A Theatre of Sex

It had only started two months ago, when they had first arrived to Hogwart’s for their seventh and final year at the school.

Draco had never noticed her before, with her being a Mudblood, and a Gryffindor at that. But there was something different this time when she walked off the train. Her hair looked softer, more inviting. Her eyes shimmered more. And then there was the slight detail of how she had grown taller, and bigger (in the places that counted of course).

The blonde groaned, knowing his erection was raging under the thin blanket. He cursed the fact that they were both Prefects and that every single goddamn morning, he would see her in their joining bathroom. Him, just waking up and Her, always awake and sending glares.

Draco let out a frustrated sigh and tossed some more. He tried to concentrate on the stars that shone outside his window, but all that did was remind him of how Hermione’s eyes glowed whenever she would talk about a subject she was interested in.

He threw his covers aside.

Maybe some exercise will get rid of this damned thing. He thought, never believing he would actually want to get rid of—

“Stopthinkingaboutit!” he growled to himself as he stripped down to his skivvies. Not caring about towels, a bathrobe or even a swimsuit, Draco walked into the massive bathroom and dove into the already full tub of steaming water.