Ugly

A/N: Fifth chapter. W00t. Sorry this took a week or two. I'm just that slow at writing. I'm some what of a perfectionist, I go over my work a thousand times before I can write one sentence more.

Anyway, enjoy, this is my favorite chapter so far. AND MUWAH MUWAH MUWAH TOO ALL WHO REVIEW. SO NICE.

Oh, oh!! The song for this chapter is "Somewhere a clock is ticking" by Snow Patrol. I find it very sexual in a weird way. I think it's long enough to start from the beginning...
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It's Friday, the last period of the day – charms – and Draco sighs tiredly, dipping the metal point of his quill into the small pot of ink. He's jotting down notes with his favorite quill – a small dark peacock feather that was a gift from his mother - his dark charcoal sweater pushed up around his elbows.

Although quiet and controlled on the outside, his mind is a blur of thoughts and images flashing by in quick succession. Only yesterday, he'd been snogging Granger in a dark alcove of Hogwarts. For the fiftieth time, as if on never ending repeat, he runs the conversation over again in his mind. They'd spoken so few words, yet it had meant so much.

They had just reached the door of the Great Hall when Hermione stopped abruptly and pulled her hand from his. He had forgotten that he'd been holding it the whole time. Thankfully, they hadn't seen anyone else in the halls – everyone must have already been at dinner.

“I--”

“You--”

They stopped and looked at each other awkwardly, with a hint of amusement.

She sighed. “This is never going to work, you know.”

Something inside of him tensed. “You don't know that.” Did she not understand how much it had already cost him to be with her? His sanity, for one thing.

But he understood where she was coming from. How could he not? If his father caught wind of him and not just 'a' mudblood, but 'the' mudblood – he didn't even want to think about what would happen. He nodded towards the door. “You better go, before someone sees you.”

She'd smiled at him then, almost gently and moved through the door to join her friends.

Abruptly, Draco is snapped out of his daydreams when Pansy shrieks, albeit quietly for her.

“Ew, Draco, what the hell happened!” She's pointing disgustingly at his forearm where a half a dozen cuts are visible below his rolled up sleeves. He cringes at the tone of her voice. Honestly, they did not look that bad. Well, okay, maybe a few are infected.

He rapidly pulls his sleeves back down and turns to glare at her. “Nothing. I just got a little banged up at Quidditch practice.”

Pansy eyes him petulantly at his curt response, but it is apparently a good enough excuse because she turns in her seat to face the front once more. Ever cautious, Draco scans the classroom with his peripheral vision, wondering if anyone has noticed the exchange between them. His grey eyes flick to the right, behind Pansy's chair and are met with a pair of vivid hazel orbs. Blaise Zabini is staring at him.

He doesn't meet the other boys gaze, and instead turns his head to concentrate on Professor Flitwick at the front. Nevertheless, the small hairs on the back of his neck start to prickle with the distinct feeling of being watched.

Later, when class has been adjourned, Draco makes his way from the room, only to have the dark haired fellow Slytherin fall in to step beside him. He should have expected this. Though Draco has been acting rather anti-social lately, Blaise and he had once been rather close, in Slytherin standards. And though they are a play on contrasts - Draco's blond against Blaise' black – they are surprisingly similar, sharing many common interests. Quidditch, for one. Blaise is a talented player on the Slytherin team. Another; overbearing parents and the teachings of the Dark Lord.

As they walk down the hall, Draco notices a sixth year smiling flirtatiously at him – she must be the confident type. He doesn't even spare her a look, much less smirk, something he would have enjoyed doing before.

“So.. Draco,” Blaise starts, ruining the lovely absence of chatter. “How's it going lately? We haven't really been keeping up much, have we?”

Draco grunts noncommittally and watches a third year squeak and skitter out of his path, books clutched to her chest.

“How's your Mum doing?” Blaise tries again.

Draco has to stop a snort of laughter. “Great”

“And your Dad?”

“Grand.”

The dark haired wizard is looking rather frustrated by now and Draco rolls his eyes. Enough of this evasive questioning.

“Spit it out, Zabini, what do you want?”

Blaise looks around rather nervously before answering.“Well... I couldn't help over hearing Pansy earlier. You know, I don't remember you getting hurt at practice.” He glances briefly down at Draco's right arm.

They continue walking and the silence drags on between them, but Draco waits patiently. He knows Blaise isn't done yet and sure enough, seconds later, he's talking again. “Draco, if there's something wrong...”

“Shut it, Blaise. I'm fine,” he snaps. Being interrogated by the dark haired boy is one of the last items on the list of things Draco wants right now. Where did he get off anyway? Thinking he could ask him about his parents. Although, speaking of things he wanted right now... Draco's eyes catch a head of familiar brown hair bobbing down the hallway ahead of him, just as Blaise is saying something else.

Draco cuts him off mid sentence. “Look, I gotta go.” He nods his head in Grangers direction through the crowd. “Head duties.”

Surprisingly, Blaise looks slightly upset. “Yeah, talk to you later, I guess.”

He doesn't wait any longer and darts forward, weaving through the hallway of students to catch up with the head of bushy brown hair.

“Granger,” he calls, when he's within ear shot. Hermione, and the girl who has been walking with her, turn around, and oddly enough, it's Melinda Brokehart beside her again. “I need to talk to you for a moment. Head stuff.”

He doesn't miss the rather sly, enlightened look that Melinda is giving them.

On the other hand, Hermione is regarding him with a rather incredulous expression but she excuses herself quickly with a hasty 'see you later'. She follows him down a corridor, cutting away from the main crowd of students and then through the door of an empty classroom.

And before she can ask him what in Merlin's name he thinks he's doing, he's spun around and has her pressed firmly up against the wooden door they've just walked through.

Hermione inhales sharply and her nose is filled with a familiar, wonderful, lovely boy smell, and her head swims dangerously.

Draco still hasn't moved.

“Hi,” he says and smirks down at her.

“What are--” she starts, but is cut off as Draco presses his lips against hers.

With one kiss, it's like a fire has been ignited between them and she moans quietly, bringing her arms up to twine around his neck, pushing up against him the way a sunflower reaches for the sun. This time, she's the one who can't seem to get enough.

Yet it could be a tie because he's moaning into her mouth and she can feel his heart beating rapidly in sync with her own. He reaches down and grabs a hold of her thigh, hooking it up around his hip, so he can press himself harder against her core. She throws her head back against the wood and moans wantonly, the fire pooling rapidly between her thighs. Draco takes advantage of the access to her throat and neck and kisses and nips his way down, before sucking gently, leaving a small burgundy mark on her collarbone.

He's panting heavily as he leans back to inspect his work but groans loudly when Hermione grinds herself against his already hardening erection. He pushes back against her and leans down to nip her neck gently.

“Bloody hell, Granger,” he mutters huskily, and she looks up at him through dazed, hooded eyes.

They meet half way for the next kiss, and he moans when he feels her tongue against his own. Her small hands are moving up under his shirt again, scratching down his back as he grinds his aching hardness against her. He's been thinking about this all day. Wondering just how far she's willing to go.

Testing the waters, he brings a hand down and then trails it up her thighs, until it's under her pretty little Gryffindor skirt. He brushes his fingers against the soft mound of the 'v' between her legs, feeling the dampness that has soaked through her knickers. He licks his suddenly dry lips as she moans, pushing harder against his hand. If that isn't encouragement, Draco doesn't know what is.

He rubs her from the outside of her knickers a bit before she's panting and begging him to do more. What she's asking for, he highly doubts she knows herself. Smiling, he pushes her underwear to the side with his thumb, slowly circling her entrance with his index finger. She pushes against his hand again, unconsciously persuading him to enter her. So he obliges, slowly slipping his finger between her slick folds. She groans loudly, throwing her head back against the door again as he slowly pumps in and out of her. She's mumbling incoherently, yet he catches his name passing over her lips several times and grins. He leans forward and catches her lips for another kiss as he slides a second finger into her

Once he's added the second digit, curling them up inside of her to find her sweet spot, he realizes just how tight she is. He wonders briefly if she's had sex before, but if how tight her cunt is gripping his fingers is any indication, he's guessing not.

She's bucking against his hand, building to her release, her small hands clenched into tight fists against the door, but he's not done with her yet.

He rapidly pulls his fingers from her wet, throbbing depths and Hermione groans at the loss of contact. Yet seconds later he's dropped to his knees in front of her. In one swift movement he pulls her damp knickers down to her knees and pushes his face in between her thighs, inhaling the scent of her arousal. At the first touch of his tongue against her swollen sex, she inhales sharply, her hand coming to grasp his hair.

“Shhh, pet, trust me,” he whisper gently and leans forward to lick her slowly. He feels, more then sees, her relax.

He swirls his tongue around her clit for the first time and then sucks on it gently, causing her to jerk and whimper. But her hand is running lightly through his hair so he continues on, experimenting with her reactions, finding out what makes her gasp, moan, and sigh. This is undoubtedly his favorite part. He laves his tongue from the bottom of her wet, swollen lips to the top, paying special attention to the nub of nerves found there. He's eating her out, loving the taste of her, the smell, and even kneeling in front of her his cock is throbbing painfully in his trousers, jerking in response to her sighs of pleasure.

It is only several minutes before she's on the cusp of climax once again, and as her breathing becomes erratic, and her knees start to shake, he plunges his fingers back in to her, pumping quickly in and out. She's whispering his name over and over, and as he sucks on her clit for the last time, he feels her walls clamp around his fingers before they rapidly burst into spasm. She cries out as she climaxes and Draco continues to lick her gently as she rides it out. With a final sigh, her legs give out underneath her, and she slides slowly down the door to join Draco on the floor.

She looks at him with cloudy, satisfied eyes and smiles stupidly. “Bloody hell yourself, Malfoy.”

He can't help but return her smile and impulsively he leans forward on his hands and kisses her full on the mouth. She gives out a muffled sound of protest – probably something to do with the taste of herself on his lips – but moments later she's melted into him once again.

She's practically in his lap when she pulls back a bit to look at him quizzically. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with the blond git?”

It was meant to be light and teasing but Draco tenses against her and pulls back, sobering quickly.

The look in his eyes is unreadable.

"I don't know,” he says and runs a shaky hand through his hair, “I don't know who I am anymore. I'm nobody."

"Yes you are. You're Draco Malfoy," she says and smiles crookedly.

He looks down at her through his bangs and though they both know her statement is meaningless he can't help but crack a small smile himself, and somehow, someway, he feels a little better.

Later, when they're leaving the room, gathering a vestige of proper behavior around themselves, Hermione looks at him strangely.

“Did I hear you call me pet?”

He grins at her. “Maybe”

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End of Chapter 5

A/N: So, they aren't technically “out” as a couple, but how could they be? I would imagine lots of beatings. Anyway, the sexy part wasn't originally in the plan but I got all inspired last night – okay, horny - and had to write it out. And I think it actually progressed the story well. Cause I do want them going at it pretty soon. (most likely because I just like writing raunchy sex scenes when he just grabs her and takes her up against a wall) Oooooo, can't wait!

Review? Pleeease?? And I mean constructive here, if you have the time or inclination. Cause I really don't have much of an idea of the quality of my writing. I've never shared ANYTHING I've written with someone I know personally. Ever. Eep. Also, I'm just a big review whore.