much faster now, his penis seeming to twitch with each stroke. She listened to his ragged breathing as his hips began to thrust towards his hand, his free hand moving to grab the headboard behind him as he began to moan softly, the husky sound sending a fresh wave of arousal over her. He was gorgeous when he was wanking, Hermione honestly didn't know if she had ever seen anything more erotic in her entire life. He was vulnerable yet strong, passionate yet controlled, and he definitely seemed to know what he was doing judging by the look of sheer pleasure that was on his face. Again, his eyes seemed to stare almost directly into hers, his lips curving into a lusty smile as he whispered, "Gods, yes, Hermione," before he arched off the bed and began to come. Her eyes widened as she moved backwards quickly, knowing that he couldn't have seen her, which meant...he'd been thinking about her when he was wanking.

She watched Draco climax, the way his eyes drifted shut and the sound of her name whispered so sexily and the way his mouth opened slightly as he gave in to the pleasure, the way his body arched from the bed, sweat dripping from his flesh as liquid burst from his penis. She watched him bring his hand to his mouth, his pink tongue running along his fingers as his eyes again looked in her direction. He licked his own release from his hand, something that she should have found gross but instead found very arousing. He used his wand to clean himself and the sheets, moving beneath the covers and speaking the words to turn off the lights. She waited until she heard the even sound of his breathing before getting to her feet. She was barely able to walk, her legs shaky as she quietly opened the door and moved quickly outside. She closed it again and ran to her room, tossing Harry's clock to the floor as she hurriedly removed her clothes.

Falling to her bed, her hand immediately found its way between her legs. Without preamble, she thrust two fingers into her tightness, her eyes closing as she remembered in detail the vision of Draco touching himself. She barely touched her thumb to her clit before she exploded, crying out his name into her pillow as she fell back against her sheets. Hesitantly, she brought her hand to her mouth. She could count on one hand the number of times she had performed the art of self- pleasure, and never had the experience been as exciting as it had been tonight. She tentatively moved her tongue over her finger, deciding that it didn't taste nearly as bad as she had assumed. She couldn't really describe the taste, but it wasn't awful. Deciding that she had had enough experimenting of that sort for the evening, what with discovering her inner voyeur and masturbating like some wanton hussy, she wiped her hand on her sheet. She grabbed her wand, muttering the charm needed to clean her sheet and then closed her eyes. It was late and she was suddenly tired. The vision of Draco's lean and naked body instantly came to mind, a soft smile crossing her face as she drifted off to sleep.

Ginny Weasley looked up as Hermione Granger took the seat opposite her at the table in the Great Hall. She arched a brow when she saw the smug smile on the Head Girl's face, saying, "Someone looks rather wicked this morning."

"Great night sleep," Hermione said with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. Leaning forward, she whispered, "Oh, Gin, about your question."

"Mione, I was just teasing. You know I didn't really mean for you to find out," Ginny said somewhat guiltily.

Hermione laughed softly, catching her best friend's eyes as she smirked, "It's neither."