What is Love?

Hermione walked to the bathroom. She looked towards the other door, and noticed that there was no light coming out from underneath it. She walked over to the sink. She slowly turned on the taps of water and cupped her hands. She watched as the water filled her cupped hands, then splashed the water on her face. She dried her face, and gave the sigh that was waiting to come out. It was then she looked up into the mirror.

She had avoided the mirror all night. She didn't know why she didn't allow herself the luxury of the simple task of looking in a mirror. But she refused to look in the mirror everytime she knew that she would have sex with Ron. She had no clue why.

No she did.
She was disgusted with herself. She was using Ron for sex. Using the body to relieve some of the sexual tension that refused to come out of her. But he wasn't good enough. He never was. Sure he was intentive, and gentle. But it didn't do anything for her.

It never did.

She looked at herself good in the mirror. Her hair was still a deep brown colour. And still as unruly as ever, a bush. She looked down at her pert nose, and her full red lips. The skin that she was so used too was peaches and cream, with freckles brushed lightly across her nose. Her eyes traveled lower, and came to her breasts. They were a good size, a little to big for Ron's hands, which he loved. But they weren't big by any standards. She was fine with that. Her body was lean, and held that little bit of baby fat. But her tummy lead to wide hips, child bearing hips as Molly likes to point out to her everytime she sees her.

Her legs were long and shapely, the best part of her body she thought. But she was still on the short side of things. But she stood proudly at 5”5. Nobody seemed to underestimate her size, cause of the powerful temper that she could have.

She then brought herself to stare at her eyes. The window to the soul. Her eyes glowed with their honey colour, but she was shamed. Disgusted. She lied every single day with these eyes. She wasn't a liar, but she did lie about her feelings, and that in every sense made her a liar. And she hated it with a passion.

She turned her body from the mirror, and leaned against the counter. What was she going to do? She loved Ron. Didn't she? They were meant for each other. Meant to be with each other, like Harry and Ginny were meant for each other. Wasn't that how it was suppose to be? She didn't know anymore. She loved Ron, she knew that. But in whats sense, she didn't know. Was it romantically, or friendship? Or even brotherly?

She shuddered at the last thought. Brotherly? No it definitely wasn't brotherly. That was out of the question. She shrugged her shoulders, and walked over to the shower. She twisted the dial, and watched as the water came pouring out of the nossle over head.

Once in the shower, she stood there letting the water pour over face and down her body. Washing away the remeans of a passionless night of sex. She thought about how Ron left when he was done, saying that he had to be back in his room tonight. She hoped he was cheating on her. She wanted out of the passionless pairing.

How could she stay with him, when she didn't even know that she loved him? She didn't want to hurt him. But they were going to have to break up sooner or later.

She ran a hand down the front of her body, coming to where legs came together. She let a finger explore the folds of her sex, and slowly slipped a finger in. She let her head fall back and gave a quiet moan. Why was this always better then the actually sex?

She started to move her finger in the rhythmic way a cock would move inside her. She let her thumb start to play with the now swollen clit. She lightly brushed her thumb over it, barely a whisper of a touch. Her breathes started to come in short, ragged breathes.

Gods this was always so much better then the actually sex.

She added another finger, and went a little faster. She then pinched her clit, and gave a small scream. She felt the juices of her sex come running down her hand, and legs. She gave a small smile of satisfaction. IT was always better then the sex.

She let the water slide down her body, washing the remains of her orgasm. She then washed her body, and hair. Letting the faint smell of orchids hang in the air. She turned off the water, and stepped out of the shower. She didn't bother with a towel. She never did. She may seem a little like a prude, and a shy one at that. But in the safety and comfort of her room, she always walked around in the nude (most of the time only in her briefs and bra). She was comfortable knowing that no one could come in and find out her little secret.

Today she was wrong.

~*~*~*~*

Draco wasn't asleep as the witch in the bathroom thought he was. No, he was wide awake. Why was he awake you ask. Cause he had felt the orgasm that the head girl had just experience.

So he laid awake, feeling the emotions that went through the girls mind. It was royally pissing him off. Why did she have to do it tonight? Why couldn't she just do it in her room, where it wouldn't have been that intense? God he hated her. He hated her for her orgasm, and hated her for making him so hard, that he had to wank himself off, while she was doing the same only a few minutes earlier.

He got up and walked over to where his door connected to the bathroom. He put a ear to the door, listening to what she was doing. He heard the tap turn on briefly, before turning off again. Good, she's brushing her teeth. He left his appearance in the same manner in went to bed in. Just his boxers. He wasn't going to change for any girl (well except his mother. Deathly terrified of her).

He opened the door and walked in. He paused. Good god! She was naked. How could she be naked? Wasn't a towel suppose to go around ones body after a bath/shower? He saw her eyes go to him, and take him in. She did even bother to cover up.

“Like what you see Malfoy?” Her voice broke through his thoughts.

He looked up at her. His eyes filled with the lust that he thought that he could never feel. “Your naked!”

She giggled. “I know.”

He shook himself out of his stupor. He made his eyes look at her face. But oh boy it was hard not to look anywhere else. He looked at her face, and felt the emotions that were coming out of her. She was embrassed. He smirked at that. So despite that air that she was putting around herself, she was embrassed, and turned on. God, this woman was going to be the death of him by the end of the year. With her fickle emotions all over the place.

“Well glad to know that you are. Would be weird if you thought that you weren't at all naked.” He paused and gave her another once over. He smirked again. “Not bad I must say. Though nobody would know you have that body underneath there. Well Weasley would.”

She snorted.

“Was that a snort I heard? Very unlady like Granger.” He watched her face turn slightly pink.

“Well he doesn't necessarily know what...” She stopped. “Oh why am I telling you this. It's none of your business!” She turned around, showing him her bare cladded bottom.

Malfoy gave a mental groan. She was doing it on purpose. And it was working. he felt her satisfaction of having the last word. He moved forward, pushing against the her door. Closing it so that she was in between him and the door.

~*~*~*~


Hermione was so embrassed. Why didn't she just grab a towel, and wrap it around herself? what was wrong with her? She normally would have done it. But this time she didn't. She stood perfectly bare, and let Malfoy look at her. She was so embrassed.

Now to top off things, she was standing with her back to him, and between the door. How was she possibly going to get out of this mess.

Ron was going to get so mad at her when he found out. No excuse was going to get her out of the mess. But maybe she should let it happen. Maybe he will break up with her, and then she will be out of the romantic love that was fooling them both.

But she was still nervous. She felt his hand brush her hair aside, and a finger trace down her neck. She shivered at the light touch. Who wouldn't? But his touch didn't repulse her, unlike Ron's. Why didn't it? It should be like that. Ron's was suppose to excite her like this, not Malfoy's.

“Your thinking to hard.” His breath whispered into her ear. Tickling the area with his soft husky voice. “You shouldn't think this hard.”

"I can think all I want Malfoy.” She shuddered with pleasure as his had traveled her back to the dip that was so sensitive.

“Sure you could.” He dropped his voice lower. “But when I touch you, you aren't allowed to think.”

“Well maybe your not as good as other people thought.”

Hermione felt herself being turned and pushed against the back of the door. Then his body being pressed against her, she felt herself become more aroused. She wasn't suppose to be this way with him. She looked up into his stormy grey eyes. Looking at the lust the reflected but through them.

“Hit a nerve?” She smirked up at him.

“No.” He smirked and lower his head so that she could feel his breath on her lips. “I think that I am very experienced when it comes to pleasuring a woman. Unlike your Weaslbee.”

“How do you know if he can please or not?”

She watched as he laughed. “I know that doesn't know.” He dropped his voice again. ”I can feel your unsatisfaction. Every single time he fucks you, I feel the need that he isn't giving you. I feel the doubt of the love you feel for him.”

“Malfoy you couldn't possibly understand feelings.”

“I feel everytime you finger yourself, and when you come you feel the satisfying need had been fulfilled.”

Her eyes opened in shock. How could he know that? Nobody could possible know that. She felt her cheeks start to tint pink. “So what am I feeling now?”

She watched as he backed off of her, automatically missing the feeling of his skin against hers. She watched as he walked to the door, anger filling her being. What was wrong with her. She knew he wanted her. So why didn't he take her? Wasn't she good enough?!?

“Right now you felt, in order, regret of missing my delectable body. Anger for me leaving you, while may I add, perfectly naked. Yes I feel this need for you. But while you are with Weasle, I won't even think of doing anything sexual with you.” He turned around, and was about to open the door, but she saw him pause. “So while you are with him, I won't do anything.”

She watched him walk into his room. Once he was in his room, and the door closed behind him, she let out a fusterated scream.


Draco smiled to himself. It couldn't have worked out any perfectly then it did. While he now regretted saying the last part. But he wouldn't let it bug him. No he wouldn't.

So he crawled back into his bed, smirked when he heard her bedroom door slam. They were both in for a very long night. For him it was about a girl with peaches and cream skin. With skin as soft and silky as silk.

Yes he was in for a long night.