“I’ve been watching you.”


The smug words spoken in a low whisper beside his right ear startled him. Years of training prevented his surprise from being obvious, only taking a the space of two breaths for him to be calm and unreadable by any who might happen to be watching. This was one of the first tricks he had learned upon being sorted into Slytherin. Never let anyone know what you’re thinking. Hell, never let anyone know you could think had been his motto from the time he was seven and began to pay attention to things happening around him. His size had always helped project an aura of ineptitude, and Draco had been more than willing to play the part of outspoken, obnoxious prat, not a stretch at all for the blond wizard he‘d known since birth. All he and Vince had to do was nod occasionally and pretend as if strawberry tarts or chocolate cake was more interesting than anything else going on around them.


He was tall and fat, the one either ignored or dismissed. Vince was a bit less fortunate, lacking his natural height, and often becoming the focus of pranks or hexes from daring classmates that always received the brunt of retaliation once he and Draco heard about them. When Greg was fifteen, he’d hit a growth spurt, the weight he’d always found a beneficial façade suddenly distributing over a larger frame, becoming muscle, but, luckily, those who had known him as nothing more than Draco’s fat friend for years had still seen him the same way. Most of the time, Greg still saw himself as the same. Only a few people, even now, knew that he possessed a quiet intelligence, had scored in the higher percentage of his classmates on his tests and wasn’t a brainless slug.


“Do you know what I saw this morning?”


Unable to pretend that he could not hear the voice, now hot breath in his ear, he decided on a plan of action. He recognized the voice instantly, of course. He just had to figure out why she was currently standing behind him in the empty classroom and whispering bewildering things in his ear. Tightening his grip on his quill, he kept his hazel eyes on the text in front of him. Shrugging his broad shoulders, he spoke in his normal soft tones. “I’ve no idea nor do I particularly care.”


“Tsk, tsk. Such a rude young man,” she scolded before her teeth nipped at his ear lobe.


Greg inhaled sharply when she bit his ear, his eyes immediately looking towards the door of the classroom. It was closed and, knowing the intelligent witch behind him, locked tightly. “What did you see?”


“The door isn’t locked,” she said matter-of-factly, seeming to know where he was looking even as she was biting his ear. “Anyone could enter the room, Gregory. Does that excite you? You seem to enjoy the prospect of being caught. Or is it being watched that arouses you?”


“You shouldn’t be here,” he informed her brusquely, not liking the direction this odd conversation was going at all. “We should go to lunch.”


“I was watching you today. In the library.” When he stiffened in his chair, she laughed softly, her breath warm against his neck and ear. “That’s right, Mister Goyle. I saw what you were doing. Such a bad boy, doing that in the library of all places. Why, such an action could definitely warrant removal from the school. Perhaps I should make an appointment with the Headmistress to discuss your departure from this academic institution.”


“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hermione,” he stammered slightly, his cheeks turning red as he imagined a confrontation with that old bat McGonagall. Dumbledore might have understood, possibly given him a bite of candy and then sent him on his way. Dumbledore was dead, though, a casualty of the War. McGonagall would not find it amusing that he had been in the library during his free period that morning wanking while watching the librarian. The stacks had been empty or he’d have never dared do such a thing, but now this annoyingly smug witch was threatening to report what she had witnessed. His earlier good mood was dissipating quickly. He hated being threatened, coerced, or doing something against his will. The only course to follow was denial so she would be unable to control him.


“You disappoint me, Gregory. Blatantly lying and trying to deny what I saw. I watched you, silly boy.”


She moved a hand along the back of his neck, fingers playing with the light brown hair that barely brushed against his collar. It was obvious from her tone that she was enjoying herself. She was entirely too smug and seemed to delight in his attempts to refute her allegations. Bossy damn thing, probably got wet making him squirm and stammer. Before he could clear his throat and remind her they should be in the Great Hall eating lunch, she brushed her lips against his neck. That simple action halted his speech completely. Again, hazel eyes flew to the door that he now knew was not locked. Bloody hell, what was the cunning Gryffindor up to now?


“Did you enjoy stroking yourself where anyone could see? I think it excited you; the thrill of possibly being caught. Do you know that your face turns red and sweat forms here,” soft fingers traced his forehead and down the edge of his face along his hairline, “and here when you’re aroused? I was so startled when I realized what you were doing that I had to watch. Wanking in the library, your hand moving up and down the length of your large cock, your eyes watching the librarian. Do you fancy her or something? Isn’t she a bit prudish for you, Gregory?”


“She’s not a prude,” he defended without thinking. Bugger it all. She’d caught him.


“So you do fancy her!” Hermione’s voice was triumphant at his unwitting admission. “Tell me, Gregory. What do you suppose would happen if I told the Headmistress what I saw this morning?”


“I have no idea,” he said in a low voice, annoyed with himself for letting her best him. She was too smart for him to keep up, something that was quite frustrating. Draco was right brilliant and Greg had spent most of his life keeping up with his best friend, but Hermione thought faster than Draco, weaving words like a web meant to entangle her unsuspecting prey. Why was she doing this? “Do you think this is funny?”


“I’m feeling many emotions at the moment, but humor is not one of them,” she confessed as she lowered her head to lick his neck, her long brown hair brushing against his face. Her voice was sharp as she demanded, “What would McGonagall do if she found out you were spending your free period perving on the librarian and wanking beneath the table?”


“Most likely, she’d make me leave the school,” he decided.


“Do you want to leave the school, Gregory?”


“Of course not!” He finally turned his head then, raising his eyes from the desk to look into amber eyes that were far too close. His head pulled back to keep from bumping her, her eyes widening slightly when he focused his attention on her, and he watched her slowly lick her lip. Suddenly she wasn’t so brave and smug, a fact that he noted and stored away for future analysis at a later date. Studying her, he finally asked, “What do you want, Hermione?”


A calculating look entered her eyes, one he had often seen when she was working on a potion or trying to help her silly friends. Only, this time, the look was focused on him, a fact that caused him to straighten his shoulders even more and hold his head a bit higher. She really was very pretty. Long brown hair that was unmanageable and wild, a bit like her. Pretty brown eyes with flecks of gold. A nice figure with round hips and long legs. Her breasts were great for her frame, small but full. She wasn’t stunningly beautiful but he rather liked her quiet natural beauty. Vince had gotten a bit of a crush on her during their sixth year after she’d helped him with a difficult transfiguration, and that was when Greg had first noticed her as anything more than Potter’s friend, the prissy know-it-all who wanted everyone to know how smart she was to cover up her own insecurities. Oh, he knew all about insecurities. Draco’s, Vince’s, Pansy’s, his own.


He didn’t talk much so he was often designated the listener amongst his friends. Zabini wasn’t a big talker, either, but he wasn’t very approachable and Draco had always fancied the raven-haired boy too much to become friends. Couldn’t show weakness, couldn’t let Daddy know his perfect Malfoy heir was wanking to thoughts of his handsome silent classmate, so Greg was the one who became the confidant for most of his house. The majority of them didn’t think he was smart enough to be listening or paying attention, but he did, understanding them far more and knowing exactly how they would react to most things.


With that knowledge, he was able to study his classmates from other houses, though they lacked the sheer necessity to keep their true personalities locked away for fear of their parents like those in Slytherin. Hermione was smart, without a doubt, even the Purebloods that loathed her due to her blood reluctantly admitting she had a keen mind and was a brilliant thinker. She had her own insecurities, though, something he had noticed after Vince became smitten. Vince’s interest in her passed rather quickly, his friend never having the best attention span, but Greg’s interest had just been piqued, continuing long after Vince had moved on to Hannah the Hufflepuff. And now she was standing behind him, had just been nibbling his ear and licking his neck, and was looking at him with that crafty look in her eyes and what could only be described as a mischievous smile on her lips.


“I want you.”


Greg coughed when he heard her blunt statement. His cheeks turned even more red than they had been when she’d first confronted him about wanking in the library. He must have misunderstood what she said, he decided as his eyes quickly looked towards the classroom door that could open at any time. Trying not to stammer as he looked back at her, he said, “I, uh, that is to say, me?”


“Let me be more specific, Gregory. I found it arousing to watch you do what you were doing in the library. I want you naked and begging me for release.” She gave him a look he’d seen her use on Weasley and Potter when they were failing to understand her point, causing him to shift in his chair and try not to gape so openly at the pretty brunette currently saying such unexpected things. “I want to fuck you.”


“And if I agree to this,” he spoke slowly, his eyes darting between her and the door to the empty classroom, trying to decide if she was actually serious or not. His cock, however, was deciding for him, stirring in his trousers as she gave him a sensual look and said she wanted to fuck him. Now he was playing it safe, confirming what he got out of this besides her, which really was more than enough. She was waiting, looking at him bravely though he could see a hint of vulnerability in her eyes that she tried to conceal. She was tapping her fingers against the top of his desk, watching him with that attentive focus she gave everything in her life, and seemed to be uncertain of his answer. He may not be the smartest man around but he was not stupid enough to turn down such a proposition regardless of whether she was blackmailing him or not. “If I say yes to this absurd idea, you’ll forget what you saw in the library this morning?”


“I doubt I ever forget, Gregory. It was highly erotic watching you wank so openly, knowing anyone could come into the library and catch you or that you might notice me watching you so, no, I won’t say I’ll ever forget,” she declared with a twist of her lips, seeming to know what her straightforward comments were doing to his cock, which was now even harder and pressing against the linen of his trousers seeking release. “However, if you agree, I will not alert the Headmistress to your depraved act this morning.”


“You realize this is blackmail,” he informed her quietly. “I could report you for coercing me into agreeing to let you have me.”


“Doing so would implicate yourself, silly boy. Besides, blackmail is such an ugly term. I prefer to think of it as an exchange. A mutually beneficial exchange, I might add. I promise I’ll be gentle,” she added with a wicked smile, her fingers tugging on his thick brown hair.


“Why me? Why this? I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be noble and courageous. Why would you force someone to…”


“Become my sex slave?” she concluded in a prim voice. “As I’ve said previously, I have been watching you, Gregory. You’re a rather attractive man when you don’t slouch forward. Tall and muscular, broad shouldered and your hands. God, your hands are divine. Besides, I have never been one for silly games. I want to fuck you, saw an opportunity, and have every intention of enjoying your body. Now quit wasting time and answer me. Do I need to make an appointment with McGonagall?”


“Do I really have any choice?“


“There is always a choice, Greg.”


“Fine, I agree,” he said softly. He couldn’t lie to himself and say he didn’t want this, didn’t want her, so why bother? Discussing it had merely taken time out of the lunch period and given them less time for whatever wicked scheme her crafty mind had thought up.


“Good.” She straightened then, any hint of vulnerability or insecurity gone as she focused those stunning eyes on him. “I believe that you deserve to be punished for your earlier actions. Stand up and bend over your desk.”


“Excuse me?” He was unable to keep himself from stuttering as he stared at her. She couldn’t possibly mean to…bloody hell, she did. Standing up, he looked down at her, finding her calm defiance arousing. He was over a head taller than her and, while he may not be overweight in the same way as Vince, he was definitely strong and brawny. It would be little effort to overpower her, take her wand, and then obliviate the memory of the library incident from her if he were so inclined. But where would the fun be in that? Running his tongue along his lower lip, he noticed her eyes follow the path as her pale cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. Realizing that he was not at all as powerless as he originally believed, he arched a thick brow. His voice was a low rumble as he clarified, “You want me to bend over my desk?”


“Really, Gregory, must you repeat everything I say?” she muttered crossly, glaring at him as he dared to smile slightly. “We only have a short time before lunch is over so quit talking and bend over! I want to spank you.”


“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled softly before turning to face the desk. Putting his hands on the top, he waited for her instructions. Unable to believe he was willingly bending over his desk waiting for Hermione to spank him, he couldn’t resist smiling at the sheer absurdity of the situation. The smile faded when her hands moved over his back, his cock twitching when his robe was pushed up and her warm hands moved beneath his shirt to touch his lower back.


“You have such a great back, Greg,” she told him as she traced a design on the small of his back. His robe was suddenly pushed up even more, folder to hang over the top of his head, and he inhaled sharply when he heard ripping material. “That’s better.”


“What are you doing?”


“If you continue to ask asinine questions, I will be forced to use a silencio,” she said sharply, her hand suddenly hitting his arse. His shirt was ripped open and pushed down around his elbows. Her tongue ran along his shoulder blade and down his back; her teeth nibbling the sensitive skin above his arse. “Did you know that you have three freckles right here?”


He felt her finger brush against his right side, above the waist of his trousers. “No, I didn’t.”


“You also have more here and here.” Her tongue licked the spots indicated. Suddenly, she slapped his arse and pushed against his back. “Lean forward and rest your elbows on the desk. I want you bent over so I can reach you, Gregory. You’re too bloody tall for me to enjoy like this.”


“Sorry,” he mumbled as he leaned over, flinching slightly as he recalled a group of Ravenclaw girls whispering about him during sixth year, calling him tall, fat and stupid.


“Greg, don’t apologize for being a large man. I find it very arousing that you’re so big. Tall and strong yet so gentle,” she said quietly, her hand moving over his back until the tension began to ease. “I must confess that I find you quite handsome. I wouldn’t have been watching you if I didn’t like what I saw.”


Looking at her from beneath lowered lashes, he saw her watching him from over his shoulder. He shyly told her, “You’re so beautiful.”


Her face turned red at his sincere compliment, a small smile crossing her lips before she looked away from him. Speaking briskly, she told him, “Stop trying to distract me from your punishment, Goyle.”


“Fine. Punish me, little girl,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders before looking at the door cautiously.


She unfastened his trousers, his body tensing as she pushed them from his hips until they were around his knees. Squeezing the cheeks of his arse, she suddenly slapped him. He bit his lip to keep from gasping as she spanked him. It didn’t hurt, the cotton of his shorts preventing her from hitting his skin, but the idea that he was bent over his desk being spanked by Hermione was enough to cause him to moan, especially considering that the door was unlocked and anyone could come in and catch them. When he felt his shorts sliding down, he whimpered as his cock was finally free. Warm fingers wrapped around his length, stroking him lazily as her palm hit his bare cheek.


When he thrust forward into her hand, unable to stop his moan, she laughed softly, the sound only adding to his arousal. “This excites you, doesn’t it? You like being spanked by me, like the fact that we could be caught at any time. God, you’re so bloody hard.”


She released his cock, her fingernails scratching his lower stomach and up his chest before she was twisting his nipple. Her hand kept spanking him, hitting him harder than he’d expected. His arse was warm from her attention, his lips swollen from where he was biting them. When he felt her lips on his shoulder, he lowered his head, his breathing ragged. She was kissing his tattoo, her hand squeezing his cheeks and her fingers moving between them, teasing his arse.


“I love this,” she whispered against his skin, licking the ink that was a permanent reminder of his friendship with Vince and Draco.


It was an old design Draco had found in a book when they were children, snakes entwined together in a triangle of support and strength. It was them, the blond had declared proudly, pointing to each of the three snakes. When Vince had asked what was in the middle of them, Draco had given them a superior look and announced that it was obviously whatever they loved and valued since the three of them were keeping it safe. In the years since, they had figured out what was in the circle, knew what they were protecting, who they loved. Together, they had stayed as strong as the serpents in the design, this tattoo a reminder for each of them that their friendship, their trust and loyalty had kept them alive during the War, had kept what they cherished safe, and each of them had proudly been marked with a symbol of their bond after Voldemort’s defeat. It was one of his proudest and happiest moments, actually. Going with Draco and Vince to the shop in Knockturn Alley, gritting his teeth as the ink permanently marked his skin.


A sharp slap to his arse pulled him from his thoughts about his friends. Cursing himself, he wondered how he could have drifted into memories when she was pressing against his barely dressed body. He offered no protest when she pulled him from his leaning position, pushing him back into his chair. His eyes swept over her as he landed in the chair, noticing her flushed face and her robes hanging open. “Constringo,” she said with a wave of her wand and he felt his hands suddenly pulled tight against the arms of his chair.


“Is this necessary?” he asked with more sharpness than intended. Being bound was not high on his list of pleasurable activities.


“Yes, it is,” she replied with an impish smile, her eyes moving to look at the erection standing firmly from the nest of brown curls. With another wave of her wand, his shirt was gone, leaving him with his trousers and shorts bunched around his knees, his robe scratchy against his saliva slick back. The seat of his chair rubbed against his spanked arse, his large body sprawled open for her viewing enjoyment. “Goodness, Greg. You’re so aroused.”


He moaned when she touched him, her hand stroking him again as her eyes moved hungrily over him. God, if she kept looking at him like that, touching him like that, he wasn’t going to last long. She leaned forward at the same time he did, their heads bumping, her fingernails scratching his cock as she jerked back. Flushing, he looked at the floor, only looking up when he felt fingers beneath his chin, rubbing against his unshaven jaw before she raised his head. Her lips moved against his, tentative at first but growing deeper as he responded. When she pulled back, he watched her reach beneath her skirt and slide a skimpy pair of red lace knickers down.


“Don’t have enough time to do this right,” she muttered as she removed her knickers. “Planned to tease you more but you had to keep being nosy and resistant. Damn fool man, can’t just let a girl seduce you when she’s got the urge, can you? Now we’ve only got a short time and I have to have you inside me.”


“You teased me enough, wench,” he pointed out, his arse still stinging from being spanked. When she straddled him, he bucked up, trying to bury himself in her tight warmth. Hermione unbuttoned her shirt, letting him see that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “You’ve been like that all day?”


“No. I removed it this morning after some wicked wizard decided to wank in the library,” she explained with an accusing glare as she rubbed her wet pussy over his length. “I had to go to the loo after you left, came from fucking my fingers but I desperately wanted it to be you inside me. Been waiting for lunch all damn day, you teasing git.”


“If I recall correctly, you started it at dinner last night.” He watched her squeeze her breasts, felt her wet juices against his cock, but she continued to tease him. Finally, he growled, “Stop playing and fuck me, Hermione!”


“Maybe I should just leave you like this,” she mused playfully, her hand stroking his cock as she deliberately rubbed the head against her wet cunt. “Would serve you right for invading my space and having the sheer audacity to wank right there where any student could wander in looking for a text.”


“I wouldn’t have done that if I’d not been confident I wouldn’t get caught,” he grumbled before smirking. “Besides, it got your attention, didn’t it?”


“Evil prat,” she accused before slowly sliding down on his cock. He watched her face as she stretched around his width, loving the way she looked when he was inside her.


“Untie me and say that again,” he challenged huskily, hazel eyes flashing with desire and daring. He looked towards the door of his classroom before looking into her eyes again. Arching his hips, he thrust his length into her, causing her to hold his shoulders as her head fell back.


“Stop trying to distract me,” she warned him as she began to move up and down, grinding against his cock. Her legs were on either side of his, between the arms of his chair, and she was riding him hard and fast.


He leaned forward, his tongue snaking out to lick her nipple, one of her hands gripping his thick hair and urging him closer. She was so wet, dripping from her cunt, his cock glistening with her juices every time she raised up. Finally, she released the spell on his hands, freeing him before tossing her wand back on his desk. Gripping her arse, he began to control her movements. Raising and lowering her to meet his thrusting hips, she was making the cutest noises as they fucked. Moaning and whimpering, short gasps of breath as he caressed her breasts and squeezed her arse.


When he stood, she cried out, “Ow. Fuck, that hurt!” as her leg hit the side of his chair.


“Sorry, love,” he apologized before stumbling to his desk. Her legs wrapped around his waist, his free arm knocking his lesson plans and other materials off the top as he pushed her back. Crawling onto his desk, he was thankful that it was sturdy, though he had actually reinforced it to hold their combined weight several years ago after they’d broken it during an unexpected shagging session shortly after they’d become sexually involved. He knew lunch would be over soon and his class would be arriving so he wasted little time with playing.


“Hurry, Greg,” she urged as she met his thrusts. She was scratching his back, their bodies sweaty and the scent of sex thick around them. His large hand moved between them, finding her clit and twisting. Licking and sucking her breasts, she was moaning wantonly, squeezing his cock and rolling her hips slightly. He didn’t last long, spilling into her with a low grunt of her name, his hands gripping her hips as he buried himself inside her and came. She followed him soon after, clenching around him and crying out his name softly.


He kept entering her, making shallow thrusts until he was completely spent, her hands continuing to stroke his sweaty skin as she kissed his chest and neck. Pulling out of her, he knelt on the floor, dragging her to the edge of his desk. Giving her what he hoped was a reasonably sexy look considering he felt like taking her to their room, snuggling against her and taking a nice nap, he said, “I want to taste you, Hermione.”


“Greg, we just, I mean,” she blushed and nibbled on her lower lip. “We really don’t have much time so perhaps we should get cleaned up?”


“You know I like tasting us,” he reminded her, knowing she still got a bit hesitant about him doing this to her even after five years. She always enjoyed it but seemed to think he didn’t, which never made any sense to him since he was always offering to lick her. She didn’t enjoy having him in her mouth much because he was wide and her jaw would start hurting, but she still sucked his cock some times because she knew he enjoyed it. He never asked, happy with their sex life as it was, especially when she got into a daring mood and did something impulsive or surprised him, but she would do it because she loved him. Yet she always hesitated when he asked to do this to her.


He was still a bit shy about sex, his first time occurring with Millie after too much Firewhiskey one night, and it had been far from memorable as they’d both fumbled and he’d come as soon as he’d been halfway inside her, and Hermione was only his second lover. They’d started dating after they both found themselves back at Hogwarts a couple of years after leaving and the end of the War. It had taken time for them to get comfortable having sex, neither vastly experienced or confident in such matters, but the years had made them both more secure as had their feelings for each other. That didn’t stop him from occasionally stammering when he wanted to ask for something specific or stop her from blushing when he wanted to taste her. She could suggest the naughtiest things to experiment with that she read in her books but she turned pink when he wanted to lick her cunt. Yet another reason he loved her more than he’d ever thought possible. Without giving her time to refuse, he gripped her arse and moved her to the very edge of the desk. Leaning forward, he ran his tongue along her folds, tasting their combined release.


“Greg, oh God…you should stop. Your class will be here before long and oh yes,” she hissed softly, pressing against his face as he lapped at her cunt.


Using his left hand, he spread her open, his tongue moving inside her wet cunt, licking and stroking. Her legs tightened around his head, hanging over his shoulders as he began to fuck her with his tongue. She was so wet, sticky with their release, her chestnut curls damp against his forehead. It wasn’t long before she was moaning, riding his tongue and fingers, her hands squeezing her breasts. When his lips enveloped her clit and he began to suck, his tongue lashing at the sensitive bundle of nerves, she exploded with a keen of pleasure. He kept thrusting two fingers into her, lapping at her release, only stopping when her hands pulled his hair.


“Bastard,” she cursed him affectionately, leaning down and kissing him deeply before shakily getting to her feet. She waved her wand, casting a quick scourgify on both of them before smoothing her skirt down and fastening her shirt. “Yes, well, Gregory, I do hope this teaches you a lesson. Wanking in the library is very naughty as is teasing the librarian.”


“I’m not sure, Hermione. Perhaps a few more lessons are required. You see, from my observations, the librarian enjoyed the teasing quite a bit,” he drawled as he stood up, picking up the remains of his shirt off the floor and tossing it in the rubbish bin. He didn’t feel like bothering to repair it, knowing the robe would conceal his half-clothed state from his afternoon classes. Finding his robe, he slid it on and fastened it, feeling her eyes on him. Looking up, he grinned. “What?”


“You can’t teach your classes with nothing on beneath your robe!” She frowned as he merely laughed. “What? It’s very improper, Greg.”


“So says the woman who wasn’t wearing her brassiere this morning,” he pointed out, deliberately looking at the red lace on the floor, “and isn’t wearing her knickers now. I’ll have my trousers and shorts on, love. I don’t think that’s improper.”


“Is too,” she argued. “Give me the shirt and I’ll repair it. Lazy oaf, it only takes a moment.”


“Stubborn wench,” he muttered. “Fine, repair it. I really don’t see what the problem is, though.”


“That’s because you still refuse to believe that you’re anything more than Malfoy’s lackey when it comes to your looks, you prat. I’m not the only one who finds you handsome and I feel much better knowing that no one else may catch a glimpse of bare skin. So shut up and put on your shirt before I hex you!”


“You know, if you’d wanted a shag, you didn’t have to threaten me,” he told her smugly as he removed his robe and put his shirt back on.


“Hmph,” she snorted, rolling her eyes. “If you’d not decided to torment me by wanking this morning when you knew I’d be busy with my monthly reports for the library, I wouldn’t have been forced to resort to such Slytherin tactics.”


“I see. It’s all my fault.”


“Of course,” she said with a smile. “Now quit looking so tempting. I’ve got a box of new arrivals that need processed and shelved by this afternoon and you have a class of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors who are eager to learn so there shall be no more impromptu shagging, you wicked man.”


“You do realize something, Hermione,” he spoke quietly, pinning her against the desk as their eyes met.


“What?”


“It’s now my turn to spank you,” he purred before kissing her soundly. When he pulled back, he winked before casting a quick spell to reorganize his desk top.


“If you think I’m going to just let you spank me, Gregory Goyle, you’re crazy!” She slapped his shoulder and nodded her head to emphasize her lack of interest in being the recipient of a spanking despite her enjoyment of giving him one.


“We’ll see.” He smiled mischievously before tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’ll see you at dinner, love.”


“Have a good afternoon of classes, darling,” she said before brushing a brief kiss against his lips. “I’ll try to sneak you some fruit later since we missed lunch.”


Greg sat back in his chair, hazel eyes following the brunette on her way to the door. A pleased smile crossed his face when she turned and mouthed ‘I love you’ before blowing him an exaggerated kiss. Running a hand over his face after she left, he tried to prepare himself for his next class. This wasn’t easy considering all he could think about was what a lucky bastard he was and how he’d get his wife back for her teasing blackmail.


The End